Goccia a goccia nasce il fiume (Varia) (Italian Edition)

Adesso riuscivano anche a vedere il recinto intorno alla casa, una bassa staccionata di paletti quasi tutti completamente avvolti dai rampicanti del bosco. Due piccoli cespugli di bacche rosse, simili a ossute mani sanguinanti, segnavano l'ingresso al giardino. Se non fosse stato per i suoni nasali del clarinetto che uscivano dalle finestre, si sarebbe detto un rudere deserto. Angela e Markus continuavano con cautela ad avvicinarsi al portone della casa, ma si accorsero che Ughino stava dirigendosi verso il pozzo. Non si vedeva il fondo, ma sul fianco correva una lunga scala metallica agganciata a una pietra d'orlo.

Mi sembrava ci fosse qualcuno Markus, ma questo c'era anche l'altra volta? Ughino lo osservava carezzando le pietre lisce e levigate , senza staccare gli occhi pensierosi dal fondo. Si misero in fila indiana davanti alla porta, mentre il clarinetto stava eseguendo una lamentosa scala diminuita. Rumori di sedie e di oggetti spostati arrivarono ai ragazzi dal piano superiore insieme a pesanti passi su una scala di legno accompagnati da un sordo borbottio. Sull'uscio apparve la figura alta e allampanata di Draconis, vestito con una larga tunica bianca di lino e i capelli raccolti in una coda che gli pendeva sulle spalle.

Teneva in mano un lungo e stupendo clarinetto d'ebano come fosse una mazza e fra i piedi — infilati in due sandali di cuoio — stava dritto un gatto grigio dal pelo di velluto, che li osservava con aria infastidita. Gli occhi di Draconis erano nascosti dalle profonde fosse che li custodivano ma l'espressione che stava assumendo in volto era sufficiente a terrorizzare i tre ragazzi.

Mentre parlava, Draconis avanzava e i tre ragazzi indietreggiavano di conseguenza. Ci sono tanti sapienti in giro, chiedete a loro. E adesso andate via! Mi avete interrotto, ho molto da fare. Mentre saliva le scale, si sentiva borbottare: E pochi istanti dopo il clarinetto riprese a suonare. Se ne stava in disparte, continuando a fissare la porta chiusa senza parlare. Vedrai che riusciremo a trovare un'altra soluzione. Questo Draconis non mi sembra una persona che possa aiutarci.

Poi riprese a camminare dietro agli amici, con gli occhi bassi, mentre il cielo diventava rosso e gli animali notturni cominciavano pigramente a sbadigliare, svegliandosi. Persino l'udito abbassava la sua soglia e potevano essere percepiti rumori che di giorno rimanevano mestamente avvolti nel disatteso sottofondo acustico: Ma per Ughino quella non era una notte di quiete. Continuava a rigirarsi nel letto senza sosta, farfugliando parole nel sonno agitato, mentre gli tornavano sempre alla mente le immagini di una fredda scala arrugginita che scendeva verso il fondo di un pozzo.

Nelle orecchie gli risuonava costante un rumore metallico, forse un oggetto che batteva sui pioli della scala. La luce della luna illuminava tutto lo specchio della piccola finestra, a cui erano applicate delle grate metalliche. Un grosso barbagianni era ritto in piedi sulla soglia e ritmicamente colpiva con il becco la grata metallica. Il barbagianni aveva parlato!

La sua voce era simile a quella di un anziano brontolone colto da un improvviso disappunto. Ho un sacco di cose da fare stanotte e devo ancora cenare! Io non ho tempo da perdere. Il bambino lentamente si sedette sul bordo del letto. Doveva scendere per quella scala? Non ne era affatto entusiasta, ma il barbagianni era stato chiaro. Ma poi, doveva forse fidarsi di un uccello notturno che parlava come un vecchio borbottone? Ma forse era stato solo un sogno, vediamo. No, vicino a una grata c'era ancora una piuma grigia.

Lo avrebbero mai creduto? Per fortuna avrebbe potuto portare anche Markus e Angela, senza di loro sarebbe stato un vero problema. Helios in his chariot pulled by four winged horses. The woman walked with her back curved and head bent low, grazing the walls of the old buildings that bordered the narrow alley of the village of Sugano. Her unsettled steps were accentuated by the sound of her torn plastic slippers and covered feet that, despite the look of her clothes revealed great poverty, were meticulously cared for, as were the nails on her bony hands. As she walked, an inaudible whisper came from between her lips.

Every so often she lifted her head to find her way through the alleys, and then resumed her walk. Arriving at an open doorway along the road, she stopped right in front of it and waited, staring inside. The noises that came from the house were those typical of food preparations from a kitchen: You know he doesn't want this, right? What do you do, instead? When are you planning to stop? This is the last one! I don't want to see you around here any more! Then she continued on to the city gate and settled herself on a low stone wall. The wall bordered the road that looked on to a wooded area right below.

The woman kept holding the bottle that had been given to her, tight to her chest. Her head hurt, as if something was pressing on her temples. She knew that when she had this feeling, it was because they were coming, which was why she had gone to beg for the wine. They constantly tormented her, and for years had never left her in peace.

Every time she began to feel the atrocious pressure in her head, she had to endure them again. She could feel them. The foliage of the trees on the hillside below her slowly began to change shape. The branches extended and broke from underneath the foliage, transforming into large hands stretched towards the sky. At the same moment, the vegetation below her joined together, forming a dark, waving, slimy sea. The woman looked at the sight without interest and with resignation.

Suddenly a voice spoke from the street behind her, calling her attention. The one that had spoken was a small clown, which skipped playfully around the other two people: The clown continued to speak: Don't you recognize them? The masked female figure appeared to bring her hands close, and then bent in a loving pose. Meanwhile the clown sang: The woman removed the cork off the bottle. Immediately the two masked figures jumped, and the clown turned to them: The two bodies started to cover with green scales, and slowly settled to the earth rolling about, while the long hands of the trees behind the woman reached out and grabbed her by the waist.

She screamed and immediately lifted the bottle to her mouth, gulping down a huge mouthful of wine. At that moment, the nightmare disappeared and everything was back to the way it was before. Meanwhile a boy coming down the street on his bicycle witnessed her eager drinking. She gazed at the boy without answering. Don't you recognize me? Come on, I'll take you home. As she walked, her gaze remained fixed in front of her and she continued to repeat: They wanted me to believe Markus opened it, motioning the woman to enter. The woman turned to him and said: Were your parents serpents too?

His sideburns also appeared to extend down his face, because of a light, unusual hair growth that had started to appear on this face. In the morning he looked at himself in the mirror for a longtime, every time with the fear of waking up and not being able to recognize himself. He was not awaiting nor had asked for all these body changes. Because of them, he felt submersed in a fog of confusion and doubts.

He had been able to surround himself with things and actions that made him feel serene and hopeful. His physical appearance was one of them. His black curly hair falling on his white forehead, his red lips framed under a small straight nose and his prominent eyebrows framing a lively but intense look, created an image from the past, right out of a Caravaggio painting.

