THE BOOK. History of Eliana, from Isola d'Istria to Buguggiate. When humanity beats war, hunger and cruelty – Varesenoi.it

"We were a happy family, we lived in a beautiful country on the plains and hills where everything was born, fruit, cereals, vegetables of all kinds, potatoes and lots of good grapes for the production of high quality wines, pastures, small shipyards … all surrounded by the wonderful Adriatic sea with its intense blue, which with its exquisite fish fed so many people. Without forgetting the tourism that was already very prosperous at that time ». (Island of Istria, before the Second World War)

"I close my eyes and I have before me a huge barracks called Silos, used to receive goods from merchant ships. Dirt everywhere, pitch dark, glimmer of light from too dirty windows, central chamber on the first floor, four tarpaulins with two posts fixed on the floor to form a square: this was our apartment. I had the lawns of my house and my life in front of me and now, here, I was crying and shouting "mommy I want to go home" ». (Trieste, after the war)

The story of Eliana Lucia Davanzo, gathered in the "Quaderno d'Istria" published by Macchione (purchasable oronline on Amazon, ibs and on the Feltrinelli and Mondadori websites), tells the emotions and dignity of an Istrian woman, a family, a people, a piece of humanity: missed shortly before the book's release, Eliana lives again in the notebook and in the words of her daughter Marinella Musizza and her nephew Jacopo during the evening organized in Buguggiate in the council hall where she really seemed to live a story, or rather the story, started from Isola d'Istria, arrived in Trieste and then in Buguggiate, the "ports" not of an Istrian exile, nor even of a refugee but, as she would have liked to have Lilly remembered, of a regular migrant.

"My mom's family – said her daughter Marinella – she didn't run away from Isola d'Istria. He sought and wanted permission from Marshal Tito to go to Italy, knowing that he would lose everything, home, land, affections. My mom didn't run away but she left ».

"The mother was born in Isola d'Ischia on 12 December 36 – recalled Marinella – he lived in a happy oasis with a fisher father, relatives farmers, went to school and devoted himself to the theater. Then everything changed». With the war and with something perhaps even worse, namely the reception in Trieste.

«The idea of ​​the book was born ten years ago even if when he was preparing to write some memories, Mom felt too much sadness and anguish, and finally closed the pages of the notebook. Two and a half years ago, meeting again in the refugees and in their pain, it was decided: he took a notebook and started writing».

"He told us these things not out of duty but with nostalgia – says Jacopo, one of the two grandchildren, the other is Nicolò, also present in Buguggiate – his words were imbued with a moral and family richness, with an attachment to the land almost religious. The recipes, the dialect, the landscape: it seemed to me and Nicolò sometimes and still seems to be in Isola d'Istria».

«Dear children and children, parents, teachers and nuns, Italy has entered the war: for you children it is difficult to understand all this but the Mickey Mouse film will no longer be projected. I regret it»(so Eliana, at the age of 4, learned of Italy's entry into the war on 10 June 1940).

Jacopo again: «Going through the woods and hills to Isola d'Istria (there was already the war) and looking for pine cones to light the fire, once the grandmother's brother, Eli, found a wounded Serbian soldier, Enemy of the Germans for whom my great-grandfather Bepi worked. While two Germans were having dinner at home, they kept the Serbian soldier to be hid in a room, because his great-grandmother said: he too is our brother. Having removed the bullet and healed the guest, my grandmother's big brother accompanied him to the border ».

"Dear Notebook – Eliana writes, remembering the period in Istria – cigarettes kept Dad company when he embarked to go fishing. One day he didn't have any more, I slipped out of the house even though there was a curfew and I found myself in front of two big men who grabbed the rifles and said "Aktung!"». At that point Eliana took the two German soldiers by the hand and let her take the cigarettes …

The hunger and cruelty of war were nothing compared to the humiliations and pains that Eliana and her family would have experienced in the years following Trieste. Being Istrians meant nothing more, "neither when they lived at home, nor at Trieste". "The Istrians are treated by Tito as fascists and, in Italy, as plague victims or communists" (Giorgio Delodovici, master of science in historical sciences, present at the Buguggiate evening).

"We arrived at the border guarded by the Anglo-Americans, who looked at us with compassion – writes Eliana – "Are you hungry?" they asked. "Also thirsty," said my mother. Suddenly the soldiers brought sandwiches with a slightly salted yellow cheese, but that was fine. They gave us fresh orange juice to drink, then each of us gave us a bar of chocolate. Admired I thanked them ».

They went to Trieste with hope ("I feel like nobody's daughter") but that experience was worse than the previous one. And the sadness came, the bitterness for having lost both beyond and here: having lost the land, lost hope in the Trieste Silos that "welcomed" Eliana's family.

