Ida was my aunt. One of those aunts that fry everything and always give you something to eat. An aunt-mother. He wore a delicatessen and an aroma of fresh bread.
Pacific was also my uncle. He was true to its name. Mite. Shadow. I've seen recently.
Another uncle was Salvador, minute carpenter who had calloused hands and a quiet shyness. I just saw him too.
Mr. John, but I saw him once: he was the father of a dear friend and gave me the feeling of a strong and protective man. A little 'as Dr. Vincent, who I had in front of the benches of the City Council a decade ago. Rifondazione I, An him. Clashes beautiful content. Knowing smile. Respect for those who still have a value.
Ida, Pacific, Salvatore, Giovanni, Vincenzo have two things in common.
The first is that, in one way or another, have crossed my path.
The second is that these days have died of cancer. In a few months. They found the monkey rank from a stomach ache. " I feel disturbed, I have stomach pain, I'm not going to eat today .
Three weeks later they were underground.
There are private emotions in these stories: memories, words and photographs. Then there are emotions widened: the fear that could happen to others, the horror of being consumed in a flash. Then there is a suggestion of all: the tumor in the area north of Naples. Liver and lungs, the worst. There are studies showing that in some areas of Campania, in recent years, cancer has exploded like an epidemic. Higher rates than elsewhere in Italy. But even these figures do not say it all, at least for Giugliano.
If in three months, I lost three uncles (young people, all under 70 years) and two acquaintances, with the same disease and the same, lightning, and so all grown up and Mugnano Marano, if the limited circle of my friends and family has such a high percentage of deaths with fulminant liver cancer and lung cancer, what is sucking in other families of this area?
would be interesting to go and comb through and analyze scientific data, new ones in recent years. If it is granted to someone to make a really serious test. Now we are deprived of the opportunity to engage in any reasoning on the subject of waste. If you say a word, you branded as irresponsible, if you say two, you're protecting your garden, if you say three, you have interest to be covered, if you say four, the system will send him newspaper reporter, if you say five , take you to the police station.
But the confusion remains. They have militarized sites for landfill, are asbestos and bury him militarily, have left whole pieces of territory to the Camorra crime and, allowed the purulent infection of the plot between myopic individual and collective the minimum payment of interests and big. The Camorra has bought land to put toxic paints in the north, the generals arrive today, open dumps on the same land, we deposited the same toxic paints, legalization, and we say "where were you?" Without explaining where were they, with the badges and tanks. The farmers, possibly the same people who protest today, the fields are irrigated with leachate and brought us fruit and vegetables at the table, selling trucks that run on reassuring for the countries and I'll break the illusion of authenticity. "I come from China, is our stuff," say the voices from the megaphone of treruote.
We, meanwhile, we count the dead. And die each
days of pain to stay here. Powerless. To consumers in a new tumor, that to heart.
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