This look he felt comfortable with made him feel safe. As a result, these morning inspections in front of the mirror revealed a frowning forehead that revealed preoccupation and disappointment. He had been living with his parents in a small, isolated house on the Umbrian hills surrounding Orvieto since he was five, since — that is — his father Josh he had ruined his life in that crazy merry-go-round that is New York City. He had then bravely chosen to move, in agreement with his wife Mary. Both had been pondering that possibility for years and every detail had been taken care of with extreme care.

Josh wrote articles on Italian customs, traditions and culture for the American market, while Mary worked in photography. Markus was not enthusiastic about their choice, even if he was familiar with those places since he was very young, as he had been vacationing there in the summer every year. He realized he was going to lose all his friends to find himself in a completely new place, without anything familiar to refer to. The family would talk about it at length in the evening. In the end, he accepted the move, even if his decision was prompted more by his desire to make his parents happy, than to make himself happy.

When the world turns upside down, the only way to remain strong is to lean against recognizable stable pillars. His family, his room, his bicycle and his first true friends were pillars of strength to Ughino. Three years went by before he could give up the New York Yankees poster hanging in front of his bed, to make room for a poster of an Italian soccer team. He had learned to speak Italian perfectly and he attended the local middle school with notable success. Despite some initial difficulties, he was immediately cheerfully accepted by all his schoolmates and teachers. The small realities of both the province and the country luckily did not destroy human relationships like urban centers do, revolting anonymous machines that they are.

Markus then became friends with everybody, despite his initial distrust. Among all his friends though, there was one special friend, a girl: Unfortunately, destiny made this friendship hard for the boy, for Angela lived in Rome and only during the summer, and sometimes during some holidays, she would vacation with her parents where Markus lived and where her parents owned a small house inherited from an elderly aunt. Angela was a year younger than Markus and they had become friends before he left New York, since both families had chosen the same place to vacation at.

It was because of his great friendship with Angela that Markus learned to speak Italian quickly. For a couple of years, Markus and Angela had been enjoying more freedom with the permission of their parents. As a result, they would spend their days on the hills, biking along the wooded paths, looking for small animals and climbing trees, looking for hideouts. Angela was a lively, blond girl, always ready for any adventure Markus would suggest. She was slim and agile like a gazelle in the fields and a squirrel on the trees. He never thought about the difference of the sexes too much, nor was this bothering him in any way.

All this, up to that year when — in summer — Angela went back to the village again. Like Markus, she was growing and physically changing and Markus was aware of all these changes. The once-bold little girl had gotten taller, her hair was styled differently and had a different shine, and her clothes did no longer disguise the flat and dry figure of years past. Her look had also changed and become so piercing it went right through you like a dagger. Markus was thinking about this, while hesitating for quite a few minutes in front of the mirror… Suddenly he heard someone knocking at the bathroom door.

I will be back tonight. Your father is up in his den, writing. She would leave early in the morning with all her photo equipment and spend the whole day traveling through the hills and bordering villages. At night, she would come back with a good number of pictures, which, through the night, she would examine and make changes to. Hidden in his den, he would write all-day long and send his work to editors by e-mail. After breakfast, Markus went into the garden, making his way towards the back of the garage, where Josh had set up a basketball court for him, using one of the garage walls.

The boy would spend a lot of time bouncing the ball on the pavement, then throwing the ball into the basket. All this physical activity calmed him down. As he was slowly swirling around, dragging behind him the ball bouncing on the pavement, that morning he thought of his friend Ughino, with all the problems his image would conjure up.

So intent was his thought, that Markus stopped the ball with his hands and stood for a moment looking at the climbing roses that were decorating the garage door. Markus turned around and his face lit up. She threw it on the ground and they hugged happily, transported by the spontaneity of a gesture they were accustomed to since they were five. Markus though realized he had perhaps been too spontaneous. He pulled away immediately, blushing.

His face beamed with delight. Cheerful, playful and full of life. He was greeting everybody loudly But his mother has gotten worse. He told me himself and I actually saw it for myself. He said there is very little that could be done since she is mentally sick. They suddenly heard a loud noise of metal, stones and wheels coming from the access road to the village house.

The two got up and moved towards the lane that led to the main entrance. When they got to the corner of the garage, they had to move back to make room for a boy who was riding a strange three-wheel vehicle with great speed. Then he addressed both of them: I am very happy. Ughino started to get off the bike and then hesitated. Would you like some juice? He looked at Markus and said: I have to continue my deliveries I just wanted to say hello. He looked at Angela, trying to let her know. She understood immediately and said: I have to go help my parents get set up.

Then Ughino got off his bike, stopped pretending he was happy and hugged Markus. Then Markus pulled his bicycle out of the garage and pointing to the road said: He was ten years old, but because of the emotions and the grief that life had reserved for him, he could teach good judgment and maturity to his fifteen-year-old friends. The engineers of the municipality had tried various times to have the two legally evicted, as the dwelling was considered not desirable for health reasons, but every time, independent groups of people had dissuaded them and convinced them to defer action.

Paola, the mother, was still young, but she looked like an elderly woman.

Esilio by Ada Negri

She was afflicted by many ailments and when she was able to rustle up a little alms money, she would always go home with a bottle of wine in her hands. Paola was an orphan and she had never known her parents. She grew up in a convent and when she was twenty she had gone to work as an attendant at a summer camp for children on the Emilia Romagna coast, where she had met her first and last love.

Salvatore, a tourist traveling in that area, invited her to dinner and they stayed together until morning, when Paola had to go back to work. The following days she waited for him in vain on the beach where they had met. She looked for him in a futile search throughout the whole city, only to realize the only thing she knew about him was his first name. Salvatore had left her, much like her mother had done. At the end of the season, she returned to the village pregnant with Ughino, her mind totally empty.

As the baby was getting bigger, the mother was withering away. Her body slowly sagged like a bamboo whipped by the wind and only alcohol could make her bear the eternal grief of life. Ughino understood immediately, since he was very small, that he had to take care of himself, as well as his mother. So he would go to school and after school he would take care of the house, helping Paola as if she were a little girl. Despite his sad destiny, Ughino smiled all the time and he would play with his friends, who loved him a lot, any chance he got.

The boy did not want his friends to pity him because of his condition, so often he would tell innocent lies to mask his meager truth. Sometimes, he was invited to lunch by families of friends, and was served with wonderful dishes of Umbrian tradition. He would then thank the hostess by saying: Just the way my mom fixes it! Things were different with him. He spent a lot of time with him and thought of him as an older brother.

Once, when school let out, a couple of older boys arrogantly stopped Ughino. It was Giovanni Montaldi and Piero De Lisis, sons of two wealthy businesspeople from Orvieto, dressed from top to bottom in fashionable clothes.

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They did not have many friends at school, but their private alliance seemed to satisfy them and they did not feel they had to be friendly to other people. Always bold and arrogant, they had several times shown lack of courage in their actions. Therefore, they usually would bother the younger and the weaker kids. Ughino was one of them. One time, Giovanni and Piero started making fun of him because of his older shoes with holes, shoving him around as they spoke, while he was trying to resolve the situation with a smile.

