An abandoned village
in the south of Italy. Itís been 50 years since these
houses were last occupied. Pentedattilo is one of many
ghost towns in Calabria. But perhaps itís just too beautiful
to be abandoned completely. Rosella Aquilanti has lived in these
barren hills for the past 40 years. Leon! Aramis! Aramis! Ciao,
ciao, ciao! She still tends to her
goats every morning. But for the past two years,
sheís no longer been alone. Now she has Maka
Tounkara at her side. Letís fly!!! Maka comes from a small
village in south-western Mali, where he worked as
a shepherd and farmer. That was before he came
to Europe as a refugee. Ok Maka.
You can start. Oh Stracciatella! These
are my beautiful ones!... Yes, youíre pretty -
pretty, pretty, pretty! If you live in the countryside,
you need animals. Especially if you want
to be self-sufficient. Theyíre important
for us and for the land. They provide
us with food. They need something to live on
themselves, but they give so much back. But Rosella is now 63 and can no
longer manage all the work on her own. Maka came just
at the right time. Rosella met him two years
ago at a refugee shelter. She had long been on the
lookout for someone to help her, but hadnít found
anyone willing to live and work with her in
this remote location. Maka is great. Heís so kind, very
respectful, and not afraid of hard work. He also knows what heís doing and
in fact he actually likes being here because itís so much like his
own country, so he feels at home. We work really
well together. The Calabria region is suffering
from a prolonged drought. Maka sometimes walks with the goats
for half a day, to find food for them. Moving from place to place and working
hard, in search of a better future - is a way of life that
Maka is no stranger to. When he left Mali, he
got by doing odd jobs - first in Algeria, then in
Niger and then in Libya. But his goal was
to get to Europe. After six years, he finally
made it onto a refugee boat that took him across the Mediterranean
to Sicily. Later he came to Calabria. I like it here. Itís nice. But the
problem is that thereís nobody here. No one lives here. Itís just the two of
us in Pentedattilo. So itís not easy. There are hardly any jobs in
Calabria, and few prospects. Youth unemployment stands
at 37%, the highest in Italy. Many just want to
leave. But for Maka, this very place has provided
the opportunity he was looking for. Rosella, meanwhile, has
carried home the fresh goat milk... ...Back to the village
where no one else lives. Pentedattilo is one of 20
so-called ghost towns in Calabria. Italyís poorer south is
strewn with deserted villages. When Rosella first
came to Pentedattilo, the village had already
been uninhabited for 10 years. That was back in 1983
when she was in her early 20s and searching for a life of
freedom and independence. This house will collapse soon.
The roof has already gone... When I arrived here, the
house was all still intact. There was
another here too. The village of Pentedattilo
dates back to the year 640 BC. After several landslides, the
village was finally abandoned in the early 1970s. All the remaining
residents had to leave their homes. But Rosella came with the intention
of staying, right from the start. She gave up her job as
a postal worker near Milan and left her old
life behind her. Many people are shocked when they hear
that I live in an abandoned village. Many are so afraid of being
lonely. They even fear silence. But others admire me
because I lead such a simple life. And somehow, Iím
keeping this place alive. Otherwise, it would
really be a ghost town. On the slopes around the
village, Rosella harvests wild herbs. She calls this area
her secret garden. I canít say what drove
me to come here. There are some things
where, even forty years later, you still wonder
why you did them. But what I like about this place
most, is the incredible environment. Every moment is a moment of ecstasy, of
meditation because itís so beautiful. Maybe I came back here
to inspire young people to work with
their hands again. Iíve always found it satisfying
to work hard, to sweat, and then see the fruits
of my labour afterwards. But the drought of recent years
has made her life more difficult. She couldnít have a vegetable
garden that needs a lot of water. And so Rosella has
learned to live from the little that nature
provides her with. Casa Rosella -
this is her home. When she first
moved here, she persuaded the previous owners to
sell her the house for a good price. Itís time for lunch. Garlic,
rocket salad and some dandelion. Rosella doesnít
need much more. We do have pasta. Iíll mix
in the sad looking vegetables which is all I can harvest
in this desert landscape. And add a few
old potatoes. Makaís room is right next door.
He has his own cooking facilities and has prepared some meat
and liver from one of the goats, served with a spicy
sauce, and couscous. Italian cuisine is still
not really his thing. I love cooking... And
Malian food is the best. Maka is almost obsessed with cooking.
I always tell him, youíre a real chef! I think itís also a way for him
to reconnect with his homeland and the familiar
tastes of home. Maka, hurry up!
