Diary from L'Aquila

This morning, 15 April, I drove back to L'Aquila, to feed my cats, aquarium fish and other stray animals around. At the ground floor of my house in the days after 6 april I had organized a kind of headquarters, with supplies, computer, TV and a toilet. My husband's younger brother has moved there, and his cousin as well. They do not have children, did not need to leave the city. I found Paolo checking the earthquake shakes on the official INGV site and next to him a bird cage with two fine, intelligent-looking parrots.

Paolo (Facebook page), my husband's cousin, is an artist and creator of fine jewels. For decades he felt he should search for his fortune and career elsewhere, but his roots kept clutching his ankle. His father, a gifted painter, died of leukemia at 42. His father's mother had died in WW2 bombings, saving the youngest son's life with the shield of her body. His father's elder sister lost her life this 6 april under the ruins of her house in the centre of L'Aquila.

The morning after the earthquake, Paolo started his personal via crucis from the courtyard of his house in the suburbs to the downtown, where on the fourth floor of an old palace he had all his job. He kept taking pictures, as he walked uphill, passing through the villa and Piazzale Paoli, where the street had created a crater, where a silent row of survivors covered with blankets were sitting along the benches of a children's play area, silently staring. He continued walking to the centre, to Piazza della Repubblica (which we still call Piazza della Prefettura) where the majestic Palazzo del Governo was disseminated all over, leaving open to the eyes the inside of the church of Sant'Agostino, surprised in her sleep, an ancient lady with her skirt torn and naked body pitilessly offered to the sight of passers-by.

Paolo recalls that at the view of the proud palace he abandoned every hope for his workshop, and started his way back. He would return 2 days later, accompanied by firemen, to salvage what was possible to take. And forgetting about other important tools of his craft, he took the most precious things that had survived, the two colorful little parrots still living, though being without water and food for two days.

Paolo has written on his Facebook page:
"From the ruins, the nothingness and silence of these days we have been given the chance to rediscover new certainties, maybe the most true. This process is not a dream, but can turn into the beginning of a change of our reality, a necessary change to increase our awareness, we ourselves will be the first to be surprised by the magic of what we will be able to experiment, to share, to achieve."