Suddenly Piero kicked him and his backpack filled with his school notebooks fell in the sand. Then Ughino turned and saw the boy turning red, because an arm, behind him, was grabbing him by the neck. With a yank, Piero fell on the ground and immediately Markus was on top of him, beating him up, while a couple of friends were holding Giovanni back.

During the summer, Ughino helped Mario, the manager of the only food store in the village, with deliveries to clients. Since during the summer holidays the number of people increased because of the arrival of all the people who owned a country cottage, the need for deliveries increased, as the store was getting bigger and acquired more clients. So, Mario had given Ughino a bicycle he had modified for small deliveries: Little Ugo felt mighty proud when he was riding this unique vehicle and often he would come back from his deliveries full speed, doing acrobatics on two wheels.

But when he went home, he left his cheerfulness outside the door, like a coat hanging from the door. The boy would put his love and patience clothes on and cross the door bravely. His mother would usually sit by the window, crossing her legs, with her foot constantly moving up and down. Her gaze was lost in empty infinity and nearly always she did not even know her son had come back. Ughino thought his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world and he hoped every day that she would heal quickly. His continuous care and attention was not enough, he thought. Maybe he should take her to the hospital.

But how could he love her more? He loved her more than himself! Every day he tried to be more affectionate. His heart would break, for he could not see any improvement. He would cook for her, talk to her, he cared for her hands and feet, and he would tell her about what was happening in school, but she would rarely answer, and when she did, only in monosyllables. He would then go in the bathroom, turn on the faucet and cry his heart out, hitting his head with all his strength, crying rivers of steaming tears into the basin, clutching his heart because of the pain.

She is completely mad. I met her yesterday and took her home. He tried to change the topic: Do you want to go to the beach with us? Do you remember the last time, when she fled at night and we found her on the bridge? Who gets to the square first decides the punishment! Markus looked at him straight in the eyes and said: Let us through, I have to go to the store! Piero did not move. The left window of the car was lowered and a voice screamed from inside: Giovanni grabbed his bike and started pedaling towards the descent.

But he did not need to; he already knew it was a heavy person with white withered skin, with his head dripping with sweat and black sun glasses perennially resting on his forehead. Not because of you. Ughino got off his tricycle and said: He enjoyed watching the women in and out of the store, chatting, with bags filled with heads of lettuce and loaves of bread. Those images were engraved in his mind since he was small, even though they were not keepsakes from his own land.

He only remembered a lot of confusion and the icy cold of the huge supermarket in the city where he was born. The younger told the oldest: You see how nice and polite he is? Despite all the bad things that happened to him Just yesterday, I found his mother at my front door. She had finished the wine. Once in a while she comes over to my house too. But what should I do? I would feel like I did Ughino wrong. But now we have to do something. And we can take turns caring for the boy. How much trouble can that polite boy be? I know he takes care of all the housework, he could even help me!

He wanted to tell those women that if they really loved Ughino, the last thing to do was to separate him from his mother. He had to find a solution. Meanwhile, Ughino had left the store and was loading the bags on the cart. When they were alone again on the road, Ughino continued: Tell me about your idea. But we know nothing about him; he has been living there by himself for years, since he first came to the area!

But they call him Doctor Draconis, and I heard that he was a doctor. He may be able to help me. How did you come to think of him? Maybe because I heard he was a doctor, and maybe because nobody can help mom. What do you say? Would you go see him with me, and ask for his advice? Are you aware of what everybody around here says about him? There is just one thing She is a friend of mine and you can trust her. Let me know when you intend to go. I have to go home now. Markus was happy to see him like that, even if deep inside he was doubtful of the decision he had made.

He lived with his cat, Bastet, in a decrepit house, lost in a small wooded area between the villages of Sugano and Orvieto. Nobody knew what he did all-day, but if you walked along the house you could nearly always hear the sound of a clarinet, which — from the windows up high — would meander up to the top of leafy trees. It was not a pretty house and it certainly did not bring a smile to the people passing by. The window shutters were hanging down like the eyebrows of sad eyes. The outside walls served as a perennial bed to the gigantic climbing vegetation and even the main front door was so misshapen that it appeared to be grinning with contempt and grief.

In winter, he would always wear a long, black overcoat and a large hat with brims curved towards the bottom, while in summer, he would dress entirely in white. Shirt and pants were so big that his thin, tall figure would appear ghostly. His face was thin and sunken under his cheek bones and his eyes were set deep and overshadowed by his sockets, blocked and hidden from any observer.

His hair was long and smooth, down to his shoulders, by now partially grey, even though the age of the doctor was a mystery. When he would go to the village, he would speak to people in a very polite manner, often speaking in a polished style, not characteristic of that area. His speech was concise, just what was necessary and no more. Under no circumstances he had appeared hesitant when starting a conversation with unknown people. He was heard talking in public only once. It was when, at the market, a mother was screaming to her son, who apparently had stolen a pen from a man who sold stationary.

The woman hit him on the back, as she was screaming: I am hitting you also for having lied, for saying you did not steal that pen! Hermes was the one who told him to lie. And who is this Er When they found out, the young Hermes denied it repeatedly; he lied with strength and courage to the God who was accusing him. Faced by such impertinence, Apollo started to laugh and forgave him. Children must lie, Hermes tells them to.

When he would leave the house to do some shopping, he would walk on foot through the wooded area, dragging behind him a small four-wheel wooden cart on which he would load his supplies. The title of doctor had been given to him by the inhabitants of the village, as it looked like in the past he had practiced medicine. No one knew, however, what kind of medicine, nor if he ever had taken care of, or healed anybody.

The elderly ladies were very suspicious and if they happened to meet him, they preferred to go another way. Talk had it that he did not have any children and that he had moved to his house a long time before, following the untimely death of his young wife, whom, as a doctor, he apparently had not been able to save… Since then, he had been a recluse in his own house, a house where the only sound was that coming from his sad clarinet.

Doctor Draconis lived in that area in great privacy and this had created stories, testimonies and fairy tales about him. One of the stories about Draconis around San Quirico was that while he was travelling around the world looking for answers to his questions, young Doctor Draconis met and fell in love with Suseri, a Japanese girl.

Once, unbeknown to him- he hid a poisonous spider in the pocket of a jacket hanging in the closet. As fate would have it, that morning, Draconis did not wear it when he left. The spider bit her and she fell on the ground, where she died after a few minutes. When Draconis returned home, he found her on the ground and tried to save her, unsuccessfully. Word has it, that the grief was of such magnitude that the doctor from that day onward became a loner. The inhabitants of Porano had an addition to the story: Draconis would communicate with the spirit of the young Suseri through the sound of the clarinet.

Someone also said he had seen him at night go down the well in front of his house and come out only in the morning. No one could tell if the stories were true or born from the imagination of the people. The truth of the matter is that Draconis was, by then, an integral part of that environment, just like the woods, the houses, the vineyards and the vegetable gardens.

