da uno scritto originale di Benito Viapiana

 A Trip to a Foreign Land

It was the April of 1964… Many of us were compelled by an ungrateful destiny to leave our native land, some for one reason, some for another; but all with one thing in common - hoping to find a better future. Our Region Calabria, a poor land scorched by the hot sun, wasn’t producing enough crops to live on. And there was no sign of improvement. The war had left a sign of poverty everywhere and many people were living in disgrace and shame. There was no way out; there was no work! The farmers were tired of working for the poor crops that their fields were producing. Craftsmen were disappearing and people were frustrated, not being able to find work. They were willing to go to a land which was unknown to them, a land that would give them what their land wasn’t able to give. Even though this new land was so far away, they were willing to give it a try. And so we left our land, our friends of childhood, but most of all our dearest families.
I already lived this experience when I went to Luxembourg. To be honest I have to say that I was happy there. Two reasons why I was happy there: first, because I was working in a good tailor shop; second because it was close to home. Each time I wished to go home, one week of work was enough to put money aside to go back. (This could never be done by living in far land such as Canada.)
I remember when I was in Luxembourg, I received a letter from my father, asking me to go back home because we had to go to Rome for the visa; this letter did not please me. I was not pleased with that decision. I did not want to live in such a far land. My father loved to keep the family together, and he was always saying that after my brothers and I were settled, he too, with the rest of the family, would come to Canada. (This never came to pass). My mother did not say much about coming to Canada. But I remember that often she said that she would want to live with me. So I came back from Luxembourg to go to Rome for the “visa”.
 

　                  The old train Station of Cosenza

Train “Freccia del Sud”

 At that time, we were afraid that something would go wrong at the office in Rome and we would be refused the papers to go to Canada. I remember when we had just left the train station of Cosenza, and reached Paola to be connected with the train (la “Freccia del Sud”) for Rome...Here many other people boarded the train. Among these people there was a man about fifty years old; well dressed and very kind. He sat beside my father and, right way they started to have a conversation together. I was very shy back then, and I was listening to their conversations subtly. This man was asking my father so many questions, and I was afraid that this man was going to cause some problems for us. Among all these questions that he was asking my father, I remember he asked if we were devoted to St. Francis of Paola. “Certainly!” my father replied; informing him that all the family visited the Sanctuary of St. Francis of Paola. (Some time before, we had gone to the Paola beach and on that occasion we visited the Sanctuary).
So, we arrived in Rome… We went to the Emigration Office, where all went well. They informed us that in a few weeks we would receive the passport. My father and I we went to the Vatican for a short visit and then we went back to the train station to return to our village (Dipignano). When we arrived home, we had not even the time to say that all went well; that my mother said: “Your passport has already arrived!” That was incredible…Until today I never understood how the passport arrived home before us! The only thing that came to our minds was that the man that we met on the train at the Paola station might have been someone working at the Emigration Office in Rome, where we went for the visa, and he put his hand on our passport… No other explanation!
 

LEAVING THE VILLAGE WAS NOT EASY:

St. Nicola Church

I remember vividly when I left my village, Dipignano. It was a beautiful sunny day in spring. My mother was holding back her tears; she did not want to show her sorrow because I had told her: “If I see you crying, I will not go to Canada.” My father was walking back and forth in the rooms without saying a word. It seemed to be a funeral…Yes, a funeral, because back then we were leaving not knowing when we would see each other again. We were a great group from our village, Dipignano, leaving that day. Some names I remember, some others, especially their last names I don’t, maybe I never knew them. Among these I remember Luigi Fiorino, his wife Maria and their young children, Saverio and Santino and his mother-in-law, known as “Finuzza e Betta”. (I apologize to her relatives if I don’t remember her name). As well, there was Mario Miceli - he was about my age.  We got to know each other better on the boat, and we become friends; this friendship lasts till today. Also in our group, there was Mario Scornaienchi and Antonio Beltrano (I believe his last name is correct) nicknamed “Furmichella”. He was just married then, and he was returning to Canada. He was one who could tell us about his previous experiences in Canada. We all asked him questions which we hoped would prepare us to enter Canada. Mario Ciardullo, with his minibus, took us to Naples to avoid the inconvenience of the train, and this was good for all of us.

ARRIVE AT NAPLES:

When we got to the Port of Naples, they put us all in a big hall together with other passengers, tourists, and emigrants. The time before embarking was a long wait, therefore I had lots of time to kill and, because we were leaving late at night, I had lots of time available.

