The birth of the “Vespanauta”: from Italy to Bangladesh on a 42 years old Vespa

Restless Wanderer

The year 2020 wasn’t just defined by the pandemic’s grip; it was the year I finally choked on the dust of my own discontent.

In the frantic vortex of modern society, where time flows inexorably and the clock hands mark a relentless rhythm, more and more people find themselves swallowed up by a feeling of profound alienation.

I became one of them.

Working in a Multinational: An Experience That Taught Me a Lot

For seven years, I worked in a large multinational company. It was a formative and rewarding experience. I had the opportunity to grow professionally, learn new skills, and work with big projects.

However, I also realized that it wasn’t my path. The hectic work pace, the constant pressure, and the feeling of being just a cog in a giant machine didn’t make me feel fulfilled.

This was the grip that squeezed my heart, imprisoned in a gilded cage of suffocating routine and frenetic relationships. Work, once a source of satisfaction and growth, had become a ruthless tyrant, devouring every minute of my existence and draining my happiness. The man I was was being lost, I was living the life of someone else, I said to myself one morning in front of the mirror. Something inside me was broken forever.

Like a castaway looking for a lifeboat, I began to yearn for an anchor of salvation, a way to escape the spiral of alienation that was affecting me. I was looking for more humane rhythms, an authentic connection with others, that empathy and sharing that modern society, with its frenzy and unbridled individualism, seems to have forgotten.

A new spark: the encounter with Rishilpi International Onlus

It was at that moment of deep disillusionment that I met Rishilpi International Onlus, an Italian non-profit organization, dedicated to fighting poverty and promoting education, healthcare, freshwater distribution in the Sathkira area, Bangladesh. Founded by Enzo Falcone and Laura Melano in 1974, after the tremendous war of independence, that took 3 million lives and brought immense devastation in the country, their pristine mission was to improve the lives of people of the “untouchable” Rishi caste.

“Rishilpi” is formed from two Bengali words, “Rishi,” denoting the caste, and “shilpi,” meaning artist or craftsman.

Rishi, traditionally leather workers, for centuries have lived at the margins of Bengali society. Generally landless, with no easy access to schools, many struggled in a continual search for work to survive. By giving these artisans education and employment, Rishilpi helps them breach barriers confronting them in society. In addition to income generation, Rishilpi conducts relief and development work in rural Bangladesh communities. Benefits to artisans include education sponsorship, health care, micro-credit savings programs and early marriage prevention support for their adolescent daughters.

From untouchables (Rishi) to artisans (Shilpi)….the dream of Enzo and Laura today is nowadays a huge beautiful reality.

Through their work finally, I saw a chance to not only connect with my desire of “becoming a better human” but also play a small role in supporting the dreams and aspirations of someone else.

My name is Kakuli and I come from Banlgladesh

As I delved deeper into their work, another thread began to weave itself into the tapestry of my discontent. It wasn’t just my own need for liberation that gnawed at me; it was a deep-seated yearning to witness, firsthand, the challenges faced by Kakuli, a little girl I decide to adopt by distance on my 30th birthday, the 11 December of 2020. This adoption was driven by a deep desire to provide Kakuli with the necessary resources for her school education, getting to know about all the problems many people have to face everyday in Bangladesh and, more importantly, prevent her from becoming another statistic in the fight against child marriage – a practice far too prevalent in her home country. Knowing about the mission of Rishilpi gave me another spark of joy: I would reconnect with myself and my beliefs.

Through letters and photos, a bond had blossomed. Kakuli’s bright eyes and contagious smile, captured in photographs sent by mail by the NGO, sparked a connection that transcended miles and cultural barriers. In her innocent gaze, I saw not just a child in need, but the wish to change in better the life of a young child.

The desire to truly connect with Kakuli, to understand the world she knew and the challenges she faced, grew stronger with each passing day. I yearned to bridge the physical and cultural gap, to go beyond the limitations of letters and photos and experience her world firsthand. This, I realized, was the missing piece in our bond, the key to fostering a deeper connection and truly making a difference in her life.

The crazy idea

The spark of an idea, as startling as a bolt of lightning, ignited within me one sleepless night. My need of freedom, my connection with Kakuli, and a chance to contribute to the work of Rishilpi with a volunteering project– all intertwined in one extraordinary journey.

That sleepless night, I stared at the map, lost in reverie. My finger traced imaginary lines, crossing over countries with exotic names that had filled my childhood dreams: Iran, India, Nepal. They conjured up visions of great civilizations and empires, vibrant cultures and intoxicating aromas, dazzling colors, and snow-capped mountains towering 8,000 meters high.

That night, my finger traced a route, still imaginary but one that would one day become reality. I would not take an airplane I swore! That symbol of the frenetic culture I was eager to escape! Too many countries lay between Italy and Bangladesh; I would miss them all if I flew. Airplanes only take you from point A to point B in a heartbeat. You miss the best part: everything in between.

I would go slowly, like a snail carrying its home on its back. I would travel at a human pace, at 60 km/h with her, that 42 years old Vespa that had been slumbering in my garage and that I had bought almost by chance two years earlier. I had named her Ronzinante, like Don Quixote’s clumsy horse, after falling down on a wet asphalt during a rainy day. Battered and bruised, just like the knight’s steed. Perhaps buying that Vespa was my first taste of freedom, an escape from the monotony of my work-home routine. It was on that saddle, on that Vespa, during those 16 km between home and work, that my dream of travel, of madness, and of freedom had perhaps taken shape in my mind.

After that sleepless night, the next day, I no longer saw the monotonous plain of Parma countryside (the city where I lived and worked at the time). Instead, I saw deserts, Himalayan valleys, and verdant Indian jungles. Something inside me had broken forever.

This wouldn’t just be a trip; it would be a pilgrimage, a physical manifestation of my self rebirth…

Of course, skepticism, like a well-worn path, presented itself… The chorus of doubt from those around me was predictable. “Are you out of your mind?” they cried, their voices laced with a cocktail of concern and disbelief. “What if it breaks down? Why not just fly like a normal person?” Their apprehension was understandable. After all, I was no seasoned biker, and the allure of modern vehicles, with their sleek exteriors and creature comforts, was undeniable. Yet, an unwavering conviction thrummed within my chest. I decided to travel at the speed of a snail, savoring every sight, sound, and smell that the tapestry of different countries would offer. I craved an experience stripped bare to its essentials, an immersion into the raw beauty of the world. And like a true snail; I will have to bring my little home with me…

Suddenly, I took the life-altering decision to shed the shackles of my corporate job. Now, with a heart brimming with freedom and the intoxicating thrill of adventure, I was finally ready to turn my Vespa eastward and embark on this crazy overland odyssey…..

Welcome to the World Vespanauta! A new life is there 🙂