That afternoon he was going with him to the Orvieto library to pick up some books Josh had ordered the week before. He climbed on the seat of the jeep that was already in motion and they took off on the white road leading to the highway. Markus had an open and sincere rapport with his father and often shared his interests leafing through his papers, articles and books. When the family moved to Italy, through the whole delicate moving phase, Josh had been very close to his son, trying his best to offer him a strong and firm support at a time of great uncertainty.

As they were getting onto the highway, they met Ughino who was entering the road, going towards the Allen residence on his delivery tricycle. I have to ask Ughino something. I will be right back. I can come by around six. Be at my house at six. Markus was lost in thought. I often think about him and I am tempted to go visit him to write an article.

But Mary discourages me all the time On the other hand, not even Melampus was aware he was one! He was the first mortal granted divine powers by the gods. You know I love it when you tell me mythic stories! It was as if there was a universal mould for every occasion. Wait; let me think about the story He would understand the language of birds and insects because it seemed that two serpents, grateful for a favor, licked his ears. The man had been sick since he was a young boy, ever since he had witnessed the sacrifice of two rams by his father, when he saw him walking holding a knife covered with blood.

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That sight made Ificlus sick, but no one understood that, with the exception of the two birds of prey that witnessed the fact. He ran to get the old knife that was still stuck in the trunk of a tree and made Ificlus drink the rust formed by the blood of the ram, dissolved in a little water. Somehow, he had to get rid of that terrible image from his childhood, and perhaps the blood of the ram reminded him of that.

And what does Melampus have to do with Draconis? It was just to show you that Melampus was a doctor without knowing it. They got out of the car and started walking towards the escalators that were climbing inside the hill like a worm making its way upwards inside an apple. All around, they were surrounded by the tuff walls of the gallery, the color of toasted hazelnuts. The gallery was a steep climb, until it exited near Piazza Raineri. When they got off the escalators, the two turned to the right towards via Loggia dei Mercanti and when they stopped in front of the Piccolomini Hotel, they had to flatten against the wall to make room for a car with a powerful engine that was coming down the alleyway.

Markus was familiar with that car. I am happy to see you. And since city hall gave us the license, it would be very useful if you could write an article for your American editors. And the tourists would be very happy to know that here they could find the same food they eat in their own country! His small eyes hidden by the fat of his cheeks and his nose, flat above his swollen lips, made him truly grotesque. They said goodbye and as soon as the car was gone, Markus vented his disappointment: You even promised him you would write him an article?

But I did not tell him what I will write in the article! As they were paying for their snack, Josh heard someone calling him: Come sit with us for a little while! I find you very well. Looking towards the display case of the news vendor, Markus said: He said he is going to be at my house at six. Camerino then decided to emigrate for economic reasons and also out of the anger he still felt towards Italy because of his experiences.

In , he moved to Canada. He built a life in Canada and in his family grew with the arrival of his daughter Julia, who he named after his mother. Camerino worked for the Pascal Hardware chain and then opened his own retail shop in Park Extension, which he operated until retirement. His brother had died in helping rescuers during the Florence flood of the Arno River. Chills shot down his spine when he saw that the apples trees from which he had stolen fruit were still standing. For that simple act, he was sent to work in the coal mines for hours on end, bent over, not being able to stand in four-foot shafts.

With this year marking the 70th anniversary of the deportation, the RomanJewish community sought to include Camerino in its many commemorative events. Of the original 16 that survived the deportation, only two are left. Coincidentally, while he was in Rome, Erich Priebke died while awaiting prosecution. Priebke was a German officer who took part in the Ardeatine Caves massacre of in which Italian civilians were murdered as a reprisal for partisans killing 33 German soldiers. Until his dying days at years of age, he denied responsibility for the deaths and denied the Holocaust ever happened.

To let that happen would have been an insult to the. They each wanted to personally hear about his experiences in Auschwitz and they both asked if there was anything they could do for him. His response to each was the same: Through this simple request, we can only hope the lessons that Enzo Camerino and countless others who suffered through wartime atrocities recount, will serve that exact purpose. Storia di Enzo Camerino, sopravvissuto all'Olocausto. Mentre Enzo Camerino trascorreva la sua giovinezza in Italia, nel Paese vigevano leggi razziali contro gli Ebrei simili a quelle presenti in Germania, ma queste erano alquanto impopolari per la maggior parte degli italiani.

Le cose volsero al peggio dopo la caduta del governo di Mussolini e l'ingresso dei nazisti. Il 16 ottobre del , Enzo Camerino non aveva ancora 15 anni quando tutta la sua famiglia venne svegliata da forti colpi alla porta intorno alle 5 della mattina. Rimasero tutti in una prigione romana per altri due giorni per poi iniziare il loro viaggio in treno verso la Polonia, ammassati in carri bestiame, persone alla volta, al freddo e senza nessuno spazio per sedersi. Dopo il loro arrivo ad Auschwitz, durante la selezione, Camerino vide per l'ultima volta sua madre e sua sorella.

Gli uomini vennero ulteriormente divisi tra coloro che potevano lavorare e quelli che non erano in grado di farlo. Suo zio Renato, disabile, fu subito mandato alla camera a gas. Agli altri venne subito impresso il marchio del numero identificativo nel campo di concentramento. I suo era Le condizioni di vita e di lavoro erano molto dure e spesso crudeli.

Camerino visse in un ambiente in cui ogni passo falso poteva significare perdere la vita. I detenuti del campo erano ormai anime senza nome, sorvegliati da uomini brutali accompagnati da cani feroci, che si rivolgevano a loro chiamandoli con il numero tatuato sul corpo. Dopo due anni di vita trascorsa in queste condizioni, Camerino e suo fratello Luciano furono finalmente liberati nel Sono stati gli unici della famiglia abbastanza forti da sopravvivere.

Nel , in occasione della prima visita ad Auschwitz dopo la sua liberazione avvenuta nel , nella memoria di Camerino riaffiorarono subito ricordi che sembravano sepolti. Semplicemente per questo era stato mandato a lavorare nelle miniere, chino per ore e ore. Dei 16 sopravvissuti alla deportazione, solo due sono ancora in vita.

Il caso ha voluto che proprio mentre Camerino si trovava a Roma, Erich Priebke sia morto, mentre era in attesa di giudizio; Priebke era l'ufficiale tedesco che prese parte al massacro delle Fosse Ardeatine nel Egli aveva collaborato all'assassinio di civili italiani, per rappresaglia contro i partigiani che avevano ucciso 33 soldati tedeschi. Consentire che questo avvenisse avrebbe rappresentato un insulto per le anime di quegli innocenti al cui massacro quell'uomo aveva preso parte.

Entrambi hanno voluto ascoltare personalmente il racconto delle sue esperienze ad Auschwitz, e gli hanno chiesto se c'era qualcosa che potevano fare per lui. In its simplest form, beatboxing is vocal percussion — mixing intricate layers of sounds into a beat requires practice and skill. The music effortlessly glides between genres, from grunge to reggae to hip hop, but it is the natural chemistry between each member of the group that ties these diverse threads together.

