Entry 56: A Chat with Salvatore Moschilla - Na Chiaccarata cu Sarvu Moschilla
Locations: Australia and Calabria
Date: 27 February 2025
After numerous unsuccessful attempts, a computer folder titled "Nonno Moschilla" was quickly filling up with pages of self-rejected drafts. In an entry where he was the singular focus, my challenge was how to portray him in a manner that best reflected his authentic character. At his core, Salvatore Francesco Moschilla was a courageous risk taker, prepared to make difficult decisions with the foresight of how his choices would benefit the future well-being of his wife Concetta and their eight children – often at the cost of significant personal sacrifices. A most notable one, was enduring nearly a decade of separation from his family, who remained in Italy while he laboured in Australia to establish a solid foundation for them.
The realisation eventually became clear, that no matter how the story of Salvatore was approached, some degree of failure was inevitable. Without his presence, important aspects of his life vanished with him, making it impossible to fully capture the strength and complexity of this tough, highly respected man. The only option was to accept this, and be satisfied with the partial collection of remaining fragments.
However, the process of exploring the fragments of his life was hindered by Nonno himself. He continually distracted me with relentless nudges, always guiding me towards his persona of an elderly man. To explain more clearly what I mean by this, whenever he came into my mind, he was seated at the kitchen table in his Osborne Park home with an espresso cup and a bottle of Scotch whisky in front of him, while his chunky hands shuffled a pack of cards as he prepared for a game of ‘Briscula’. To the left of him, against the wall, the ‘aspressa du café’ sat on the hot stovetop, gurgling and releasing delightful aromas to signal the coffee was ready to be poured. But each time this image crossed my mind, I continued to dismiss the idea of using it in my introductory post about Salvatore - the symbols of coffee, alcohol and cards were too humble, too insufficient to represent a great man. There’s no doubt they were all significant, they were just more meaningful towards the later, elderly stages of his life.
Salvatore was richly rewarded for his numerous sacrifices with the well-deserved and priceless gifts of a sharp mind, an impressive memory of his youth and a longevity spanning nearly a century. He lived for 98 years and witnessed first-hand through his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren the legacy he built, centred on family and a resilience to fulfil what initially might have seemed unachievable hopes and dreams. With many accomplishments during this expansive time span, I was determined to find “something” to symbolise the vigour and adventurous pioneering spirit of a young man. Surely, after overcoming extreme challenges in the selfless pursuit of a better life, he deserved to be represented and celebrated by something more dynamic and substantial than an espresso coffee. My hesitation with the kitchen scenario was justified; confident in my decision, it was obvious that nonno was steering me in the wrong direction.
In the quest for "something" unique, "something" special, the search for a more powerful image to better portray Salvatore continued ... and continued, yet remained undiscovered. I found myself stuck, fighting a losing battle. Several possibilities were considered, but in the end, they also didn't feel right. Meanwhile, nonno persisted. He patiently remained seated at the table as if saying, “Let me know when you've finished looking. You’ll find me waiting right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Stubborn and inflexible, he dictated his own terms, leaving me no choice but to work with the vivid kitchen scenario, through which I finally understood the message he was so determined to express.
In the comfort of his home, Salvatore is in the ideal place to look back and reflect on his long and extraordinary life. Always welcoming, he invites us to sit down at the kitchen table, to join him and keep him company. He mentions that his wife Concetta has poured us an espresso coffee, to which she added a splash of Scotch for a hit of extra flavour. He wishes to spend some time together and chat, eager to share a few stories about his life. He has waited a long time for this, and will start with something we probably don't know about him: In Siderno, as a vibrant 37-year-old man, he was the registered keeper of a stud bull named Baggiano, used for the sole purpose of breeding ...
This, and other small fragments of Salvatore’s life will be explored in depth in upcoming posts, but for now, to conclude, it's only fitting to let him have the final word. In his own dialect, the message he wished to share at the kitchen table essentially translates to:
A Cuncia ndi fici nu café cu nu pocu i scocci ndu mbivimu. Ssettiti cca, accusi ndi facimu na chiaccarata e passamu nu poco i tempu assemi e ti dicu na piccula storia da vita mia. Aspettai troppu longhu pammu u ti dici chistu. Cuminciu cu ccocchi cosa chi forzi tu non sai di mia - a Sidernu ieu iera u tenutariu di nu toru forti chi si chamava Baggiano…
E doppu ndi facimu na partita i Briscula.
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