When I was in Luxembourg I had met a guy from Naples. His name was Coda Lucio, and when he left Luxembourg he said to me: “If you ever come to Naples, please come and see me”. This seemed the right time to do so. So I asked someone how far his address was (Piazza Nazionale) and they told me that it was very close by. So I went. When I saw my friend he asked me what was I doing in Naples, and I told him that I was leaving for Canada. When he heard that, it was obvious that he was happy for me. We stayed together for a couple of hours and then he accompanied me to the Port, where we said goodbye…We never saw each other again! (This is life).

At the Port I found my friends once again, and we talked of this long trip that was ahead of us. We were jokingly telling stories of the past, trying to forget the nostalgia for our loved ones that we were already feeling.

EMBARK ON THE VULCANIA AT THE PORT OF NAPLES:

Finally, late at night, they let us embark…We were tired but filled with euphoria. After a couple of hours, the boat slowly began to leave the coast of Naples… The boat seemed to be still, but little by little we could see that the Port of Naples was disappearing from our sight. We set sail for Palermo, Sicily, which we reached the following morning. Here, other passengers came aboard. We left the Port of Palermo right way.  It was a beautiful day; it was hot and it was a pleasure to be at stern. We were all there enjoying the beautiful panorama that slowly was vanishing before our very eyes.

STOP AT THE PORT OF PORTUGAL:

SHORT VISIT AT THE PORT:

The fallowing morning we arrived at Portugal, where we were able to debark and visit some stores near by. I had made some new friends and with them, we went to a Café near by to taste a good cup of espresso. Of Portugal I remember very little, it would be presumptuous for me to speak about Portugal. I remember the roads were made of slab stone, just like part of our old City of Cosenza, and there were some beautiful arches at the entrance of the City. All this was new for me, maybe for this reason I still remember it today. Here we took many pictures, where my friends provided some of these photos for me, which with pleasure I display on this document.

THE AMERICAN GIRL BARBARA TOTOROTO’:

Gala evening on the boat

As I already said, I had made new friends. Among these there was an American girl with a funny name Barbara Totorotó. She didn’t speak a word of Italian. All of us were admiring this beautiful girl from a distance, while she was playing solitaire seated by her self at a table near by. None of us tried to approach her, we were shy and fearful.  Among us there were some guys that had been in the United States of America. I thought that they could speak English, but I was asking myself: “If these guys speak English, why they don’t speak to this girl?” None of them would approach her.  So I decided to try to talk to her, I went to her table and asked her: “Parla Italiano?” “No” she replied! “Parlez vous Francais?”  “No” was her answer. Because I was there, I started to speak Italian to her, and she made me understand that her Grandfather was Italian but she had never learned Italian. When my friends saw that I was there, they all came to the table and we were joking with someone who was trying to translate what she was saying. In the evening we were all at the dancing hall, waiting in turn to dance with this American girl who never said no to anyone. She was very kind to everybody.

THE GIRL FROM NAPLES:

During these two or three days I met a girl from Naples. Her name was Nunzia Esposito. She was very beautiful. This encounter made this long trip much easier, because we could spend time together talking about the trip and the places that we were going to. She had a sister named Maria, and my friend Mario asked me if he could go out with her. So even he was going with her sister.  When we are twenty years old for sure we do not have our heads on our shoulders, and for sure we are not yet ready for marriage, but if I was older at that time, I would have proposed to her. Nevertheless, she was going to the United States and I was going to Canada. We wrote each other back and forth for a while, and then all ended there.  

                            SEASICKNESS:

We left the Straits of Gibraltar, it was still warm, but not as it was in Naples and Portugal. The wind was blowing a bit, and being at stern wasn’t pleasing anymore. Therefore, we spent more time in the lounge together with our friends.  We had breakfast, lunch and dinner together almost every day.  I remember once, we were in the lunch room ready to devour our meal as soon as we could, so that we could go back to play cards and games together once again. This particular day they had prepared cabbage for lunch. To be honest, I am not so crazy about eating cabbage. Maybe for this reason I was digging into the plate, putting aside what I didn’t like. Attached to the fork was a green caterpillar the size of a finger. I almost brought it to my mouth when I realized what it was; I was shivering. That’s when I decide to say enough with cabbage. I left the fork in the plate, without saying a word to those who were seated at the table with me. I didn’t want to spoil their lunch. My friends were asking: “Benito why aren’t you eating?” I replied: “Cabbage is not for me!” When the waiter came to our table, I took the fork, and without saying a word I showed it to the waiter. When he realized what was attached to the fork, he was turned off himself. He was trying to apologize, but I stopped him; I didn’t want to get everybody’s attention.  He asked me if I wanted to eat something else, I said “no thanks, I don’t feel like eating right now.” And I asked him for some fruit and he brought a couple of oranges and two bananas. (This was the first time that I ate a whole banana).

