By Sunayana Choudhry 

1944...the 2nd World War...the scene of battle - Ciociaria (cho-cha-ria), the region lying midway between the great cities of Rome and Naples on the plains of the river Liri...the Sikh regiment camping at Ceprano (che-prano) readying for the Battle of Cassino.
Like most medieval towns of Ciociaria, Cassino was built on a hill to enable the townsfolk to defend themselves against invaders. On the summit of the hill is the grand and imposing Benedictine Monastery of Montecassino.
Although a small town, Cassino has always been of significance due to its strategic position as the entrance to Central Italy. As a result, many battles have been fought over it - the last one being the Battle of Cassino when in February of 1944 the entire Monastery was razed to the ground by aerial bombardment, in just three hours! The reconstruction of the Monastery started soon after the end of the war and it now stands in all its former glory on the same spot.
Ciociaria is dotted with many such medieval towns perched, sometimes seemingly precariously, on and around the higher parts of hills. There being no room for expansion, the new areas of the town had to be built in the valley around or at the foot of the hill thus enabling the medieval town to retain its old-world charm.
Till today, the facades of many buildings remain the same although the interiors have been modernized to deal with present day life! Not everything has changed though, as in the home of the old wine expert of Ceprano, with its gun slats above the heavy wooden front door, a warning to unwelcome visitors, or the huge fireplace where the family would sit to keep warm! And the wine cellar underground where many a bottle of the finest wine was allowed to mellow over the years.
The Benedictine monks had their own secret recipes for making wines, digestive liqueurs and aperitifs (the practice continues). Herbs were grown for this purpose in the gardens of the beautiful Monastery of Trisulti, an isolated spot in an emerald green forest up in the mountains. 
In contrast is the more austere Abbey of Casamari, whose monks introduced farming with 'modern' techniques to the people of the valley.
The Sunday 'flea market' is proof that farming is still very much a part of the lives of the people of Ciociaria. It is traditionally a buying day for the townspeople. Everything, from olives to wines to meats, clothes to shoes, household articles to plants, is neatly set out by the shopkeepers in front of their caravans. By the afternoon everything is sold and it's goodbye till the following Sunday. 
Religious tradition is as important a part of the lives of these people as is the 'flea market'. The streets of the towns of Ciociaria come alive with colour on the festival of Corpus Christi. Flowers are used to create intricate designs, much like the rangoli of India, on entire stretches of streets through which the pageant will proceed on its way to the church at the top of the hill.
'Social' tradition is kept alive in the town square of Ceprano as it is in every other small town. It is where the younger generation meets to exchange meaningful glances, hold hands, macho talk or whiz around on their vespa scooters, the only vehicles the tiny streets can take. So where else can you expect a young man to approach a teenaged Indian girl asking for her permission for a kiss and accepting a flustered refusal as graciously as a 'thank you' !
While the youngsters prefer the outdoors, the older people of the town take to the bars situated on all sides of the square-coffee in the morning and the harder stuff in the evening! The atmosphere is one of camaraderie as everyone knows everyone else. Therefore, foreigners are looked upon with-curiosity by the younger set, wariness by the middle generation and suspicion by the old people!
The innocent act by a stranger in Ceprano, of standing on the bridge over the river Liri, while eating an apple, caused a diversion of all traffic! Entrance into any of the shops in search of a 'machina peppe' (pepper grinder), caused an evacuation. The word soon got around that the stranger was an 'Indian' and not a member of Sicily's infamous Mafia. All suspicion disappeared to be replaced by interest by the old men, many of whom remembered the Sikhs from the days of the Battle of Cassino. The Sikhs who were like no men they'd seen before, with their long and flowing hair and beards, who then twisted that long hair into an equally long piece of cloth called a turban, who wore a 'bangle' on their arm...... and made that wonderful bread...cha-paa-tee!!

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