A Foot on Each Side of the World Gilda Gaita's Story of Transnationalism

Zia. To some, that word means nothing. But in Italian, Zia translates to aunt. To me it is a representation of my heritage, my culture, and the traditions that have been passed down to me for generations.

Gilda Gaita is my Zia. She taught me basic Italian, how to make pasta from scratch, and the importance of keeping Italian culture alive in America. She is one of the greatest women I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And I have the privilege of telling her story.

Gilda Giata, in Avellino, Italy.

Born Gilda Pisacreta March 9, 1933; she grew up with her older sister, Pasqualina, and brother, (my grandfather) Michele. They grew up on their family farm in the outskirts of Avellino, Italy; it is about 40 minutes outside of Naples. On the farm they cultivated wine, amongst other things.

Transportation in Avellino was bad during the 1930s and 40s, but the family wanted Gilda to be educated, so every morning she would walk an hour to get to school and then at the end of the day she would do that same hour walk to get home. However, she did not go to just any school. They did not teach math and biology, but rather how to cook and clean and sow; basically what every woman needs to know to be a good housewife.

Upon getting home at the end of the day, she would help her mother run the family farm and help keep up with the housework.

“Back then, we didn’t have a car. There were no trains to get to Avellino City; if we wanted to go anywhere, we walked.” – Gilda

After meeting her husband, Antonio, the two moved to Rome and started their family. He worked on the police force in Rome, and she stayed home to raise their two daughters, Carla (my godmother) and Marina.

The girls on the boat coming to America. They brought with them, my grandfather’s hunting dog.

In 1965, the changing political climate began to cause changes in the Italian police force. The family became worried about the possibilities of Antonio losing his job. The couple decided it was time they moved their family to New York, but for Gilda it was not the easiest decision. “Italy was my home, it will always be my home.”

Gilda’s brother had moved to New York years prior, and began growing his own family, so they knew of the greater opportunities that lied ahead for them in America. The family knew it would be work, but they also knew they could do it. Wanting a better life for her own family, and a need to be closer to her brother, led Gilda to pack up her family and jump on a boat to New York.

At the time, Carla was 11 years old and Marina was 8. The family moved into a house in Greenwood, Brooklyn. The girls spent their weekends attending a private school to learn the language and culture, and getting to know their cousins that were born in Brooklyn, my Uncle Vinny and my father. Because they were always around each other, the girls became the sisters my father and uncle never had.

“Little Butchie [her nickname for my father] was like a real life baby doll to me and my sister.” -Carla

While adjusting to life in America was relatively easy for her daughters, thanks to their newfound family and adaptability as children, Gilda and Antonio had a harder time. She worked two jobs as a dressmaker, and he got a job in the mailroom of Merrill Lynch on Wall Street.

The couple went to school every night to learn English. They tried as best they could to assimilate to life here in America, but adjusting to the fast-pace New York life was still a struggle.

“I was able to meet people like me.” -Gilda

Gilda says her local church in Brooklyn, Our Lady of Guadalupe, helped her adjust better to life in Brooklyn. She was able to get involved in her community, and meet people in the neighborhood that also came in from the same region in Italy. The religion she held close to her heart while in Italy, gave her a safe haven in Brooklyn.

When she speaks of Italy, she reminises with a heavy heart. She thinks of the place she grew up with love, and when she talks of what she misses, she often talks of the food. When we sit around the table, she looks to what she has baked for dessert and tells me how was better in Avelino. There, her oven was outside so it got hotter than the ovens here in America, so she was able to cook differently.

She also told me that she misses how natural all the food was there. Because she lived on the farm in Avelino, they grew everything they ate. “Everything was natural, it tasted better. I miss that.”

Gilda, Marina, Carla, and Antonio. Celebrating his 91st birthday.

Her and her family were able to assimilate, to an extent, but they still kept alive many traditions from the “Old Country” to this day. She still makes her own wine, and every year the family gets together to make the sauce for the year. She is still very much dedicated to Our Lady of Guadalupe, she attends mass there every Sunday and participates in many of the other functions they hold, including a traditional Italian Carnevale celebration, which she calls “A cross between Mardi Gras and Halloween.” She describes making her daughters’ costumes for Carnevale as some of her fondest memories. For her it was more than just any holiday, it was another piece of Italy that she got to take to New York with her.

Now, Gilda, Antonio, and Carla all have dual citizenship. Marina moved back to Rome where she is a single mother raising her three daughters: Gulia, Elena, and Chiara. Gilda and Antonio recently celebrated their 60^th wedding anniversary at their favorite restaurant on 18^th avenue, steps away from their home in Bensonhurst. Gilda has gone back to Italy to visit her daughter and granddaughters many times, however now in her old age it is difficult for her to travel overseas.

When I told her I had plans to travel to Italy her eyes glowed brighter than I’d ever seen before. She was so excited that I would be able to see the beautiful country that she still considers home.