Picture a cave, complete with a vault and yellowed walls. Inside, a single room with a small table, a double bed and a bunk bed. And there, imagine three brothers living together.
“Excuse me,” I said, “but where is the bathroom?”
“Outside, Dottoré.”
“And the three of you live here?”
“Of course. This is our house. Mom and Dad raised six children here.”
“But couldn’t you rent a bigger and brighter house? It’s humid here, it’s bad for you!”
“Humid? No, no, the air is gray because of cigarette smoke. And during the day it’s full of sunlight — in the summer it gets really hot!”
“You could put an air conditioner on, at least!”
“We did, but then it stopped working because of the smoke.”
Home sweet home
At a certain point I looked at the three brothers’ faces. God knows what history of deprivation and suffering they carried with them. Their place was in a shocking state.
But for them it was home, and I could hints of mockery in their answers.
This place belonged to them, it was their world.
Who am I to be horrified by poverty while I have no means to offer relief, no alternative to show these people?
The state to the rescue
On my way back to the hospital, caught up in my own dilemmas, I noticed unusual movements from a number of law enforcement officials.
I asked what was going on, and was told that they were preparing for arrivals from Rome.
I then looked it up online and read something that calmed me down — an epiphany of sorts, an answer to my worries. “Tomorrow, Prime Minister Mario Draghi and Interior Minister Luciana Lamorgese will be in Naples. It sends a strong message that the State is present.”
Now that I know this, I can go home in peace …
Learn more about Worldcrunch’s exclusive Dottoré! series here.