It feels like winning the lottery. She describes herself as a shy kid who came out of her shell after discovering drums and beatboxing at the age of seven. She was naturally drawn to musical rhythms and the unpredictability of a career in show-business. Understandably, her parents had absolutely no desire for their daughter to become a musician. Fab led a sheltered life, playing sports and later on, studying translation in university. I can see why they were against it at first because being an artist is hard. You have to deal with messy schedules, do free gigs, be ready to travel to different places at anytime, whatever it takes to get your name out there.

The girls kept in touch through MySpace and started jamming and performing on the streets for fun. We picked Random Recipe because we met under random circumstances. We combined different genres. At first, our goal was to do play music to travel. Pursuing a career in the music business has exposed Di Fruscia to some harsh realities. As a woman working in a male-dominated industry, the young singer has faced her share of challenges and harsh realities.

Female musicians have had a difficult time getting the credit they deserve without being objectified and hyper sexualized. Di Fruscia is proud to follow in the footsteps of female singer-songwriters who are completely doing it for themselves. Random Recipe writes their own songs and has creative control over their music. But women have had to do it to a greater extent. I always go out there, wear whatever I feel comfortable in and perform. Until we are able to judge female performers solely by their music, there will always be sexism in this industry. For immigrants to Canada there are many new experiences and customs that colour the start of their lives in a new country.

Christmas in Canada, away from the family, rituals and comfort of home back in Italy, was one of the first notable moments they experienced. Everything was new and unexpected, from the weather to traditions. He looked forward to the dinner provided by CNR on Christmas Eve, expecting a festive feast that would help celebrate the special day.

But on December 24, he was greeted with a plain meal of chicken soup. Disappointed and alone, he went to a grocery store to buy one chocolate bar and one pound of grapes to celebrate. However, on December 25, he experienced what came as a surprise to most Italians: The railway offered a big celebration meal to all workers and my grandfather came to learn a new tradition.

Most early Italian immigrants count Christmas Eve as one of their more distinct memories of the new life ahead of them. Maria Tuccitto, originally from Sicily, immigrated to Canada in Besides it being her first arrival to Canada, it was the first time she met her husband Antonio, who she had married by proxy. Her first Christmas in Canada, spent in Toronto, she recalls as a joyous one, full of family and good food. This included traditional foods like lolli a short homemade pasta, much like gnocchi in meat and in vegetable sauces, pizza piena a type of stuffed pizza dough pie and biscotti.

It was those traditional foods that Nella Bruni craved during her first Christmas in Canada in She was left to trial and error to create a Christmas treat. Many Italians remember the traditional meatless meals on Christmas Eve. In Italy, Nella remembers there being huge bonfires in the piazza outside the church after midnight mass, where people would socialize and sing. In Canada, she embraced new traditions: And the way the windows were decorated at the big stores downtown, like Simpsons. At home the only thing lit up in our town was the presepio nativity scene. What made the biggest impact for her new holidays in Canada though, was her family.

For the first time in nine years, her whole family was together and was able to celebrate as one. Extended family came to celebrate as well and instead of celebrations being smaller and ending after midnight mass, like back in Italy, the Canadian version of Christmas meant there was a larger family celebrating, says Elia and everyone stayed to talk or play cards after the meal and open small gifts. Nella agrees that the bringing together of family and friends made the holiday memorable but the adjustment of settling into Canada and not having enough money for gifts, particularly for those who had young children, gave new immigrants like her a lot of frustration.

It took years of hard work before giving gifts became a regular part of the Italian-Canadian Christmas celebration, but a focus on tradition, religion, and family has always been constant. Martin est Duvernay, Laval, QC By Gabriel Riel-Salvatore elcoming, endearing and kind-hearted, Ida Fanzolato does a good job of satisfying our notions of the perfect Italian grandmother. She is reluctant to embrace the world of web 2. Although being part of that earlier generation that was happier setting handwritten correspondences onto paper, she embraces an active and fulfilling life that enables her to fully appreciate, without superficial concerns, the moments she devotes to her loved ones while sharing with them her many passions tied to her culture of origin.

The interior is modest and comfortable and decorated with all sorts of trinkets that convey the essence of a happy life — family portraits and photos of her grandchildren as well as canvases, most of which she painted herself in her spare time. Beautifully maintained, the kitchen looks like the well-tuned command centre of a s housewife.

Like a second living room, the kitchen has been the primal hub of the Fanzolato household ever since Ida began cooking in it just after her marriage in A woman of character, full of verve and passion, she has never been one to mope or feel sorry for herself. Supported by Sante, a loving husband who has always spoiled and respected her, Ida feels lucky to have enjoyed a marriage deeply grounded in love, rather than convenience.

Staying home was a well-considered and fully embraced decision. A lifestyle her second daughter, Sheila, is flirting with today following the birth of her third child. Though some see it as the choice of a bygone era or a form of self-imposed repression, others see it as a reasonable option in an age of eroding social values and heightened individualism, even if it means promoting voluntary simplicity.

Having found fulfillment in her life, Ida does not hesitate to recommend homemaking for anyone who finds it appealing and is able to afford it. How many nonni grandparents cherish the idea of caring for their grandchildren? Why should it be any different for parents with their own children? It is perhaps worth wondering how many people suffer from boredom in a job they have taken just to keep up appearances in our expensive, consumption-driven society.

Moreover, in a context where the traditional nuclear family is in decline, how can we imagine cultural legacies and traditions being perpetuated? Ida is passionate about reading and writing. She explains that such activities are an important part of her personality, as they help connect her to her roots. Being trilingual with the ability to switch effortlessly from one language to another without blinking, it is no surprise that she insists on teaching her grandchildren Italian, just like she did with her own children.

This most sacrosanct element of Italian culture is probably the most durable and distinctive cultural tradition that Italians carry across generations. There is definitely something comforting at the sight of them so interested in assimilating such skills. Drifting for a moment into fantasy, I let my mind settle on a scene in which the ghost of Christmas future takes Ida forward in time to see her progeny celebrating Christmas along with new generations of her children and grandchildren.

What might she like to see around the dining table and the fireplace? What memories would she hope to hear her family tell of? How would they remember nonna Ida? Ida fa parte della generazione che scrive ancora le sue lettere a mano. Una scelta che accarezza anche la sua seconda figlia Sheila, da quando ha avuto la sua terza bambina.

Sono valori che lei offre come modello a tutte le donne che lo desiderano e che possono permetterselo. Quanti sono i nonni che si sentono felici di occuparsi dei nipotini? Ad Ida piace tanto leggere e scrivere. Ma torniamo al cibo ed ai dolci. Perso nei miei pensieri, mi diverto ad immaginare come lo spirito di Ida, proiettato nel tempo, potrebbe assistere alle celebrazioni natalizie con i nipotini dei suoi nipotini.

Cosa ci sarebbe sulla loro tavola imbandita o al tepore del camino? Quali ricordi le piacerebbe sentirsi raccontare? Cosa starebbero dicendo nel parlare di nonna Ida? Surtout des portraits de famille et des photos de ses petits-enfants. Des tableaux aussi, pour la plupart peints par Ida dans ses temps libres. Quels souvenirs aimerait-elle entendre raconter? Que diraient-ils tous de nonna Ida? Instructions Mix dough until it reaches a firm consistency neither too soft nor too hard.