Iím ready, you too? They may cook separately,
but they still eat together. Conversation at the table is limited.
Maka canít yet speak enough Italian. Want to try
mine? No? We often disagree. He
wants to do things his way, and I want to do them my way.
Heís young and Iím old. Thatís life. At some stage, the older generation
has to make way for the young. Does school
start again today? They may not share
their food, or always agree, but Rosella and Maka have decided
theyíll be there for one another. I think Rosella also sees
that I feel at home here. Thatís why I give my
all when Iím working. For me, itís like working for
my own mother. So I do my best. Itís an arrangement
that benefits them both. Maka has a work contract,
wages, and a new home. And Rosella can continue living
here in her own personal paradise because
of his help. Twice a week, Maka rides
his bike to a neighbouring town where heís learning Italian. He
never got to go to school in Mali. Off we go! But first he has to carry his
bike, until he reaches a road. I like going to school. Education
gives you freedom and independence. Sometimes I still feel lonely here
because I donít speak the language well. Itís difficult to communicate. I
hope that by going to school, I will understand more and
more Italian and things will change. After Maka landed
in Sicily in 2018, he spent two years being moved
from one refugee shelter to another. His residency status has still
not been clarified to this day. But here in Calabria, Maka has
regained some of his freedom. You never know what to expect
when you come to a new place. Maybe it would be
the same if a European, who had only a vague idea
of Mali, went to live there. Itís usually not what you thought.
And thatís how it was for me. The evening classes are free of charge
and a real opportunity for Maka. Knowledge of Italian and a
permanent job with Rosella are exactly what he needs
to be granted an official visa. Maka really needs to learn
Italian and get a driver's license. Then he can decide what
he wants to do with his life. But he needs these basics,
especially the language. I think that's the most
important thing right now. After that, we'll
have to see. At the end of
the summer, Rosella prepares supplies to
carry them through the winter. We only have to
buy a very few things, because we produce
most of our food ourselves. And thanks to the goats, we
always have meat, milk and cheese. I try to be as
self-sufficient as possible, because I donít like
going to the supermarket. I never know
what to buy when I see all those polished
vegetables in packaging. I feel really
uncomfortable. Instead she preserves
everything herself. First, she marinates the summer
vegetables in brine for two weeks. Then she mixes
the aubergines, carrots and peppers with
fresh herbs and lots of olive oil! The olive oil is
such a blessing! It has life in it! Now I use my hands.
I prefer to do it with my hands. Look, it has all the goodness
and energy of the summer sun in it, that will help warm us
up in winter. Itís beautiful! Many have been fascinated
by Rosella and her way of life. They wanted to join her in this ghost
town. But none of them stayed for long. I canít imagine any other life.
Thereís nothing that I would change. And thank God, I had the
great fortune of meeting Maka who makes it possible
for me to continue. Iíve had friends in the
past who would say: Letís live here together,
Letís set up a community... But in the end I was
always on my own again because they didnít have the willpower
or the courage to follow through. ...Just behind the village,
is the old olive grove. Some of the trees that are here now
were bought by Rosella many years ago. Grab the
nets, Maka. Rosella and Maka arenít expecting a
bumper harvest because of the drought. Another problem is that the
goats like to nibble at the trees. But Rosella doesnít let
any of it get her down. See how good it is here! The air
that weíre breathing is so clean. And sure, itís windy sometimes,
but I feel so alive! I can feel nature - and I never
get tired of it. What do you
think, is that Ok? Theyíve spread
out the net, so Maka can now start to
rake the olives from the trees. He did this job
while in Libya. Back then, he was harvesting
olives to raise money for the traffickers
and the refugee boat. My fiancÈe is
waiting for me in Mali. I canít bring her here as it
would just be too expensive. Instead, Maka sends most of the
money that he earns back to Mali. In this way heís supporting his mother
and enabling his fiancÈe to study. Itís important that she
studies. I donít have that option. But in the end, itís
good for both of us. Iím supporting her now and
she will help me in the future. Rosella! Are you
ready, Maka? Si! Shall we start? Itís time for him to do his homework.
