In the heart of the “Novitian summer” I arrive in Rome for a work experience at Centro Astalli, the Italian “branch” of the Jesuit Refugee Service.

The first nice surprise is the Rome stifling heat; the second is having to deal with teenagers. After a scout camp just ended up with unleashed
teenagers, the last thing I want  is another full immersion with “reckless barbarians” .

So for a few days I live in a house of the Center that welcomes young people between the ages of 16 and 18 with the aim of helping the children to settle in the Italian society. The desolating position of the house – just in the middle of two not very nice rail lines – is for me a traumatic clash with sister poverty – the real one, not the poetic and romantic one of the Ignatian pilgrimage. I reluctantly notice my sad inconsistency: I dream great things, daring missionary lanes to the poor and the “last”, and then shudder in front of small signs of squalor.

Fortunately, the man’s adaptive capacity is at work. Two days in that environment and I almost start to enjoy an unspecified sense of freedom well expressed by some words of a song by Janes Joplin: ” Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” Maybe it sounds bad but I really think that it is in a situation of material essentiality that you can really be free.

And the guys … what stories, what courage, what determination !! At the age of 16 they left the security of their roofs for the hypothesis of a better future. They faced unacceptable travel conditions without a piece of bread and a sip of water for days. And they are there to smile, to joke, to dream, ready to resume the crossing despite the disappointment of the arrival. It is true that they often have no choice but their courage makes me think about the conditions of today’s many Westerners with no balls.

A word today in vogue in the business-economic world is resilience, understood as the ability to cope successfully with traumatic events. And the resilience of these guys, their ability to survive and fight at their young age against adversity of all sorts, makes me think a lot. If well-integrated they can really be a vital resource for our country. We certainly need far-sighted integration policies, but I do not think this is an impossible challenge.

As for any situation, dark or negative sides are not lacking. Their relationship with food is sprawling: the trash basket is the natural destination for either leftovers or any food they don’t like. It is perhaps the symptom of some unsuccessful form of emancipation. I try to re-educate on this aspect but with little results. And though “We are called to love not to succeed” – as a few days later an educator of a an Addiction Recovery Community in Puglia will tell me – at that moment my frustration rises to the stars.

Fortunately, the positive moments of peaceful and enriching confrontation are numerous: we talk about Islam and Christianity – the common points between these two religions – I am surprised by their nostalgia for Mubarak and we spend an unforgettable – and frantic – day in a communal pool . Keep up to 5 boys (4 Egyptians and 1 Albanian) who run and tuck between beach umbrellas, deck chairs and pools is not a challenge I’m used to. In the evening, gathered in prayer in the chapel by the house, I suddenly burst into an uncontrollable laughter in front of the crucifix “Oh Jesus, but look at where you put me!” Tagore was right when he stated that “Life is nothing but the continual wonder of existence,” one of the beautiful quotations that decorate some interesting photographs on the walls of the center. And this short “summer vacation” has been another confirmation of the poetry of life.