Sometimes on a trip you have an experience that leaves you wondering what exactly happened, and fortunately it’s often a pleasant experience. This one, in Naples, turned out that way for us.
We were on our way to visit the Certosa e Museo di San Martino and found ourselves walking a long way, uphill, because for reasons no one could give us the bus from the Metro to the museum wasn’t running. Fortunately, there were a couple of escalators that handled the steepest parts.
As we reached a point where our map wasn’t helpful (the same street name in two places) we were approached by an older gentleman who asked, in quite good English, if we needed help. I showed him our map and told him where we were going. No problem, he said, he was headed that way and we could walk with him.
As we walked, we ended up in conversation about New York and Naples; we told him that we were retired educators, and he told us his family owns a factory near the museum. A bit further on, we asked what kind of factory, and he told us it was a small one, employing mostly his family and a few others, and that it made cameos.
If this is starting to sound familiar, it should: We found later that Giuseppe is in the habit of gently guiding strangers up the hill to the museum, and past the corner a block away where the factory is. Google “Naples Cameo” and you’ll find the story on all the boards.
Nonetheless, it was a pleasant conversation; he discussed the effect on Naples of the end of the Cold War and departure of the U.S. Sixth Fleet; American sailors had been their best customers. When we reached the de Paola Cameo Factory, it seemed like the most natural thing to take a look.
And we were fascinated. One of Giuseppe’s brothers is the principal carver and, for obvious reasons, has a workbench, tools and work in progress in the sales area. He was happy to show us what he was doing.
And so we learned for the first time that not all cameos are the white-thing-pasted-on-a-colored-background we’d always assumed. These cameos are made by finding seashells with a white interior and a colored exterior, and patiently scraping and polishing the colored side, and with equal patience and amazing skill carving an image into the white side, exposing the color behind it.
We weren’t asked to buy anything. There was no need. It didn’t take much looking around at the work on display to realize how much we liked a great deal of it…followed by some whispered conversations, and another beautiful pair of earrings joined my wife’s collection.
Were we ‘played?’ You might think so, and some posters on various sites seem to think they were—but for us, it was one of those moments that upset your expectations, and make travel all the more fun.
I think you were played in that your new friend wanted to guide you to his factory and succeeded. But you weren’t cheated or lied to, and you had a wonderful experience ( I would have wanted to see that factory, too). So it’s a win-win.
I’m curious, PHeymont. Did you buy any of that lovely handicraft?
I see I didn’t make clear. The lovely earrings in the picture came home with us!