Maka never learned to read and write. Now he wants to make up for
lost time. And learn Italian too. And for that, he
needs Rosellaís help. Whatís an object? An object? Whatís this here? A pencil Exactly, the
pencil is an object. I got so emotional
when he started reading. I felt like a mother when
her son starts to spell. It happens little by little. And
thatís how it was with Maka, until he got to the point
where he was able to read. Sheís been helping me
so much since I came here. She helps me
with school too. Thanks to her, I can now
read and write a little bit. I can now write
my own name too. Once a year, Pentedattilo is
awakened from its slumber. Itís all thanks to this
man: Emanuele Milasi. He grew up just a few
kilometres from here, and remembers the
ghost town from his youth. He would come here
secretly with friends and they would scare each
other by telling horror stories. Itís been so long! How youíve grown! Thatís because I have a daughter
now. But youíre the same as ever. Iíd forgotten
how tall you are. The sun is
so beautiful. We need rain! No, thereís
the festival! Ok in two days. Three! Emanuele works as a
screenwriter in Milan. He left Calabria to go to
university and pursue his dream. But heís never
forgotten his roots. And every year, he organizes
an international short film festival - in Pentedattilo. Visitors from all
over the world will be on this terrace
during the film festival. Pentedattilo will come alive
again. Suddenly you hear voices. The windows are open, there
are lights in the narrow alleyways! But normal life in Calabria
otherwise looks very different. 300,000 people have left the
region in the last 10 years alone. The brain drain
is a real problem. Emanuele knows that
from his own experience. Pentedattilo is like a lost world.
But we all long for this world. We carry
it inside us. Who wouldnít like to be able to work
in the area where they come from, where their roots are? But
mostly thatís not possible. And the film festival is my way
of saying: Letís come back here. And come they do! Even though Pentedattilo is
no longer accessible by car. From the end of the road, they
have to make the steep climb on foot. The festival draws
tourists, filmmakers and film lovers from
all over the world. Hundreds of visitors flood into
the ghost town for three days. Here are a few more
posters. People are arriving, so please make sure the
posters are in prominent locations. ...Rosella also has her work
cut out for her during the festival. Pentedattilo
is alive again. Sheís cooking for some of the
visitors. Manuelo has come to help her. Heís a chef by trade
and grew up in Calabria. But these days he
lives and works in Berlin. Whenever I come to Calabria, I always
try to spend a few days with Rosella... Weíre cut from the same
cloth, I love to help her. We work and
have fun together! I love working
with her! Itís as busy in the kitchen
as it is outside in the village. And Rosella can earn
some extra money. Normally, my
life is very quiet. But during the film festival,
everything is different. Friends come to see
us, we cook for them, and they leave us
a small donation. She cooks for up
to 40 people a day. And the film festival
isnít the only time when Rosella profits from
the magical charm of her home. Throughout
the summer, she rents out rooms to tourists
and cooks for her guests. Iím a simple person.
What I do, I enjoy. Now, for example, preparing all the
food is stressful, but I enjoy doing it. Because when I see
that people are happy, and when they tell
me, oh itís so good! I get back the
energy I invested. Her terrace is
now full of visitors... So everyone wants goat
meat? A little to try? Ok! Her ghost town has
come back to life... Finally, the streets
are filled with life again. The film festival feels
like a ray of hope. Could Pentedattilo
have a future after all? Could art and culture help
to revive this ghost town? The film festival is
a gesture, if you like. Weíre not the ones who can
change the fate of this village. That would take planning. Weíre doing
what we can to keep this place alive. But there is so much to
do, and we canít do it alone. ...For Maka too,
itís a special time. Itís his first film festival. And a
friend of his has come along too. Kalifa is also from Mali. The
two of them met in Calabria. I have a friend visiting,
that makes me very happy! Itís nice to see so many people
here and to watch films. Itís great! Maka never went
to a cinema in Mali. Now thereís a whole film
festival on his doorstep. And people have come
from all over the world. The days were long
during the festival, but very satisfying
- for Rosella too. The guests have now gone. And
Pentedattilo is once again a ghost town. The place that Rosella
once fell in love with. I need the quiet. When things get
too much for me, I like to come here. Maybe thatís the
reason why Iím here. To show the world that you
can actually live with very little. Without this constant
craving for more. Itís an unhealthy craving
that never makes you happy. The secret of Rosellaís happiness is
a simple life, which sheís found here. If the abandoned villages of
Calabria are to have a future, it will take people
like Rosella and Maka. People with a vision, who
are willing to put in the work... Those who can perhaps
learn to live with less. Rosella is convinced there
are others like her out there. Iím optimistic about
the future of Pentedattilo. Once you see it, you
can never forget it. A lot of young people
approach me and offer to help. I find this
so beautiful. And maybe something new
will be born here in the future. Rosella and Maka donít get
any support from the authorities. So they put in the work themselves,
to keep the streets free from rubble. They wonít give
up on Pentedattilo. And they know they
can count on each other. I wonít leave her. I would
never even consider leaving her. I donít know what else life has in
store for me. But I know one thing: I will stay by Rosellaís side.
