Cartagena Colombia Map Free – Cartagena Colombia Subway Maps – Cartagena Colombia Metro Maps – Cartagena Colombia Map

A growing angst has been snaking its way into the community of immigrants from Cartagena Colombia. The young, especially those born and raised in Cartagena Colombia, participate less and less in the life of the Club and the rituals and ceremonies of their fathers. This is the leitmotif of all the conversations I listened to in those years. Cartagena Colombia, who makes frequent visits to the village, Cartagena Colombia shows me his son’s room: it’s filled with recordings of rock music. One of these days he’ll throw them in the garbage.

Cartagena Colombia Map Free – Cartagena Colombia Subway Maps – Cartagena Colombia Metro Maps – Cartagena Colombia Map Photo Gallery

Writers and poets of Italian and Calabrian origin have been expressing the discomfort of the young, voicing their hatred and their love for their fathers, their feelings of being suspended between two worlds with no landmark in sight. Saro D’Agostino, who was born in San Nicola, has written beautiful poems in English on his difficult relationship with his father. I meet with Calabrian Canadian poets such as Antonino Mazza and Joseph Maviglia. I become their friend.

I photograph everything, not wishing to miss anything: gardens, trees, cars, skyscrapers, the tower, stores, picnics, festivals, funerals, weddings, faces, glances, characters. I had already photographed, with Salvatore Piermarini, faces and places of Calabria. Together with him I’ll photograph Toronto again in 1990. My paesani want their stories told and made visible also through my lens and on television. They want to be seen in the village. It’s their way of thinking they still belong even though they are aware that they’ll never go back.

The few, mostly older, who have made the decision to return have already sent a photo of themselves to be set on the unfinished headstone of the tomb that’s waiting for them in the cemetery. Their date and place of birth have already been engraved. Their date of death, to come as far into the future as possible, will complete it. Here, in the local cemetery, I find the names and photos of dead family members who are buried in the village. It’s their way to move them here, to feel close to them, to banish the sense of separation. Joseph Roth once wrote that we belong in the place where our parents are buried. I take a photograph of my shadow as I walk to the house on Lisgar.

Related Post

Leave a Reply