Piera, a resident in Poggio alla Croce

In these last few years a lot has changed

Things were different before, people were simpler

They often came into the centre.

Now they stay at home,

the village is less lived in.

Before we were all concentrated on my shop.

Most of the world,

most of life took place around it.

A place to meet, to understand each other,

maybe argue with different opinions

but still have a dialogue. That was life,

in my view that really was.

Andrea, who conceived the welcoming project

Poggio alla Croce could be defined

as “a small Switzerland”

Located in a beautiful spot

between Chianti and Valdarno

Residents are busy at work

and like to collaborate.

In summer a nice festival is organized

attracting people from both valleys

When problems arise, like with ice in winter,

informations flow over the internet.

Looked like and ideal place

Then in April 2017 the “bomb” went off:

thirty migrants to be hosted in the “palace”,

a former hotel middle of village

It sounded as if a spaceship full

of little black men was about to land

Piera

Black men are coming. Black men are coming.

We are all with our hairs raised,

very worried, me too to be honest because

you hear a lot of good

but also bad about these youngsters

Andrea

The strongest reaction, intense and wide,

was an immediate refusal,

a “belly” reaction that caused

an immediate decision

to collect signatures against,

in less than three days

230 signatures were collected

Even though the Poggio’s residents

are around 190.

Attilia, a teacher in the the school for migrants

A first meeting was held

one and half year ago in summer

before the migrants arrived,

so we did not know them

They had no face for us, they had no name

I don’t live in Poggio alla Croce,

I come from a nearby village

During the meeting there were

some very aggressive people,

I guess they were sincerely scared

Martin, parson of Poggio alla Croce

Their reaction was not due to being bad.

Behind there was also a reality

that must be told. It must be told that

none was pepared because none

had been alerted that these foreigner,

these migrants were coming

Paolo, a resident in Poggio alla Croce

Someone started collecting signatures,

and I agreed only because I wanted to know

where would these kids be hosted,

what did they come for then it became

clear that this was not the reason

they did not want to welcome them

So I said my signature was extorted

and was not in agreement any more

Luana, a resident in Poggio alla Croce

They told us

“in a year time we’ll remind you of this..

we are scared..

I have an 18months old little girl

who won’t be able to walk the streets anymore”

But I refused to sign in

and became the black sheep

Paolo

They are black, and that may be difficult to fathom

Integration is not easy, not easy.

Also on their side

Attilia

There was a bad feeling around,

a terrible atmosphere

My legs trembled, truly.

I recognized kids that I knew

when they were little children.

And now as grown ups they were scared

and said they did not want the migrants

because their life would change,

it would not be possible

anymore to go quietly around in Poggio.

No more walkabouts but they shouted

all this in a really aggressive way..

and I started to tremble and was unable

to tell what I meant,

that I felt very sorry to see children

who had grown up together

accustomed to sharing…and I remember

there were also coloured children

in our classes and they all played together

And now I was frightened

by what they had become

Was more scared of them than

of the coming migrants because

I could sense a rage and violence

that really frightened me

Andrea

When the spaceship

with its little black men finally landed

we managed to organize

a first meeting in a room under

the church that our parson Martin

put at our disposal

for the whole project.

Sitting on chairs in a circle

all mixed up some of us,

some of them, we played a bit.

We sticked a piece of paper on the wall

and each and one of us started to write

“Andrea Formiconi, italian, speaks italian”

Then casually pointed the felt-pen towards

one or the other and they wrote in turn

Each and one of us wrote his name,

which country he came from,

which language he spoke,,,

A simple exercise that opened

a whole world, a universe

because it turned out that with

fourteen-fifteen of them there were

twelve-thrteen languages spoken

That some of them were illiterate,

you could tell by the unlikely way they

brandished the feltpen in their hands,

In fact they did not write but

drew their name. At the same time

some of them attended school

and to one exreme there was one kid

that had escaped while in his fourth year

of Mathematics at university.

This helps understand the enormous

fan of different human stories and situations

hiding behind this stereotype that we call

with just one name: the migrant..

which prompts the image of one

little black man, the same, and his

standard story.

Absolutely not like that !

Malo’, a teacher in the school for mugrants

Three of us that embarked in this adventure

of the “little school of Poggio alla Croce”

without really knowing what to expect.

We felt the urge to do something

to help these youngsters,

and we thought that teaching them

italian language was the thing to do

also to improve their trust in themselves.

As we are scared of them blacks,

they are scared of us whites

They are afraid of us.

The funny thing is that a lot of people

were involved who had nothing .

to do with teaching.

People like Marcie who is canadian

with very little italian but

she taught italian.. and Willy

who is still with us who reads

and does dictation

and anything else with them

I teach in primary schools

on Tuesday when finished

With my class, often very tired like last

year when I taught in first

I sit in the car and say to myself

“why do you do it ?

you should go home to rest or make dinner”

then I close my eyes and think

“if it is the right thing to do I'll find

the missing energies” and there I go

and afterwards I am happy because you get

there and see those smiles with white teeth

and those white teeth of black people

those happy eyes...

