E’ arrivato il momento di raccontare la storia degli italiani d’Eritrea, mai giunta al grande pubblico o sui giornali, se non per il fatto che eravamo considerati tutti colonialisti, fascisti e criminali. Anche noti storici ci dipingevano in questo modo ma noi siamo stati un altra cosa, che cercherò di descrivere iniziando da qui, perchè si sappia che abbiamo fatto parte di una storia volutamente…
Correva l’anno 1973, riuniti con tutta la famiglia in Asmara. Era febbraio, con un sole splendente in un cielo terso e azzurro. Padre Ruffino organizza una festa nei saloni dell’Oratorio, circondato da Boy Scout con le suore che servivano “mezè” sulla lunga improvvisata tavolata.
ISCRIVITI AL CANALE TELEGRAM “ITALIA COLONIALE” PER RICEVERE TUTTI GLI AGGIORNAMENTI
In fondo ero stato uno dei…
C’è stato per noi il tempo della follia, con i polmoni che a 2400 metri scoppiavano ma alla bici non ci si rinunciava. Forse non lo sapete ma noi asmarini, quelli nativi, avevamo i polmoni più grandi degli abitanti delle pianure a causa dell’aria rarefatta di quelle altezze da capogiro. Con l’allenamento potevamo percorrere centinaia di chilometri. Bici in Asmara che passione, non solo per…
Asmara. Alla ricerca di un "io" perduto, non per dimenticare ma per raccontare
Asmara. Alla ricerca di un “io” perduto, non per dimenticare ma per raccontare
A chi lasceremo la nostra eredità di ricordi di una vita passata in Eritrea ed Etiopia? E’ tempo di tirare le somme tra quelli che sono nati negli anni 40 sino al 1975. Vedo uomini e donne carichi di anni che si recano in Asmara per rivederla un ultima volta. Li vedo mentre fanno la prima tappa a quella che fu casa loro che sembra ancora la stessa di sempre ma è solo una illusione. Li vedo con…
L’Italia che approda in Eritrea nel 1882, appena ventuno anni dopo l’unificazione, è un paese profondamente diviso, un mosaico di tradizioni e culture che si sarebbero amalgamate a fatica nei decenni successivi. Tale divisione si rifletteva inevitabilmente anche nella lingua, data la presenza di numerosissimi dialetti regionali che spesso raggiungevano livelli di incomprensibilità soprattutto tra…
It was a boring day in Barcelona and all Hanina could do was remember how she first met Sergi while holding his hand.
Hanina was walking down Barcelona’s sidewalk when she saw a big group of girls running towards her. At first, she didn’t know why they were running—or what they were chasing—until that thing bumped into her.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” He said in a deep voice. Hanina raised her head and found Sergi Roberto looking intently but impatiently at her.
“It’s—” She started saying.
“Sorry, I’m gonna have to cut you out.” Sergi told her, grabbing hold of her hand and tugging her in the opposite direction of the running girls. “Come on, run with me.” His voice was anxious as they started running.
Hanina was dragged behind him. Something in her mind was telling her that that was not a wise thing to be doing, but the other part was just excited to be running with him away from chasing girls. Why? Hanina wondered. Why was she excited, she’d just met the guy not a minute ago.
Still, she wasn’t stopping or protesting.
Sergi did a sharp turn left and they ran along a street with boutiques on both sides. “This should do.” She heard him mutter before tugging them both into a dress shop.
“Hello, can I help you with something?” A sales-lady said as they walked in.
“Can we use your dressing room?” Sergi asked quickly. “And if any girl comes asking for a Sergi Roberto, please just say you haven’t seen him.”
The girl nodded and then Sergi and Hanina walked—more like Sergi dragged Hanina—to an empty dressing room. He closed the door behind them and leaned on it.
Hanina by now was a bit weirded out by the whole scene. She’d just run away with a complete stranger.
Sergi noticed that this girl was overthinking everything and about to explode, so he asked, “What are you thinking?” in a low voice.
“This is mental.”
“Mental?” He questioned.
Hanina nodded. “Yes. I just run away with you. From a pack of rabid girls. And I don’t even know you, Sergi.”
“But you know my name.” He stated, surprised.
“Well, yes. I am a Barca fan.”
Sergi grinned. “That’s good to know. What’s your name?”
“Hanina.” She introduced herself.
“Nice to meet you, Hanina. I’m Sergi.” He said, grinning cheekily.
She cocked her head to the side, looking at him. “I thought we’d already established I knew that.” She teased.
Sergi chuckled and nodded. “You’re right.” In the close confined space, it was difficult not to stand so close to him, close enough that their breaths mingled. He opened his mouth to say something when he heard a high pitched voice from outside.
“Have you seen someone come in here?”
Sergi’s eyes widened and he placed a hand over Hanina’s mouth and another around her waist—though unnecessary. Hanina wanted to be found as much as a mouse wanted to be chased by a cat.
“No, I’m sorry. Nobody’s come in here in half an hour.” The same sales-lady Sergi had talked to before said.
“Are you sure, though? I think I saw him walking in with someone in here?” The girl insisted.
“No, it must have been the store next door.”
“Okay.” The girl sounded dejected. “Thank you. Bye.”
When they heard the door close, Sergi took his hand out of Hanina’s mouth and sighed. “Thank God.” He whispered.
Hanina rolled her eyes.
“Sorry I dragged you into this.” Sergi apologized.
“Why did you, anyway?” She asked
“Drag you here?” He asked. Hanina nodded. “Because I wanted to apologize for bumping into you and I figured if I ran away I never would’ve seen you again. Plus, you’re kinda cute.”
She blushed a deep red, spreading through her cheeks and neck. Sergi chuckled and rubbed a hand through the back of his neck.
“I should get going.” Hanina said quickly when the awkward silence became ear-deafening. She opened the door and walked out.
Sergi followed her, not wanting to let her go that easily. “Hanina, wait.” He grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“What?” She looked at him.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sergi. It’s fine. A fun twist to me otherwise boring day.” Hanina smiled. “I really have to go, though. It was nice meeting you.” She said quickly and left, the door closing behind her with a resounding thud.
“Nice meeting you too.” Sergi said, though nobody was there to hear him.
Hanina could still remember the way Sergi had smiled at her, the way he’d covered her mouth, the way his skin had felt against her. Every day she regretted walking away just like that; what would’ve happened if she’d stayed for a minute or two more?