Meanwhile we were getting far way from land. Our panorama was reduced to sea and sky. The only thing that we could see was the wake that the boat was leaving behind. And from time to time they were calling our attention to some dolphins in the area. The only inconvenience we faced at that time was the weather… It wasn’t anymore hot like Italy or Portugal.  It was cold! Therefore we couldn’t stay out too long. The sky wasn’t clear anymore, it was grey and then black. The wind started to pickup and the sea began to be rough, and this hindered us from meeting regularly with our friends. Most of us spent many hours alone in our cabins, and we fell asleep with the screeching of the boat. The boat was rocking us continually. My bed was beside a small round window, and I had the sensation of sometimes being submerged in water and sometimes seeing only the sky.  This was causing me to live in a state of anxiety.

Many times I tried to go to the restaurant to have some thing to eat, but as I reached the place to go down the stairs, I had to go back because, each time I reached that point, I felt like throwing up. My seasickness was too strong.  Because of that I had to stay in bed in my cabin, where I would ring a waiter, and he would serve me some thing to eat. They were great! Their service was very good. I remember once, the waiter brought me a whole chicken for lunch; I had a feast that day!!!!

One day, while I was trying to go to the restaurant, I met a lady from my village; her name was Finuzza, better known to us with her nickname (Finuzza e Betta) - a good lady. We left Dipignano together and she also was going to Canada. On this particular day as she was also trying to go to the restaurant, she was very frustrated because the seasickness was too stressful on her.  She was crying and asking St. Anthony to give her strength through this long trip. On that occasion I tried to comfort her, telling her that soon we would be in Canada; but I needed that comfort myself.

As matter of fact, as time went by, we were getting closer and closer to North America. The days were grey, it was cold and it was raining continually. I was asking myself, “Where are we going?”  It was almost the month of May: only two more days before May first. I left Italy with a summer suit on, and now here I needed to wear an overcoat if I wanted to go out for a fresh air? This was bothering me a lot.  Meanwhile on board we were preparing to disembark, and mostly we were worrying about customs and duty because we all had something to declare, and we feared that they wouldn’t let us pass that small misery that we had with us. To be honest I had nothing to worry about, because I didn’t have much to declare, except a big capicollo(Italian salami). All my friends that I met on the boat were asking me to eat that capicollo with them, because they were saying: “no one can pass any kind of salami”. But I assured them that somehow I would be able to pass it, and that I would eat the capicollo with my relatives in Toronto.  Everyone was trying to discourage me that it was impossible to go through with it without being noticed. Bu I was firm with my decision.

FINALLY ARRIVED IN HALIFAX           THE FAMOUSE PIER 21           CAPICOLLO

                           The Capicollo:

It was May the second when we got to Halifax, the famous Pier 21… It was a very cold day, especially for all of us that had left the hot sun of Italy.  At that time we started to say goodbye to our friends that were going to the United States… I said goodbye to the American girl Barbara Totorotó and to Nunzia Esposito, and we exchanged addresses with the promise to write to each other, and all other friends that I had met. Then everyone was on his own trying to find a solution at customs and duty. We were all preoccupied because we didn’t know what would happen at customs. All of us wanted to pass that little “misery” that we were trying to bring to our relatives.

My eyes were focused on the men in charge at the counter, and I was looking at what was happening. Then I noticed that they were looking into the carry-on bags to see what we were carrying…and then they put a cross on the outside of the bag. When I realized that, that was it! I said: “is that all?” I took heart and carried on with my plan. I opened my carry-on bag, took the capicollo from the bag, and put it into one of my coat pockets.  I folded the coat and put it over my arm. When it was my turn at the counter, I put my bag on it; they opened it and marked it with a cross. A few steps away from the counter when nobody was watching me, I took the capicollo and put it back in the bag. That was all. My friends were asking sarcastically what had happened with the capicollo. When I showed it to them, they wanted to know how I had got it through.

Mario Miceli, my friend, asked me to speak to the men in charge as if I could speak English already. He was worried because they were opening his trunk. He had some salami and some seeds, which his brother needed to plant in his garden when he arrived at his brother’s home. Luigi Fiorino was bringing an “entire pig” (a lot of cured pork, salami etc.).   He was going to Canada with his family; this would have been a great start for them. It was much easier for him…someone introduced him to one of the men at the counter to whom he gave a bribe and he was home free (as some would say). 