I see Ajan, I see Dedo, the Kurds...

waiting for you

who thank you for being there,

who are looking forward

for you to teach them something.

(Car noise...)

I arrived here a bit by chance,

I got to know this experience

thanks to Andreas, his stories

in university classrooms and I decided to

to come and have a look.

The question I get asked most often

is why I'm doing this, especially because

what strikes me about me is the fact

that I come from almost 90 kilometres

almost two hours by car anyway

just to get here.

It's not easy to explain,

because the reason

lies in so many little things:

gestures, looks, emotions,

the feelings you have when

you get in touch with these people

which in the end are lives

are experiences, are worlds

with which you come into contact

and of which you often know nothing.

(Traffic noise...)

(Country noises, chirping...)

(Squeaking bicycle...)

(Background music...)

I go to school in Figline Valdarno

every day, On Mondays and Tuesdays

I go by car but the other days I ride my bike.

I ride my bike. It's not difficult to go,

but it is difficult to return

because it takes an hour and

thirty minutes, It's tiring.

When I was in Africa I didn't go to

school and fortunately I found myself in

Europe and met the people who

are helping me

and enrolled me in school.

My goal is to learn the Italian language

I would like to stay in Italy,

I would like to work to help

my family in Africa. Therefore

I have to concentrate on studying,

it's my goal.

My name is Madou Koulibaly, I come

from Guinea and I'm 20 years old.

I arrived in Italy a year and

two months ago, it was a very

difficult trip, I can't forget it,

It was very dangerous.

I sacrificed my life

to seek my fortune in Europe

and thank God I entered Italy

on 13 June 2018

and I was transferred

to Poggio alla Croce.

I met some very good people who

treated me like one of their own,

they are like my parents here,

not only me but all the Africans

who live in Poggio alla Croce.

I would like to continue studying,

if there is a possibility,

I'd like to study and learn

a job, for example a welder.

(Noise spring water, chirping...)

Italy saved me in the sea,

in Italy I went to school

and I would like to continue studying,

I don't know what will happen afterwards.

Poggio alla Croce is my village.

The path is chaotic,

one cannot expect to follow

a preordained thread:

it would kill this kind of school.

So you have to follow the wind.

An example would be when

Samba had written the curriculum

on the computer,

then of course you try to help:

"Samba, what does this mean?

What's this...?"

Then we read:

"driving experience", so I ask:

"Samba, what did you drive?"

He light up immediately and says

"Cow!"

and a whole other discussion

started from there

about how things change over time,

how they change in Africa,

how they change here.

This is an example of digression.

It's a people-centred school,

essentially.

(Soft music, dialogue in the background..)

We all have attics full of old computers

and we don't know what to do with them.

It's a problem because we have to take them

to the eco-center and so we've been

spreading this information:

"Do you have an old computer?

You don't know what to do with it,

is that a problem for you?

Instead of giving it to the

recycling centre, give it to us,

we install a version the Linux

operating system, a lightweight version

that fits into old computers

and easily "resurrects" them.

The Ubuntu operating system

is so called because it is a concept

from southern Africa and

Nelson Mandela in a beautiful

video that we used

for a work with the students,

describes it with a little story:

"Once upon a time, when a wayfarer

arrived in a village and he was

tired, thirsty and hungry, no one would

ever ask him any question,

they simply brought him something to drink

and food. This is Ubuntu, that is

thinking about the other in the knowledge

that this creates a community

that lives well if we all do that."

Ubuntu is a great African philosophy,

a great African thought...

it's about getting to the help

it starts with the fact that we're all

brothers, if I help one person

that person can help

another person close to me,

therefore a general connection

of society in that we all consider

ourselves brothers and sisters.

What happened in Poggio alla Croce

is Ubuntu, it's definitely

authentic Ubuntu.

(Chorus of African children...)

I think that following a principle

where helping someone will help me

in turn is good for both, better than

fighting with each other,

even though in fight wins may be

happier than the loser.

This principle guides my whole life

since I started reasoning I have always

used the time I had available in social activities.

But not for “goodism”, not because

I am good and consequently must do good,

help others, help beggars, no.

Maybe I am led by selfishness,

I think I earn something this way

and so live a better life, be serene.

You get a lot of rip-offs, but not like

those you get When fighting and losing.

More like opportunities that leave

a bitter taste in our mouth but do not create

big problems. There were racist

symptoms around and that is way

I decided to get involved but basically

it was my way of doing things: I am a migrant

myself in Poggio alla Croce, moving from town

to the country.

I choosed to and almost from start

it was natural to decide joining this association.

It is a way of living, it is normality,

no heroism, I think everybody

can understand this.