Eventually August the 17th arrived, our last day of vacation.
Tomorrow
we will leave our country of origin, Gesico, to go back home to Rome.
We'll
be back in Sardinia next summer to visit our parents.
This
time I could not do more that one-tenth of the things that I promised
myself, but this is also a constant.
Let's
see: I still have in my pocket the compiled list of things to do
before you start the holidays.
Visit
the Nuraghe Cobumbus - done.
Visit
friend Celeste - done.
Dinner
with old schoolmates - skipped.
Visit
to the museum of Cagliari - done.
Visit
Aunt Nina... damn.
Once
again, also this year!
Same
story every time! I made a list of important things and then always
check it only the last day of vacation!
There
are only a few hours to dinner time, I still have time to say goodbye
to Aunt Nina and Uncle Lucius.
But
yeah, let's try!
I ask my son to accompany me to Aunt Nina, he is always happy to greet the family.
Aunt
Nina is the oldest representative of the family Schirru in Gesico, my
grandmother's sister Cenza, and if I can I always like to see her.
Step
to take my mother and all the three arrive at the aunt's house, at
the entrance of the village.
The
house was made for a big family, as in the past. The door hided the
large and massive interior courtyard with a beautiful well in the
center. The courtyard was paved with irregular stones and grass grows
between them. On the left side you can still see the loggias for the
cattle, a time they would feel the bleating of sheep and the noise of
the people who worked there. Nowadays, everything is changed,
abandoned, and sad and off. To the right of the house, there was a
row of ornamental orange trees. Once I was a child I had tasted one
of those bitterly fruits, I never forget it!
When we get are just six. My aunt is in the yard, sitting on a low chair, surrounded by relatives came to visit, and we welcome all guests to sit. Aunt Nina gives us an orange and a sweet, as is his habit.
Then
greetings were followed by endless chats on relatives, on births and
deaths and family tree.
Only
later Aunt Nina starts telling those things that I love so much,
small nursery rhymes, prayers and muttettus in the Sardinian language
campidanese.
What
a memory!
The
evening is beautiful, but her aunt look steadfastly towards the south
and at some point begins to speak loudly, to attract the attention of
everyone.
"Tomorrow
will be a bad day. I beg you, stay home. Avoid travel and bring the
cattle in the barn. "
"But
Auntie, you say, the weather did not say anything."
I'm
complaining, but she looks at me with a wry smile of one who knows a
lot and continues as if I did not exist.
"There
is no doubt, a big storm is approaching. I will pray to St. Barbara
because it takes away from home and because Santu Jaccu protects you
along the journey. "
It
was useless to argue. If her aunt had made up her mind one thing, it
had to be that.
The
popular beliefs of Sardinia attributed to the saints with the task of
protecting people from natural events that could be dangerous or evil
eye.
A
few years before had told me how he cared and taught me the evil eye
"is brebus," the words to be spoken to protect or to treat
those who were struck by the evil eye.
Inside
the nursery rhyme there were often the names of some saints who were
supposed to act as pimps or intermediaries.
Well,
also to protect themselves from time the Saints had their importance,
Santa Barbara and San Giacomo in particular.
The
visit was over, it was seven and they were waiting at home for
dinner.
I
was happy to be able to greet her aunt and we could go back with the
certainty that, if there had been a storm, someone would protect us.
We
had dinner together in the yard at my parents' house. The evening was
beautiful, the air warm and good wine helped in the conversation.
Then,
at some point, my mother asked her to help pick up everything before
you leave. We cleared the table quickly and I was about to say hello
when my mother asked to me to help bring into the room even the
tables, chairs and vases that were in the verandah.
"What
need is there to bring in all, it's a beautiful night...” said I
quite astonished.
His
answer left me stunned. "Alexander, you have not yet figured out
that if an old man tells you something you have to listen? If aunt
said that tomorrow there will be a bad storm, it is necessary to
believe and prepare. "
I
did not want to discuss, I helped to bring in the pots and then we
said goodbye. We would meet again next summer.
