As the tour wound down a couple of young men from Sicily had been following us and speaking to the professor in Italian. They offered to take our group picture and assumed I was with the tour. When the tour group boarded their bus the boys were surprised to see I stayed behind. I bought them both a drink and found out they were hitchhiking their way to Tuscany and eventually Croatia. I told them where I was headed and although it was in the opposite direction I would take them to the main road where they might have a better chance of finding a ride since there were no visitors left at the site.
These two travelers looked like they would never be seen together. The younger one, Giovanni, was dressed sort of preppy in green shorts with big white stars that looked like swimming trunks. He wore a white polo shirt he had from his last job where he sold gelato. His hair was styled recently though a bit messy from his travels. Giovanni was looking for work since the economic crisis and he was not needed at the gelateria. In the winters he does metalwork like building gates but the work is too hot for the summer. Giovanni thought I should quit my job and teach English in Italy. I told him about my family and he said they should come too, why not?
His buddy, Antonio, looked like he had just left the Burning Man festival. His hair was jet black, very wavy and hadn't been trimmed in quite awhile. His goatie was about five inches long and came to a point. Antonio is the philosopher and communist, he too thought I should quit my job but work for food and shelter rather than "the system". He had pointed out to me that he had spilled some gelato on his dirty yellow t-shirt. Best of all was his brown baggy pants. Almost dress-like they came to about mid-calf and had big slits up the sides exposing his shorts. He said he was given these by a friend he met in India.
We continued to chat with the owner of the bar near the site and we were having a really good chat. My Italian was coming out much better than it ever had. Antonio was fluent in English so he helped by correcting my Italian when it was unintelligible and translated the Italian that was beyond me. Giovanni tried to speak English in between cigarettes. When it was time to leave I said was changing my plans and I would drive them further north. I ended up going to Isernia, the third largest city in Molise and about 60 miles away from my original plan. It was well worth the detour.
When we arrived in Isernia we headed straight to the historical center of town. We visited an old church, where about a dozen old women were chanting the Hail Mary in italian of course and praying the rosary. One half of the church would recite the first stanza and the other half then finished the prayer. They were scattered about the church in no particular order.
As we entered the church the younger of my two companions paused and became deeply reverent. He made the sign of the cross kissed his hand and walked quietly toward the back of the church bowing politely to the women sitting in the pews. The communist, didn't make the sign of the cross but was appropriately solemn. The church was beautifully ornate, much more than you would expect in a small city in the middle of the country but this is Italy so I shouldn't have been surprised. In the back of the church they read some writing on the wall and told me the name of the Saint buried under the church. A glass floor gave a view of the tomb. Giovanni pointed to the metalwork in front of one of the statues nearby and after some examination he gave a nod as though he approved and looked at me, pointed and said, "is good".
We left the church and continued down into the heart of the historic district. We read the plaques and they both helped me with some of the translation. It was late afternoon so people were beginning to emerge from the midday rest from the heat. One older man we passed stopped us and began speaking much too fast for me to understand. Antonio described to him the purpose of our visit and soon they were having a friendly argument about Antonio's lifestyle and clothing. A woman came out of a nearby restaurant and joined in taking the side of the old man. Antonio and Giovanni gave me run down on the conversation that I was occasionally involved in like when the woman told me she was sure she knew me from somewhere or when the old man accused the other two of taking advantage of Americans.
I asked about the food at the restaurant and the woman explained that she would only open at 8pm if she felt like it. It had been a hot day and she was tired. We left and the old man walked with us for a short while, shook our hands and then went on his way. It was to me a great experience to take part in the ordinary lives of these people and such a casual conversation among strangers. Best of all for me was to hear people with differing views respectfully disagreeing, laughing and coming to an understanding that didn't leave the impression of polar opposites or any hint of animosity despite a lively conversation.
After a dinner of several types of fresh seafood including raw shrimp, octopus, tiny fish seasoned with algae (if I translated it correctly), pasta with truffles and mushrooms, pizza and beer it was time for me to head back to Ripabottoni. I asked them where they wanted to be dropped off. Earllier they said they sleep outside under the trees if they can't find anywhe else. They chose to sleep in a park nearby Antonio explaining that the police have no problem with this and it's better for Giovanni because sometimes he gets scared that something might happen. At least here they can yell and wake everyone up if they need to.
Before our goodbyes Giovanni pulled three hazelnuts out of his backpack. He had picked them earlier and the three were still attached to each other. "tre nociolli, come noi" " three nuts like us". I don't think he meant nuts as in three crazy people but three friends although they both seemed a little nuts to me. He insisted that we each eat one of the nuts and then we said good-bye.
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