Sardinia – Präriepost

Präriepost

June 15, 2015

Today from Cagliari

It is sunny, here, in this capital city of Sardinia, but the humidity dampens some of the impulsive activity displayed by the residents. From time to time, clouds cover up the intense sunlight and a brief shower may ensue in the late afternoon. At night, the weather is very comfortable for enjoying an elaborate outdoor dinner in the core of the city.

It is a bit cooler in the mountains and along the Mediterranean Sea. The golden beaches are reachable after steering over steep mountains and over long-winding dirt roads. Finally, the sea is discernable far back – without it, one might imagine oneself driving through desert territory.

The Sardinian mentality is inimitable. People appear somber here, they show few emotions. Their long faces, high contours and bushy eye brows suggest mysterious characters. Older men gather in public places, typically under a tree or on the corner bench. They view travelers with strong-minded indifference, determined not answer silly questions. “If you can’t find your way, why did you not stay at home,” is what they seem to suggest. You know better not to ask the next time.

The food is decidedly non-vegetarian. Meat is an important part of the longevity diet here, and everybody lets you know it. There is prosciutto, there is pork or lamb, and there is donkey and boar for those who are more adventurous. Served with red wine, of course, dried shepherd bread, and local cheese – everything appears to be in good order.

Driving through the mountains is always an experience. Somewhere there is a rally today, starting in Southern Sardinia, but the real rally occurs every day on the long-winding mountain roads. Shift before the curve, accelerate, shift after the curve, accelerate and then shift again before the next curve. Timing is everything. In the meantime, gas is needed even for the most fuel-efficient car here on the island. It is Sunday, however, and the gas stations are closed. After a while, you may spot a self-service station, machine operated only. No problem, just add cash and choose the right button to get started. However, there are six options and all say “Diesel” underneath the button. While contemplating the least wrong choice, the line of local Sardinians who also need to operate the same contraption is getting longer, and they gesticulate, they point and suggest, they try to assist. Finally, the 2^nd Diesel button is pushed. It works, even for the non-Diesel fuel – or so one would hope.

The tour continues alongside roads decorated with white and red blooming oleander. The upcoming city could not be more beautiful. Bosa, carved right out of a Paul Klee picture with its shimmering shapes! Terraces filled with intriguing dwellings built right into the mountain, all somewhat angled and in bright colors of blues, and greens, and yellows – above it all: the old castle seemingly protecting the quarters below. Who would not love it here?

Only the grotto is perhaps more magical, a few hundred miles south and reachable only by walking down 615 steps vertically toward the sea. If you want to enter the hidden fairy tale land you need to step down, and down, and down – but what a reward awaits at the very end of the short but arduous journey: enchanting stalagmites and stalactites lit from all sites building an astonishing world of imagination. If only there were not 615 steps to climb up again.

Finally, strangers to this island reach the longevity region, high up in the mountains, where the nonagenarian shepherds live. Centenarian women speak of their conviction: honesty, honesty, just keep up honesty and you will live a long life. The rest is up to the power above. Longevity here is a way of life, it is part of this community that supports prolonged existence. If you have tomatoes, I will trade cheese. If you need assistance, I will take time for you.

Longevity experts from 13 centenarian research teams have gathered here to exchange their ideas and findings. FOXO3 or BNDF appear to be secret biological markers. The attendees discuss vision and loneliness, activity, resilience, the impact of longevity on caregivers, and the importance of mental health and well-being. They provide evidence that new generations of centenarians are better off than earlier generations, and they compare results from their longevity regions: strong social support and low stress levels appear to be commonalities.

The members of the community in this longevity region listens attentively to these researchers, they tell their stories regardless of the questions being asked, and they feel honored to be hosting the event. They celebrate with music, folk dances, and with local food. Slow-cooked pork, cheese pockets with honey, and red wine appear to be the favorites, here in this land of longevity, where shepherds meet in tight-lipped fashion, where food is on everyone’s mind and where mountains and beaches exist together in seemingly perfect congruence.

Prairie Post

6-17-13

(today from Villagrande, Sardinia)

It’s a beautiful day, here, in this small village of Villagrande. The air is clear, the sky is dark blue, the temperature just right. They say that the lake they built some years ago has changed the weather, more fog and more rain than ever, but there is no evidence of this today. A cool, sunny morning brings out the good in everybody.

Three strangers have arrived from elsewhere, they clearly are not from here. They are just a bit too overdressed, their hurried walk gives them away, and they seem to be talking all the time. People here prefer a much simpler life. They hang out at the local bar, they sit around tables in cafés , they take a break, and there is no need to constantly analyze their own well-being. Life is much simpler here, in Villagrande.

Even though it is apparent that these strangers do not belong here, they are welcome into a dense social web of relationships. It is lunchtime – a time spent together, time for a good meal. They bring prosciutto and sausages, and their own special bread soaked in water. They bring pasta and parmesan and their own local red wine. They bring boar, pork, lamb, and beef. They bring fresh fruit, their own peaches, cherries and apricots, they bring cheeses and tomatoes, and risotto with mushrooms, they bring tiramisu and coffee, and you must finish with their local digestives. There is nothing simple about the meals they offer to visitors coming through town.

It is the atmosphere that is most remarkable around the long tables where people share a meal. They relax in togetherness, without a loud word, there is simply social togetherness. There is no rush, not hurry, no mission to fulfill. There is an exchange of a few words, enjoyment of the day with others, being there for each other.

It is not only their social togetherness that is striking, there is also a composed, relaxed personality noticeable among the people of Villagrande. No stern reaction to others, a faint smile every now and then, a no-worry attitude. After all, what is all the fuzz about? They are used to protect their sheep, and so they are used to protect each other. Their self reliance must be coming from many hours and days on the mountainside. They call it the “pastoral life.” A given responsibility is a taken responsibility. They are pastoral to each other as much as they are pastoral to themselves.

And they are active here, in this small community, walking up and down these hills, stairs, everywhere stairs, they are headed toward their own garden built into the hillsides of the village. They walk their sheep, and tend their goats. They are outside and walk, stairs and stairs and stairs, they are outside and breathe. There is nothing complicated about this philosophy, it is very down-to-earth way living, down-to earth relating, down-to-earth introspecting.

And they have a good sense of humor. They laugh or smile, they like to be with other people even if they don’t need to talk all the time. They like to create a mess but then bring things back to order, they like ideas, so long as they are not too abstract. They have family, and family is at their inner core. They say it’s a hard life, but a good life. Roberta is asking all the questions, she is engaged, she enjoys the interaction. And they enjoy her, because they know her.

Today they celebrate St. Basilio, the patron of the city. The only road through town is blocked off and the street vendors bring in their food, their crafts, their antiques. The church is too small today, so there are additional chairs outside, neatly ordered in rows. There is a procession with a statue of the saint in front, the whole town will follow with music and prayer. Afterwards, the extended family gets together for another feast. More than fifty people have come, and there are these strangers again. Of course, they are also welcome. There is food, food, and food. A piglet, lamb and chicken are roasting on a large grill. “You should never run out of food,” says Marcus, the father, “it would be bad luck.” Marcus stands up and leans over the tables to make his point. He always smiles when he gets excited, his short hair frames a bronze taint that he develops when he is out in the forest. Marcus is in charge here, in his quiet way. Because he is proud to share his experiences, he pours another glass of local liquor for everybody, because it is time to celebrate life.

They live in a blue zone, a longevity hot spot. They live a good life and a long life, here, where the sun is always shining on top of these beautiful hills and in the hearts of these humble people, where the food is local and plentiful, and where everybody puts issues aside to enjoy the simple life.