Entertainments and foods of a bygone era

When I was small, back in the '50s, I played with my cousins, my brother, and my schoolmates, and we didn't have cell phones, smartphones, tablets, or any other such devices.

We played with glass marbles, with padded caps from beer bottles, and with the little cars we found in boxes of detergent. It was a joy when dad would skillfully carve out a piece of bark from a pine tree and then, trimming the edges of the bark, crafted two little boats with a hole in the middle to insert a small wooden twig "in struncu", to which he attached a piece of paper used as a sail, and we would sail them in the well above the house in Inutuvu.

In the afternoon, no snacks or soft drinks, but just a piece of bread with a drizzle of oil, which went "fin in s'e e unge d'i pei" (right down to the toenails), and the "aiga brüta" that Grandma Consolata so named because she made it using the leftover "bratta" from the chicory, with the addition of warm water and the juice of a lemon.

In the evening, no TV, no computers, but just a book to read under the faint light of an oil lamp, after having dined on the minestrone I prepared myself (I even put pickled olives in it). The menu I prepared was always the same: for starters, minestrone; for the main course, minestrone; and for dessert, minestrone (if there was any left).

Throughout the day, when we were thirsty, we drank water that we fetched with flasks from the "funtana di ursi" (the males of my family were called "bears") or the "funtana di carbui", free of energizing additives or various vitamins.

We often got dirty playing or working, which is why we more willingly went barefoot. In the summer, mom Cisa often called me "mae brüte" (dirty hands), and I often wondered why she didn't look at my feet a bit.

We, born in the immediate post-war period or a few decades later, were without the internet, so we didn't learn about events until much later, unable to ask "Google" everything we wanted to know; I remember the day when a schoolmate in Bordighera called me a 'warthog'! I kept quiet, then went home to look up the meaning of that word in the encyclopedia, and the next morning I waited for him at the entrance of the school and punched him hard in the face shouting: "You will never call me a warthog again!" And so it was.

When I didn't go to school, at lunchtime, I heard my grandmother calling everyone by blowing into the "lümassa", a sea shell that emitted a deep sound, but which was heard from far away.

Well, if what I have written so far were read by a boy or girl, which I unfortunately consider unlikely, they would surely wonder what world we lived in at that time! And to think I'm talking about just 60 years ago!

We all observed an unspoken rule: "desbrögliasse", meaning 'to manage on one's own'. Unfortunately, today's youth and children no longer know this verb, which I believe is fundamental for success in life.

And in this way, we "old folks" have grown up over time, and I also a fool, but certainly all healthy in mind and body....

And this time it is up to the young to reflect, not us....

Riccardo Lanteri