Generations have diverse views of Olympics
Experiences of Italian families in Poe Valley mirror fears, joys of athletes
CESANA, Italy - Grandma Rosalia keeps her distance from the ballyhoo that has descended upon her town. Her son-in-law Giovanni likes drinking wine with foreigners but is angry he had to give up land to make way for a bobsled course. Grandson Luciano has big dreams the games will bring a pot of Olympic gold.
Three generations of one family in the host town for luge, skeleton and bobsled events have lived the Olympics in vastly different ways.
Their experiences mirror many of the hopes, fears, joys and disappointments of people across a valley that for two weeks has been at the center of the sporting universe. Through their kitchen conversations, an oral history emerges of Alpine peaks that saw World War II combat, a wave of emigration, a tourism boom — and now the glory of the games.
“When we were young, we were all happy, because we lived normally,” says 85-year-old Rosalia Poncet as she makes polenta on a wood-fired stove. “There were cows walking down the main road in town, it was beautiful, beautiful. ... Now nothing.”
A sprightly woman with glasses that magnify her bright blue eyes, Rosalia lives in the memories of youth: A prince on a white horse tossing candy to children, the thrill of swishing down a mountain on wooden skis after being pulled up in a sleigh, dancing in the piazza with French soldiers at the end of the war.
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Grandson Luciano Lantelme, 32, sees opportunity where Rosalia sees a threat.
“When you remember things, you remember only beautiful things and forget everything that was bad,” said Luciano, who runs a slope-side restaurant and hopes the Olympics trigger a new wave of tourism that will allow him to open a classier establishment.
“We’re too tied to tradition and need to make a leap into the future. ... If English, Scandinavians, Israelis, people from all different countries come here because of the games we’ll be able to do a great tourism trade.”
As Giovanni Lantelme pours out homemade gentian root liqueur, father and son bicker about what kind of food Luciano should serve at his restaurant.
“You should serve up old-style dishes,” Giovanni tells his son, before describing the delights of quagliette — a local dish made of cheese, potatoes, bacon, flour and eggs.
Luciano waves his hand in irritation.
“We need both,” he says, “traditional things and new things. ... We need to innovate.”
Despite sharing his mother-in-law’s fears about fading traditions, 60-year-old Giovanni is acutely aware that the old way of life farming steep, rocky plots that freeze over in winter is no longer a viable way to make a living.
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He has lived these Olympics torn between the pleasure of chatting with visitors to his country and resentment at what he sees as bullying by Olympic organizers.
“I was forced to sell my land to the state for only 50 euro centimes (about 70 cents) a square meter!” says Giovanni.
Cesana Mayor Roberto Serra said the land expropriation caused outrage among many of the town’s residents but that it was carried out under legally established standards. The low price was due to the fact that most of the terrain was steep, rocky land, he said.
Luciano also left home for opportunities abroad, working as a chef in upscale bars and restaurants in Paris and London. He was lured back by the burgeoning tourism trade at nearby ski resorts like Sestriere and Sauze d’Oulx.
He agrees with his father that organizers have been heavy-handed and says constant construction in the area has scared off tourists. Still, he believes the sacrifices will eventually pay off. “Thinking long term, it will have all been worth it,” he says.
For Rosalia, seeing the valley crisscrossed by foreigners makes her harken back to another time when the area was overrun by outsiders — during World War II, when French and Italian resistance fighters did battle with German and Italian fascist troops for control of the valley.
One of her favorite tales is how Umberto, the prince of Piedmont, would gallop down from the villa where he was staying during the war and toss caramels to the local children. She also remembers a time before chair-lifts — when horse-drawn sleighs would pull skiers up the slopes.
As the war dragged on, however, her family was forced to lodge German troops in the basement, and her brother was conscripted into military service.
A military redoubt on top of Mt. Chaberton, which overlooks Cesana, was the site of particularly fierce fighting. After the war, she recalls, “I saw all of these young men come down from the mountain, all covered in blood.”
She has fond memories of the French soldiers.
“When the French came, they stayed on for several months, and we danced in the piazza every night,” she says with a lusty chortle. “When it rained, we danced in the gymnasium. ... I must have made 50 of them fall in love with me!”
Suddenly, she starts singing in French, which many people in the valley speak because of the proximity to the border.
It’s an old dance-hall favorite that bears her name.
“Rosalie, elle est partie/Et depuis ce jour, j’ai l’mal d’amour (Rosalie, she’s departed/And since that day, I’m sick with love),” she sings, her voice cracking with nostalgia.
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