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Then take a teaspoon of mixture and roll it into the corn flakes using your hands until it gets entirely covered with cereal flakes. Place each cookie on a baking sheet lined with aluminum paper. Once cooled, sprinkle with icing sugar. Christmas is a time of year for celebrations and plenty of family recipes and heartfelt comfort food. Preparing for the big day is sometimes as much fun as Santa's visit itself. The following four easy cookie and cake recipes will be a treat to make and enjoy with your children and loved ones.

Una volta raffreddati, sporverateli con dello zucchero a velo. Instruction Take teaspoons of dough, then form into small balls and roll into the icing sugar. Place them on a cooking sheet and press down lightly with two fingers. Make sure to space them out evenly to prevent them from sticking together. Instruction Add all the ingredients together and mix for about 90 seconds. When the ingredients are combined, butter cake pan and cover with flour. Pour mixture evenly into cake pan. Let cool and dust with icing sugar. Istruzioni Versate tutti gli ingredienti assieme in una ciotola e mescolate il tutto per circa 90 secondi.

Fate raffreddare la ciambella e spolveratela a piacere con dello zucchero a velo. Instructions Mix ingredients and then form into a ball. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour. Then roll out dough and form it onto a glass pie oven dish. Reserve leftover pieces to place on top of filling. Instructions Mix ingredients with a fork and pour on top of dough. Then use leftover dough strips to form a lattice over the filling. Stendere la pasta con un mattarello e trasferirla sopra la tortiera.

Creare delle strisce ricavate dai ritagli di pasta per realizzare il tipico decoro a losanghe. Istruzioni Mischiare tutti gli ingredienti con una forchetta e depositare il composto sulla pasta frolla adagiata su un piatto di vetro da forno. Ricoprire il tutto con delle strisce di pasta frolla.

Pontecorvo Frosinone , Lazio Speaks: Filmmaking Goal in life: To have my own studio, production company and movie theatre chain. Thing about you that would surprise most people: I try to be vegan. Cotolette Best pizza in Montreal: Milano Best panino in Montreal: Muzique Describe your ideal night out in Montreal: Outdoor festival, food truck, dancing at Nesta and 3 am chow mein on the Main.

Italian saying or quote: You prep yourself mentally and physically for tomato sauce weekend. Last time you went to Italy: Summer of Favourite Italian city: The Killers Best Italian song: Ilary Blasi How long have you been reading Panoram? Seven years Most common name in your family: Tony 4 Best memory growing up ItalianCanadian: Sunday pasta with the whole family; my parents being the loudest at my sports games; and playing tombola, not bingo.

Rachelle Delli Quadri Nickname: Student at Concordia University Age: Dance, soccer and most importantly, food! I dislike ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise and relish. Da Emma Favourite dish: Cotolette and homemade cannelloni. Best pizza in Montreal: Best panino in Montreal: Milano Best nightclub in Montreal: Rouge Italian saying or quote: You know you are Italian when or if: You were raised by your nonni and started dipping your.

Summer of Best Italian song: Always was, always will be: Fabio Cannavaro What you like most about Panoram: It brings the ItalianCanadian population together. Every February, new additions to our community are introduced. This is an annual tradition that is anxiously anticipated. More info is available on page 6. Why travel to our homeland with Panoram Italia? For one, we use only the most experienced operators to ensure an amazing experience. Secondly, we have a proven itinerary, which will satisfy the first timer as well as the seasoned traveller.

Thirdly, we use only 4-star hotels that provide excellent accommodations as well as great food. And last but not least, travelling with like-minded individuals, mostly Italian-Canadians, makes for a very friendly, relaxed atmosphere. Simply put, you will feel as if you are accompanied by family. I recommend booking as soon as possible as we only have 20 places left per date. Please refer to page 55 for booking information. I was at the grocery store and slipped on spilled liquid that was not cleaned up. What are my rights? The liquid obviously should not have been on the floor.

The store has an obligation to keep its premises safe and avoid any situation of danger. It should have cleaned the floor and posted some type of warning sign to its customers. It is therefore negligent or at fault. As your lawyers, we will help you prove that the store is at fault. As a result, the store or its insurance company is responsible to compensate you for what medical treatment you need, for your loss of enjoyment, your pain and suffering, your out of pocket expenses and loss of earnings. Lastly, I want to take this opportunity to wish you and your loved ones the best Christmas and holiday season ever, filled with love and happiness.

Please do not forget the less fortunate in our midst by committing an act of charity toward our fellow man. As I reached for the lumber the entire stack fell on my head. Do I have any recourse? The lumber was clearly improperly stacked and not secured. Therefore, the store created a dangerous situation. This resulted in you sustaining significant bodily injuries. The store will suggest that you caused or contributed to the lumber striking you by you moving the lumber.

With our advice and assistance we will prove the store created this situation and was negligent. Once this is accomplished, we will obtain compensation for you from the store or its insurer for your losses and your pain and suffering. I was walking on the sidewalk and tripped on a crack in the cement. Can I pursue the City for compensation? The crack in the sidewalk or the unevenness in the sidewalk has to be significant enough for you to seek relief from the City or its insurer.

A very small crack or an uneven sidewalk barely visible to the naked eye will not result in any relief for you. Municipalities are traditionally tough adversaries. You have to prove everything to them to be successful in seeking compensation. As your lawyers we will guide you towards proving that the City was negligent and that you deserve compensation for your pain and suffering and losses.

Jesus was a revolutionary figure both in theological and historical terms. The Creator of the universe took the shape of a human body, out of love, to convey to humanity his message of affection, equality, social justice and spiritual rejuvenation. Undergoing a crisis in its fundamental values, it is rapidly losing ground. It is now aiming on the renewed vision of Pope Francis I to lead the Church into the 21st century complex and fast-paced reality.

Let us stop and ponder on the meaning of Christmas at the beginning of the third millennium in our secularized world, dominated by technology and consumerism. In , two significant events occurred in Rome: The new Pope has not shied away from controversy in his eight months at the helm of the Catholic Church. He has not hesitated to speak his mind on important social issues such as the abuses of the financial system, gay rights, contraception, divorce, the moral obligation to treat African illegal migrants humanely, chemical weapons used in the Syrian civil war, and Church corruption.

Now leader of the Catholic Church, his frank statements often represent a departure both in tone and message from his predecessors. As a Jesuit intellectual, Pope Francis I has focused on social outreach, showing a keen political sensibility and a self-effacing humility. His statements and style have immediately made him a beloved figure to the young, the poor and underdogs worldwide.

In the last few weeks, he made striking utterances against corruption and abuse of power. Organized crime bosses who invest and recycle money are getting upset because they have prospered for years on the connivance of the Church. Which begs the question: The simple answer is very significant. Pope Francis I is living proof that being a real Christian means being a good human being, which in turn means standing for social justice and practicing brotherly love, rather than pursuing material gain out of greed.

