Into the Depth of Silence

								
Don't be upset, Beatrice, but you have a Jewish nose."
Her cheeks turned red.
"Excuse me? A Jewish nose? And what does a Jewish nose look like? "
"Look into the mirror, and you will see."
A burst of laughter erupted from the three women sitting at the table in the small cafe on Rome's outskirts.
"I always am told I have a Roman nose," Beatrice said defensively.
"What does it matter, Jewish, Roman, Greek, it does not detract from the fact that you are a real gnocca."
"Now you are flattering me. Aren't you?"
Graziella approached Beatrice and hugged her. "I did not mean to offend you," she whispered into her ear.
Beatrice stood up and turned to some men sitting nearby.
"Hey," she said, "Would somebody tell me if being Jewish is something to be ashamed of?"
"If all Jewish women looked like you, then no, it's not a shame," replied one of the men as the others grinned and shook their heads without looking straight at her.
"You wretched racists," she blurted out at them.
Graziella raised her hand and motioned for the waiter to bring the bill. "Sit down Beatrice; you are making a fool of yourself; nobody here is a racist. I do not understand why you get so upset; it was just a statement, without any intention to offend."
For a moment the atmosphere seemed to calm down. Beatrice sat down and was silent as the conversation continued to flow in other directions. The waiter came and put the bill down on the table as Beatrice grabbed it and placed the payment next to it.
"I will pay, so you won't say that I am as stingy as you think Jews are."
She got up and left the cafe leaving her friends standing stunned and embarrassed.
"I do not understand what got into her. Where is the sense of humor? Why take everything so hard?" Beatrice Palumbo was born five decades ago in the Italian port city of Livorno, located in Tuscany, to a bourgeois Catholic family. When she was ten years old, they moved to Rome. Her devout parents, Sonia and Michele, would take her and her brother Davide who was two years younger than her, to church every Sunday. On Fridays, they did not eat meat, and at family meals, they made blessings over the food. Every week Beatrice and Davide would go to confession in the small local church in their neighborhood. At night before going to sleep, they would say a prayer.
Even after her marriage to Silvio and the birth of her two daughters, Maria Grazia and Monia, she kept up all the duties. However, approximately ten years ago, after her parents died within a year of each other and her girls were grown, she would skip praying now and then, avoided going to confession, and even didn't go to church on Sundays anymore.
When her two daughters got married, and her marriage to Silvio went sour, she decided that she was no longer interested in maintaining a religious character. She stopped going to church altogether and even missed her frequent visits to her parents' gravesite and contented herself with a visit once a year on All Saints' Day.
Her brother Davide, who never married, remained a devoted Catholic. He did not work, did not want to meet anybody, and lived on a meager disability pension. For a time, he brought into his home a homeless man whom he met at the church's soup kitchen where he would go for a hot meal. Beatrice suspected for many years that he had mental problems but they never talked about the subject.
After breaking up with her husband, she suddenly felt free to do whatever she pleased. She would hang out with her friends in cafes, enrolled in a neighborhood English class, and read many books that she borrowed from the public library in her neighborhood, where she worked as a part-time librarian. She did all the trite things that her husband had deprived her of, on the pretext that they were a "waste of time."
"Excuse me, but do you have a book on genetics?"
Beatrice, who was busy pasting the cover of a damaged book, raised her head. In front of her stood a smiling young man.
"Scientific genetics? Evolution? There are many books on the subject but what exactly are you looking for? "
The young man looked a little embarrassed.
"The truth is, I do not know; I want to understand genetics," he replied.
Beatrice typed the word "Genetics" into the computer and looked at the screen: "Genetics is a science that deals with the way humans, animals, and plants pass along different traits to their offspring."
Suddenly she remembered something and went over to one of the bookshelves. "We have a book on the Rev. Gregor Mendel, who is credited for bringing the science of genetics to the world."
She raised her hand to reach for the book.
"I will require an ID card from you."
When he handed it to her, she read his name aloud, "Claudio Palumbo! What a coincidence. That is my maiden name."
The young man smiled awkwardly. "That is strange. I've never met anybody bearing the same last name as mine."
"Where are you from?" she asked with growing curiosity.
"My parents were originally from Naples, but I was born and raised in Rome," he replied.
"And do the grandparents live in Naples?"
"Yes. My maternal grandparents died when I was a baby, but my paternal grandparents are both alive."
"What is your interest in genetics, if I may ask?"
"I'm very interested in family history. I am trying to understand what genes are and how they are genetically transmitted. I read that science is working on genetic mapping whereby a saliva test can identify belonging to a geographical area and to some extent the probability that the person is of one descent or another."
"Why is this so interesting to you?"
I am interested in the roots of the surname Palumbo. Since I read an article about the Jews who were expelled from Spain and came to Italy's ports, I discovered that one of the cities that agreed to absorb them was Naples.

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