02. Piazza Marconi – The traditions
Vallebona was once a very lively village where traditions were maintained more than elsewhere. Families were linked by a strong community spirit, but now it is no longer like that. The traditions that we shared, which made us feel united, have been lost.
It was so beautiful, we all sang, kids and the elderly, you could not feel the generational difference. There was an important brotherhood.
The bonfire tradition was also an excuse to be together old and young, to play around the fire. We gathered around the fire and the elders recounted their life stories. Community life was so heartfelt, it was really beautiful. There was a time when it was delightful to listen to the elders. For us kids, the elders were our television with their stories and their tales. We listened to them mouths wide open and we rushed when an elder said, “Go buy me tobacco,” we argued who would get to do him this service. There was a great sense of respect. It was unthinkable to spite an elderly person, never!
The bonfire drew us together, you would see young men take a stone to sit on it in a circle, and maybe even joined by people who never stopped before, as the fire was like an invitation to which you could not say no.
The Befana tradition was born in one of those evenings. One night, we were around the foegu du Bambin (a traditional bonfire lit in the main square on Christmas Eve) joking, laughing and we came up with the idea to nail four wooden boards together, dress them up, put a wig on top, and there you had it: the Befana! (In Italian folklore and folk customs, the Befana is a witch-like old woman who delivers gifts to children throughout Italy on Epiphany Eve in a similar way to Santa Claus.) We took her around the village and then burned her in the fire. Since then, it has become a tradition that remains to this day.
There was the habit of staying up late together. We used to go to the square for an hour or even longer, there were many of us, and we chatted. It was nice because we were always all together and then… the television arrived. The late nights together ended. We stopped going out.
As kids, we went dancing in Bordighera and back to Vallebona, in the evening around eleven, we waited for everyone in the square and until the last of us returned we didn’t go to sleep because everyone had to tell their own adventure.
When newlyweds returned from their honeymoon, we would sing in front of their house so that they would come out to celebrate with us, sharing a bottle of wine, sweets, etc. If they didn’t come outside, we tried three or four more times.
When two widowers got married, we did the ciaravuglio: with buckets and bins, we made a big racket that continued until they came outside. Lots of laughter and so much fun!
“The wild night” was also a wonderful party born from the songs to newlyweds. Thousands of people arrived for this celebration, the doors of the village had to be closed.
At the parties of the little churches in the countryside — San Bernardo, San Bastia’, Madona du Carmu, Madona da Neve — the whole village would participate. They arrived with mules loaded with food and drinks, there was a band and we all ate together. It was a party.
Once there was the “cria” tradition: an old man would pass through the village playing three trumpet blasts and crying “Avertu!” to announce himself. He was a village crier and during the orange blossom or olive harvests he would shout out the prices offered by the various buyers so that sellers knew who was willing to pay more and who to sell to.
The great value of the community was our being together. But now there is loneliness. We are all a little more alone. We used to hug each other more. Even hugs are important, and now we miss them.