A deliberate choice paying tribute to the beloved man from Assisi who brought about a renewal within the corrupt church of the 13th century. Let us keep this in mind when we gather with our loved ones around the table and celebrate Christmas, the birth of a child that forever changed the notion of what it means to be a human being. Alberto Di Giovanni, the founder of Centro Scuola and a tireless advocate for the propagation of Italian language and culture in Canada. He immigrated to Canada in April , after having completed high school and some seminary studies in Italy.

I always considered those jobs temporary, to adjust to life in Canadian society. I always wanted to go back to university. We were already seeing a different Canada, involving newcomers more in the mainstream. It was during his time at St. The two crossed paths when Alberto got involved in the direction and production of different plays put on by the St.

It was, and still is, a place where children could take part in Italian language and culture classes. The more enriched his or her personality would be. I was convinced that it would help in developing a better and more profound culture in Canada. After a long battle and a lot of convincing, eventually the Heritages Languages Program came to fruition. In the s, in his position as director of the school, he organized a program through Centro Scuola that sent students to Italy for language courses during the summer; a program that continues to this day.

Along with teachers and various other chaperones, Di Giovanni accompanied many students to his native Abruzzo. Not to mention the library named in his honour at the Columbus Centre, which houses an impressive collection of Italian and Italian-Canadian literature and artwork. His new book, Italian Canadians: Citizenship and Nationality, will be published in both English and Italian in April Di Giovanni regards the mostra as one of his most popular projects. Questo anche grazie ad un cittadino di Toronto: Alberto Di Giovanni, fondatore del Centro Scuola e instancabile sostenitore della diffusione della lingua e cultura italiana in Canada.

Michael College, dove consegue la laurea con lode in Scienze Politiche nel , e completa un Master in studi italiani nel Durante la sua permanenza al St. I due incrociano le loro strade quando Alberto viene coinvolto nella produzione e direzione di alcuni spettacoli organizzati dal Club Italiano del St. Michael, del quale Di Iulio era membro. Posso senz'altro definirlo una guida," dice Di Iulio a proposito del suo primo incontro con Di Giovanni. Nel Di Giovanni fonda il Centro Scuola e Cultura Italiana, che ora ha sede nel Columbus Centre, da sempre un luogo dove i bambini possono prendere parte a lezioni sulla lingua e sulla cultura italiana.

Come lui stesso riferisce: Di sicuro l'opera di Di Giovanni non si ferma qui. Nel organizza, in veste di direttore della scuola, un programma che, attraverso il Centro Scuola, invia in Italia stu-. Insieme ad alcuni insegnanti e ad altri accompagnatori, Di Giovanni segue molti studenti fino in Abruzzo, la sua regioned'origine. Per gli studenti di Di Giovanni, questi viaggi rappresentano un'esperienza di reale trasformazione.

Al momento del suo ritiro sostiene che: La cosa importante per me" continua "era poter salutare gli studenti. Per non parlare della libreria a lui intitolata presso il Columbus Centre, che ospita una collezione di opere d'arte e letteratura italiana e italo-canadese. Il suo nuovo libro: I due eventi combinano tradizioni familiari, culturali, artistiche e religiose, e sono sempre riusciti nell'intento di trasmettere ai giovani lo spirito del Natale.

It may be true that time heals all wounds and memories fade with age, but there are some things that all Canadians — both young and old — should strive to never forget. Through the advent of a new initiative entitled Peace Through Valour, retired senator Consiglio Di Nino makes an appeal to Canadians to actively remember the more than 90, Canadian soldiers who, during the Italian Campaign of World War II, fought valiantly alongside other Allied troops to bring peace to the Italian peninsula.

The Canadians also fought vicious battles to regain control of strategic Italian cities such as Ortona, Cassino, and Rimini. Casualties totaled more than 20, The volunteers who comprise Peace Through Valour aim to ensure that the Italian Campaign is no longer forgotten. The project, funded by Villa Charities, aims to have a monument erected in Toronto dedicated to the memory of all those who served in the campaign.

The Peace Through Valour committee expects to have confirmation before Christmas this year. Plans are going along smoothly; the Peace Through Valour committee has recently selected a finalist from the artists who proposed designs for the monument and has entered into negotiations to finalize the design. In addition to the monument in Toronto, the initiative also hopes to send smaller replicas of the monument to each of the 19 cemeteries in Italy where fallen Canadian soldiers rest, including Bari, Caserta, Cassino, Florence and Rome.

In order to raise funds for the monument and to honour the veterans who fought in the Italian Campaign, Peace Through Valour also held a gala dinner on October 16 at the Montecassino Hotel and Event Venue in Toronto. The event was very well attended and succeeded in raising enough money for the creation and the installation of the monument.

The greater success of the evening, however, was that nearly 60 veterans of the Italian Campaign were able to personally attend. They are buried in cemeteries throughout Italy. To them I say thank you. We will not forget. If you are someone who served or know the story of someone who served, please contact Peace Through Valour at info peacethroughvalour. Donations can be made to Villa Charities Inc. For more information on the project, please visit its website at www.

In commemoration of the 70th anniversary of the Canadian soldiers who fought valiantly during the Italian Campaign of World War II, Panoram Italia magazine spoke with three veterans about their recollections. In fact, he recalls dates and locations with an awe-inspiring memory, made all the more impressive considering the World War II veteran is 90 years old. The Brockville, Ontario, resident said he decided to join the Canadian Army when he learned that the Allies were in deep trouble.

He enlisted in , and that same year he was sent to England. From there, he and his fellow troops from First Canadian Core moved on to Italy through various areas including Ortona and Naples. He was just 20 years old when he fought in the fiercest battles to bring peace to Italy. But we all went through with it. And nowadays more information is making its way to the public thanks to a commitment to honour these veterans who fought for Italy. It is good to finally be recognized for what we did.

While he was in Sicily, mortars struck him twice in two different attacks. He is glad that the Peace Through Valour project has put a spotlight on Canadian soldiers who fought in Italy. But the year-old veteran who calls British Columbia home also has memories of enduring friendship and hope. There was a real camaraderie there. And Italy is also the country that served as a fast track to adulthood for Bannerman who was 22 when he fought in the Italian Campaign.

We would bring some flour to a mamma who would knead the dough and make homemade pasta for us. Before too long, we would end up having an aunt, older sister and god knows how many brothers. It was like a surrogate family. For immigrants to Canada there are many new experiences and customs that colour the start of their lives in a new country.

Christmas in Canada, away from the family, rituals and comfort of home back in Italy, was one of the first notable moments they experienced. Everything was new and unexpected, from the weather to traditions. He looked forward to the dinner provided by CNR on Christmas Eve, expecting a festive feast that would help celebrate the special day. But on December 24, he was greeted with a plain meal of chicken soup. Disappointed and alone, he went to a grocery store to buy one chocolate bar and one pound of grapes to celebrate. However, on December 25, he experienced what came as a surprise to most Italians: The railway offered a big celebration meal to all workers and my grandfather came to learn a new tradition.

Most early Italian immigrants count Christmas Eve as one of their more distinct memories of the new life ahead of them. Maria Tuccitto, originally from Sicily, immigrated to Canada in Besides it being her first arrival to Canada, it was the first time she met her husband Antonio, who she had married by proxy. Her first Christmas in Canada, spent in Toronto, she recalls as a joyous one, full of family and good food.