«I close my eyes and I have before me a huge barrack called Silos which was once used to receive goods from merchant ships, a huge warehouse of three floors now out of order. The dirt was everywhere, it was pitch black, there was only a glimmer of light in the windows as they were too dirty. They found us on the first floor in a central chamber, they gave us four tarpaulins with stakes fixed on the floor to form a square: this was our apartment. We went to wash our hands and face, it is difficult to describe the sinks and toilets that should have been used for many, many people. It was all disgusting. I had the lawns in front of me, my house, my life, and after so many years of danger this was the first time I cried desperately. I was shouting "mom, I want to go home" but she couldn't answer me, this time she couldn't find the right words ».

"Nonna Lilly went shopping in Trieste – recalls Jacopo – and once, entering a bakery where some high-ranking ladies were present, she was insulted in the Trieste dialect. The meaning was: what do you do here, no one gives you charity. The bakers, also from Trieste, but with a heart, defended Lilly by giving her the bread and bringing out the "ladies" ».

«In this notebook it affects the freshness of language, the levity of a child and lucidity with which Eliana describes the facts as if they had happened one day, and not seventy years before "(Angela Borghi, councilor and moderator of the meeting in Buguggiate).

"Once again I asked Mom: was it really necessary to leave our country and come to a place where no one accepts us?"question of Eliana read by Dante Melito, the playwright who interpreted some passages of the notebook).

In the cover photo you can see Eliana (the first on the left) and four friends in the silos of Trieste with the flags of Fiume, Trieste, Italia, Istria and Zara ready and happy before playing a theatrical representation, symbol of union and brotherhood. Once on stage, when the audience understands their origin (they all came from Isola d'Istria or Pula), reacts with whistles and insults by blasting the show.

"I close this meeting also full of sadness and anger with a smile – Jacopo said at the end, in the most exciting and unforgettable moment of the evening – man can be ruthless but can also give hope and a sense of suffering. Lilly was struck by pneumonia at the age of 4 as a diagnostic the doctor of the Germans that the visit at the request of the father who works for them. The priest had already been called for his last farewell. But there was a distant way out: the penicillin bites in the possession of the Americans. A boat with the emblem of the Red Cross sails towards the flagship of the allies: the soldiers are sympathetic and provide a case of medicines with penicillin bites. Within a few weeks Lilly recovers. Hope is in the same humanity that sometimes seems to deny it. My grandmother recovered, arrived in Trieste, then in Buguggiate, gave birth to her mother and all of us who are now here reading her notebook. Thanks to that penicillin ».

Matteo Sambo, mayor of Buguggiate, he used very beautiful words in a packed room (life and truth still fill the heart of this commune and of the world): "I'm excited because Mrs. Davanzo had come together last summer to ask us to be able to present this book, then in early September it was missed. We have our daughter and grandchildren here, but I think she's here too. "

Pietro Macchione, the publisher: «Memory is life lived and experience to be handed down. This book lives on memory: I chose the cover photo, it's a bit ruined but I didn't touch it up because it was real and it was understood that it comes from far away. You see a little girl with that smile and that nerve that I really found in her when I met her. In order to resist all that Eliana has experienced, you must have just that nerve and that awareness».

Giorgio Delodovici (master of science in historical sciences): «The notebook tells two stories, the first of Eliana as a child in Isola d'Istria, with the announcement of Italy's entry into World War II. The second with the liberation of Istria by the Anglo-Americans and Yugoslav communists. I quote Eliana from the second part of the book: "Being Istrians did not mean anything, we were simply Italians and fascists for Yugoslavia"».

Istrian notebook of Eliana Lucia Davanzo, Macchione Editore, 15 euros. Online on Amazon, ibs and on the websites of Feltrinelli and Mondadori.

«My name is Eliana Lucia Davanzo, I was born in Isola d'Istria, a wonderful town, surrounded by green hills, flower-filled fields and the intense blue of the Adriatic Sea. Due to the succession of tragic events, the 2nd World War with the German occupation and the post-war period with the transfer of those territories to Yugoslavia, Istria and Dalmatia were forgotten not only from Italy but also from Trieste.

The war had ceased, but for us Istrians and Dalmatians began another war, much more painful, that of indifference, of abandonment; day after day we suffered insults, insults.

In 1948 with great regret we left our land to return to Trieste. There awaited us a barrack called "silos" and here we remained for six interminable and suffering years in an environment to say the least crumbling.

After much suffering, serenity finally arrived: now I live with my husband, also from Istria, in Buguggiate, a beautiful town in the province of Varese, surrounded by the love of the family and of two splendid grandchildren ».