My Grandparents
Today is a big day for me. We are heading into Ribera the place where my familia are from. Gianni is our tour guide taking us in there this afternoon. He has things to show us he said. I don’t know what it is and I must admit I’m a little anxious about what we will see, if we meet anyone, all of it. It’s a once in a lifetime experience, one that I will be able to share with my own children and siblings. Even my own mother didn’t get here. It’s an honor to have this chance. Sleep last night was scarce. Lots of thoughts. Andiamo! Let’s go.
We are enjoying a beautiful landscape. The temperature is perfect about 75 degrees. It’s different than I imagined. Green, rocky, valleys dotted with sorrel yellow flowers, groves of oranges, olives, prickly pear cactus, some grape vines and new wheat fields. Quite beautiful. Windmills generating power on the hilltops because all of Italy is void of nuclear power they rely on wind and solar power. We are arriving in the middle of the “festival of the almonds” where the trees are blooming with light pink and white flowers buds.
Somewhere in transit to the USA the sir name took the “O” off and added an “A” to become Triola. This was my mother’s maiden name. Gianni our local tour guide we hired was a history major. Before we arrived (this has been in the plans for about a year) he did lots of research into the family name. Then he came here walked the streets, studied the documents we provided him and came up with a plan. WOW! We found the cemetery, the street both of my grandparents were born on, the church they were baptized at and surmised that because the region is known for oranges, almonds, wheat, ricotta, olive oil that they were farmers. Because he said the areas resources changed especially ample supplies of water and temperatures changed as well that jobs in the fields and poverty took over forcing them to leave. It was not uncommon either that both last names were the same before they married. Perhaps cousins in the same family. Young and looking for a better life, they left. The trek to a coastal town from here had to be hard. It’s an Appalachian topography with hills and valleys and loose lime stone on the hills. Farming rocky soil and trekking around to reach port had to be difficult. Their trek had to be funded somehow from family with a promise to probably send some back once they settled in a new country. A new thought that never entered my mind, maybe they left with the thought of returning but because life happens, babies come, situations change, they couldn’t afford to come back. Hmmmm..
Elizabeth NJ was intentional Gianni said. This blew my mind. The place of my birth in NJ had a large collection of Sicilians who also migrated to make a better life. It was intentional. How brilliant. Go where your people are. Makes sense right. And it was a stones throw from Ellis Island when immigrants landed.
Continued in next blog.