This included traditional foods like lolli a short homemade pasta, much like gnocchi in meat and in vegetable sauces, pizza piena a type of stuffed pizza dough pie and biscotti. It was those traditional foods that Nella Bruni craved during her first Christmas in Canada in She was left to trial and error to create a Christmas treat. Many Italians remember the traditional meatless meals on Christmas Eve. In Italy, Bruni remembers there being huge bonfires in the piazza outside the church after midnight mass, where people would socialize and sing.

In Canada, she embraced new traditions: And the way the windows were decorated at the big stores downtown, like Simpsons. At home the only thing lit up in our town was the presepio nativity scene.

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What made the biggest impact for her new holidays in Canada though, was her family. For the first time in nine years, her whole family was together and was able to celebrate as one. Extended family came to celebrate as well and instead of celebrations being smaller and ending after midnight mass, like back in Italy, the Canadian version of Christmas meant there was a larger family celebrating, says Trifrio and everyone stayed to talk or play cards after the meal and open small gifts. Bruni agrees that the bringing together of family and friends made the holiday memorable but the adjustment of settling into Canada and not having enough money for gifts, particularly for those who had young children, gave new immigrants like her a lot of frustration.

It took years of hard work before giving gifts became a regular part of the Italian-Canadian Christmas celebration, but a focus on tradition, religion, and family has always been constant. The Italian-Canadian Job Just as the world took notice of the tiny island of Giglio when the Costa Concordia ran aground in January , all eyes were on the Tuscan coast again this past September as the ,ton cruise ship was slowly raised upright.

The first step in what is being called the biggest salvage mission ever to be executed was a success thanks in part to the specialized technology provided by Waterloo-based robotics firm, 2G Robotics. Gillham and his team were approached early summer of to carry out an underwater survey and assess the damaged hull that was pushed up against the rocky reef 16 kilometres off the coast of Italy when the ship partially sank on January 13, , killing 32 people. Its captain, Francesco Schettino, who left the ship ahead of some of the crew and passengers, is under trial for involuntary manslaughter and abandoning the ship.

The metre long ship is in plain view from the harbor of Giglio island, home to 1, residents. Many of them were among the first to arrive to the port after the shipwreck to offer blankets, warm clothing and shelter to the thousands of shaken passengers. The Costa Concordia, built in , has extensive damage on the starboard side and is heavily crushed near the bow. The data collection provided by 2G Robotics helped the crew best determine how to roll the ship upright in a process called parbuckling. The ship is now resting on an artificial steel seabed the length of 1.

On the day the mission began, Gillham and the 2G Robotics team were glued to the livestream footage of the salvage site watching the whole thing unfold as they received update emails and telephone calls from Palej who was on location off the Tuscan coast. Early on the morning of September 17, the ship was resting upright. The Jews, as they are still today, had been an active Roman community for thousands of years.

On October 16, , Camerino was not yet 15 years of age when his entire family was awakened by a knock at the door around 5 am. German officers, accompanied by Italian police, presented his father with an official document stating that, because they were no longer Italians but stateless Jews, they were all to be relocated to a work camp.

They had to immediately pack their bags for an eight-day journey. That day, 1, Roman Jews were rounded up for deportation to Auschwitz. They were all kept in a Roman jail for another two days until they began their journey by train to Poland, herded together in cattle cars 50 to 60 at a time, with no heat or room to sit. Upon their arrival to Auschwitz, the selection process was the last time Camerino saw his mother and sister. His uncle Renato, an invalid, was sent immediately to the gas chamber. They soon after tattooed him with his camp number: Living and working conditions were harsh and most often cruel.

Camerino lived in an environment where every slip-up could have resulted in the loss of his life. The camp inmates were now nameless souls and only addressed by their tattooed number and guarded by brutal guards with vicious dogs. Different work duties separated Camerino from his brother Luciano and father. Because they were assigned different huts, Camerino would often sneak out at night to visit his brother to exchange news or scraps of food. On one of these nights in , he found out his father Italo had died earlier that day. While out on a work detail, Italo was severely beaten by a German guard for not being able to get up fast enough from a fall he took.

After two years of living under these conditions, Camerino and his brother Luciano were finally liberated in Of the 1, deported from Rome on that day in October , only 16 came back; Camerino and his brother were two of them. Following the war, he lived with relatives until his life started to get back to some kind of normalcy. In , he married his wife Silvana Pontecorvo and in he had a son and named him Italo after his father.

Camerino then decided to emigrate for economic reasons and also out of the anger he still felt towards Italy because of his experiences. In , he moved to Canada. He built a life in Canada and in his family grew with the arrival of his daughter Julia, who he named after his mother. Camerino worked for the Pascal Hardware chain and then opened his own retail shop in Park Extension, which he operated until. His brother had died in helping rescuers during the Florence flood of the Arno River. Chills shot down his spine when he saw that the apples trees from which he had stolen fruit were still standing.

For that simple act, he was sent to work in the coal mines for hours on end, bent over, not being able to stand in four-foot shafts. With this year marking the 70th anniversary of the deportation, the RomanJewish community sought to include Camerino in its many commemorative events. Of the original 16 that survived the deportation, only two are left. Coincidentally, while he was in Rome, Erich Priebke died while awaiting prosecution. Priebke was a German officer who took part in the Ardeatine Caves massacre of in which Italian civilians were murdered as a reprisal for partisans killing 33 German soldiers.

Until his dying days at years of age, he denied responsibility for the deaths and denied the Holocaust ever happened. To let that happen would have been an insult to the memory of those innocent souls he had a hand in murdering. They each wanted to personally hear about his experiences in Auschwitz for themselves, and they both asked if there was anything they could do for him. His response to each was the same: Through this simple request, we can only hope the lessons that Enzo Camerino and countless others who suffered through wartime atrocities recount, will serve that exact purpose.

Storia di Enzo Camerino, sopravvissuto all'Olocausto. Mentre Enzo Camerino trascorreva la sua giovinezza in Italia, nel Paese vigevano leggi razziali contro gli Ebrei simili a quelle presenti in Germania, ma queste erano alquanto impopolari per la maggior parte degli italiani. Le cose volsero al peggio dopo la caduta del governo di Mussolini e l'ingresso dei nazisti.

Il 16 ottobre del , Enzo Camerino non aveva ancora 15 anni quando tutta la sua famiglia venne svegliata da forti colpi alla porta intorno alle 5 della mattina. Rimasero tutti in una prigione romana per altri due giorni per poi iniziare il loro viaggio in treno verso la Polonia, ammassati in carri bestiame, persone alla volta, al freddo e senza nessuno spazio per sedersi. Dopo il loro arrivo ad Auschwitz, durante la selezione, Camerino vide per l'ultima volta sua madre e sua sorella. Gli uomini vennero ulteriormente divisi tra coloro che potevano lavorare e quelli che non erano in grado di farlo.

Suo zio Renato, disabile, fu subito mandato alla camera a gas. Agli altri venne subito impresso il marchio del numero identificativo nel campo di concentramento.