That
night I reminded an old nursery rhyme that I had heard so many times
when I was a child. My grandmother always recited it when a storm was
approaching. He said he needed to protect his loved ones from
dangerous thunderstorms and lightning. The nursery rhyme was only
part of a complex ritual that she had explained to me.
"These
rituals are part of our family from centuries. Not everyone knows
them and even if they know them because they cannot recite only those
belonging to the family of sorcerers have the power to do that. "
I
always listened to my grandmother, even when she talked of such
unusual things.
I
closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
It
was a few minutes past midnight when a thud began to get louder and
louder. A distant thunder approaching ... the wind had got up
suddenly and wood blinds began to creak, as if to warn of an
approaching danger. I got up and looked out the window in disbelief.
The
sky to the south was brightly lit by lightning. The dark clouds
loomed on the moonlit sky. One time, as he had told his aunt,
approached...
Santa
Brabara e Santu Jaccu,
bosu pottaisi is crai de Lampu
bosu pottaisi is crai de celu
no toccheisi a fillu allenu
ni in domu ni in sattu,
santa Brabara e Santu Jaccu.1
bosu pottaisi is crai de Lampu
bosu pottaisi is crai de celu
no toccheisi a fillu allenu
ni in domu ni in sattu,
santa Brabara e Santu Jaccu.1
The
words I remembered suddenly, clearly, felt the rumble in my head.
Without realizing it I walked to the fireplace in the kitchen. I
stretched out his right hand and grabbed a handful of ashes.
I
went back to the window, I put my hand up to my mouth and began
blowing toward the storm without stopping to mentally repeat the
chorus.
Santa
Brabara e Santu Jaccu,
bosu pottaisi is crai de Lampu
bosu pottaisi is crai de celu
no toccheisi a fillu allenu
ni in domu ni in sattu,
santa Brabara e Santu Jaccu.
bosu pottaisi is crai de Lampu
bosu pottaisi is crai de celu
no toccheisi a fillu allenu
ni in domu ni in sattu,
santa Brabara e Santu Jaccu.
Then
his lips began to move involuntarily. I had finished the ashes like a
dream and saw my arms stand up to the sky.
I
recited the spell, first slowly, then faster and louder and louder...
Santa Brabara e Santu Jaccu,
bosu pottaisi is crai de Lampu
bosu pottaisi is crai de celu
no toccheisi a fillu allenu
ni in domu ni in sattu,
santa Brabara e Santu Jaccu.
Seemed to me that time does not pass anymore. Then suddenly I realized that the wind changed direction. The storm moved away to the west, accompanied by thunder and lightning.
I
went to bed in silence, it seemed that no one had realized nothing.
My
wife was asleep turned on its left side and the silence had returned
to reign in the room.
The
next morning I got up late, I was tired. Barely remembered having
dreamed.
A
strange dream. I had heard the roar of the approaching storm, but the
sun in the window said that the day would be nice. Aunt Nina had the
wrong weather, just as well. We had a long trip and do not drive in
the rain I never liked!
I
went down to the kitchen. My wife had just put the coffee on the
stove and the smell had just begun to spread in the air.
"Did
you sleep well?" He asked casually.
I
answered yes, even though I was really tired, as if I had not gone to
bed at all.
"You
know, last night I thought I saw you standing in front of the window.
It must have been a dream ... "
Only
at that moment I realized that all sweaty, as if I had made some kind
of effort. Suddenly I remembered everything clearly. Impossible, I
thought! I reached to stroke the window of the bedroom, I laid hands
on the sill and looked long at the sky, searching for answers.
It
can not be, I dreamed ... I thought, and went back into the kitchen.
I
sat down at my usual place and began to sip the coffee.
"Love,
you've got his hands dirty with ashes? Go wash ... "
Said
my wife, with a firm tone ...
The
translation is about this: Santa Barbara and St. James /
you have the keys of lightning / you have the keys of heaven /
not affected other people's children / they do at home in the countryside / St. Barbara and St. James.
you have the keys of lightning / you have the keys of heaven /
not affected other people's children / they do at home in the countryside / St. Barbara and St. James.
Alessandro Giovanni Paolo Rugolo
Original language: Italian
Translated by my novel: La partenza.
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