ON THE TRAIN TO TORONTO:

When we had just finished with customs, we were anxious to go on the train. We were all tired but filled with euphoria, if so I could say. We couldn’t wait any more to get to Toronto and embrace our relatives. So after a long stop at Halifax, the train began to move. Those long cars were filled with passengers; we looked like some kind of animals going to slaughter. Especially since after a while people, being tired, began to take their shoes off, maybe some had on the same underwear that they had on when they left their own village. Anyways, there was an awful smell in those cars. It was even stronger when we were going out to the other car and then back. This was felt less when we were focused on the beautiful view that was surrounding us.  Some of that scenery I will never forget…The trees of many colors, the immense green land and many lakes that we passed by gave us a sense of peace, knowing that, after all, our trip was coming to an end. I remember we were coasting by a big lake; I thought that it was the sea. And I was puzzled as to why the boat hadn’t debarked us in Toronto? That’s when someone smarter said “this is Lake Ontario”. We passed by many car cemeteries ( scrap yards) and, seeing so many scrapped cars, which at my sight  looked almost like new, I said to my friends: “Why would they throw away cars that  are almost like new?”  This gave us hope, believing that Canada, indeed, was a rich country, and that our future finally was going to be better.

 VERY LONG STOP IN MONTREAL

We arrived at Montreal at four o’ clock in the morning. Here many people got off the train because this was their destination, therefore their last stop. Their trip had finally come to an end, while we had another ten hours to go yet. Because of this long stop in Montreal, we arrived in Toronto the following morning at eight o’clock. This was the longest part of the trip for us. These last remaining ten hours were really the longest for us all. We were very tired, without sleep and we had had very little food. To our advantage, now we had all the space that we needed to lay down on the seats that were available. Everyone made new space trying to get new energy, so that we would look decent to our relatives when we would reach Toronto.

  As I said, this was the longest stretch and made us very upset, not knowing why the train wasn’t moving. But as we know, everything has to come to an end sometime. So, finally, the train began its trip directly to Toronto.  Early in the morning we were still coasting by that big lake which was with us till the end.

FINALLY TO TORONTO:

Toronto’s train station May 4, 1964

We arrived at Toronto’s train station, on time, as it was scheduled, on May 4, 1964. It was a beautiful sunny day, to my surprise it wasn’t as cold as I had expected. I didn’t need to wear the coat as I had in Halifax. I was one of the first ones to come out of the train station, and right way my brother Frank called me. We greeted each other, and then I went back into the station to get my luggage that Finuzza was looking after for me. Here I said goodbye to all the friends that I had encountered and went back to my brother. He was waiting for me, with a beautiful, convertible, red car; it was a 1963 Meteor Mercury.

On our way home I asked my brother to make a stop somewhere so that we could send a telegram to our father, who certainly was anxious to hear from us. So he made a stop, I don’t remember where, and we sent a telegram to our father, informing him that all was OK.

As we came out from this place I was frustrated, because I didn’t understand a single word of what he was saying in there.

Frank, Ida and Carmine Viapiana	1963 Convertible Meteor Mercury

I remember vividly, as we were headed for home, that I told my brother that I didn’t understand a single word of what he had spoken in that office. I said that English was a very hard language to learn.  Frank was very encouraging saying: “that I too, would learn in time”. He was right, because that same week I started to go to night school to learn English. (Six months later I could get by). I remember as I was contemplating the surrounding area as we drove home, I was not impressed! Especially the houses! I didn’t like them a bit. It was The East end of the City (Logan and Gerard area).  I was disappointed about all this, and said to my brother that, as soon as I would make some money, I would go back home.  While my brother, with much patience, encouraged me that I was going to get used to it, just like everybody else. (He was right!)

So, finally we got home.  I said hello to everyone, and in the afternoon some friends invited me to see a soccer game at the Varsity Stadium. My twenty years of age had recuperated all their strength in a twinkling of an eye. All of sudden I was no longer tired. My stress had vanished, and now I was at peace; my long trip was ended. Great experience! Those were the days…

And so here ends my journey, but it would not be complete if I didn’t narrate one episode that took place just the day after I arrived in Toronto.

The day after I arrived, my brother asked me to go downtown with him. He drove to Young and Bloor Street. He parked the car, and we walked on Bloor Street on the north sidewalk.  While we were walking, someone from the other sidewalk, (the South sidewalk) with a loud voice, called my name. My brother was surprised just like I was, and he said: “You are not even arrived yet, and people know you already?” This person was a friend that I had met on the boat. We spoke a little and then we went on our own way. This was the first and last time that I met a friend that had come with me on the boat; except those from my own village…

Benito Viapiana

Toronto February 2010

viapianatailor@yahoo.ca

www.viapianatailor.com

Telefono (416) 299-1872