Sapri and CApri and the changing of names...

It did not seem too complicated to finally go to Sapri and find the graves of some long dead Rocco's. Information from the family said that our ancestors immigrated from Sapri to Rio in the late 1800. So,early one Saturday, we took the bus down to Positano, the fast ferry to Salerno and boarded the train heading for Sapri. A direct train with only two stops between Salerno and Sapri, about 100 kilometer journey, was cancelled and so we slowly wound our way south from the coast to the mountains to the coast to the mountains and though tunnels and to the coast again and then up into the mountains and finally after about 25 stops and close to 4 hours we arrived.

Sapri sits right on the Tyrranhean Sea and is a super cute, beach town untouched by international tourism. We arrived in the dead of siesta, starving BUT thought we had better get to the graveyard before dusk or closing time. The cab driver was surprised at foreigners, right off the train, wanting to go to a graveyard, he was, for some reason, unsure about taking us. It did not take long to realize that we would be spending the night in Sapri, since the graveyard closed at 4PM.

I was sold on the Piscane Hotel where every floor has gorgeous tiles. Ours was the blue floor and then there was the green floor. The room was fantastic but we wished for a change of clothes. Our host advised us of the best pizza in town at the PizzaHouse, which I doubt we would have ever chosen. It was Saturday night and there was a line up, but locals assured us that it was worth the wait; and sure enough the Calabrese pizza that Yvonne ordered was the best pizza we had in Italy. It was the usual excellent crust with celery, caramelized onions maybe some spicy sausage and cheese. Who knew how good celery could be on pizza.

The next morning we had our host call us a cab to take us to the graveyard. That same old cab driver appeared and took us about 4 km out of town. We engaged the workers assistance in finding any Rocco's grave but the name Rocco did not appear on any gravestones. Well, sometimes as a first name. I can safely say that there are NO Roccos buried in the Sapri graveyard. So where are the Roccos from? As we made our way back to Nocelle that day we pondered possible scenarios:

-We were in the wrong town and the Roccos were really from....?????

- Perhaps the lack of alive Roccos to tend to the grave with flowers and offerings and regular visits allowed for the plot to be sold to a more attentive family.

- Surely my ancestors hail from southern Italy because more people in Naples and Salerno, than I have seen anywhere else in the world, could pass as my relations.

-Rocco is a tough guy and a name that might be very convenient for a new immigrant in a new land; especially if your name happened to be something unpronounceable and unspeakable in Portuguese.

-Rocco is actually NOT a common (or even on the list) of popular Italian surnames. Last names were usually developed by adding Di to your father's first name or else created from a nickname.

-Somewhere along the line our ancestors changed their name. Maybe once they left Sapri.

-Perhaps they just went by their first name Rocco, like Prince or Ferron.

I hope we can get further information on this mystery from the Brazilian Roccos who we are to visit later in our trip.

AND then there is CApri....

The following Tuesday was a superb day with calm seas and so we went with Peter, Genero's son, to CApri.

CApri is a beautiful island community that one can endlessly wander.It is nothing like Sapri. Some very lucrative tourist traps engaged the many visitors. Gondolas filled with about 30 people go in and out of the blue grotto at 10 euros a pop. You can wait hours on land or in your boat for your turn to spend 3 minutes in the blue grotto. We opted against this and instead Peter took our boat to the green grotto, much like the blue grotto except not famous nor overrun with tourists and boats, and we swam into another large grotto which reminded me of the caves we swam to at Mourou Beach on Amorgos. We sailed around the island and then had a stop so we could explore CApri.

We took the funicular up to Capri town and wandered away from the famous square where famous people are supposed to gather, but I had the feeling that the famous people had long ago found greener pastures and we were a couple of decades late if we wanted to spot the idle rich. We found our, out of the way terrace that Yvonne had discovered on-line, lunched and headed back to our boat. There is a beautiful flying horses mural in the funicular station.

About 20 passengers were on our trip. We decided to get acquainted with A and Z two gay men from Israel. They were celebrating their engagement and were very happy. over prosecco and beer, we exchanged life histories and stories and spent a great afternoon in their company. As it turns out A , a Palestinian and Z, a Zionist jew from the USA were both involved in peace and justice work. A's family had recently found out he was gay (it took us about 30 seconds to realize this but seemingly they did not know) and just days earlier had shunned him, burning photos, all his belongings and now consider him dead. We were sad for A, such a lovely guy who wouldn't want him in your family? A had taken this all in stride though deciding it was time to change his name to a very snappy and sexy Italian name. So, Antonio was creating a new identity.

So what is in a name? Do you think anyone has ever arrived in Sapri after thinking the were heading for Capri? One letter can make all the difference. There can be countless reason to change your name.