Amazing this iPhoto stuff; the photo above was really blurry and dark. It turned out badly because I was trying not to stand out amongst the crowd and turned off the flash. If I had a steady hand, it would look great. Of course, I don’t have a steady hand, because, well, I’m freaking OLDer and just plain OLD.
So, yes, I was feeling kind of old yesterday. That is, until I went to my cultural lesson in the evening about the Palio and just when I was feeling a little on the ancient side, I was also listening to one of the teachers describe the annual Sienese festival that started in the 1100’s. That’s right, 1100’s. Now, that’s old. While it didn’t make me feel all that much better about my age, I did forget about the whole age thing for a little while. Then again, maybe I forgot about my old age BECAUSE of the old age.
So, by the way, the Palio is extremely interesting. I’d advise everyone to take a 10-minute break and read about it on Wikipedia. The long and short of it is that it’s an annual festival that happens twice per year in Siena. Once in July and once in August. It’s a horse race between 10 of the 17 contrade (contrada is singular). Contrade is how the city of Siena is divided and think of your contrada as a neighborhood association on “those special vitamins of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, and Marion Jones”. I say steroids (or stereos) because your contrada is JUST AS important as your own family. Its organization, purpose, mission, and symbolism go well beyond neighborhood watch and the summer concerts that we are familiar with. Its importance is no joke to the Sienese, and after hearing the descriptions of the things that members of the contrada do for each other, it’s something to be admired. It injects the city with a number of extremely important social constructs that not only benefit its people but also the city as a whole. The contrada is unique to Siena and something to be admired.
I look forward to my first Palio, and speaking of that, I neglected to mention in previous entries that there is a TV channel here that is mostly dedicated to Siena, and so, one of the things that this channel does, is to show the Palio from years past. Carla happened to be channel surfing the other night and she told me about this channel and then she asked me if I wanted to see the Palio where Pantera (this is Carla’s contrada) won. I think you know what my answer was. She pulled out this huge volume from her bookcase; it was like a huge high school yearbook that covered the Palio for 2006 and in the back was a DVD of the Palio, 2006, July.
The horse race was the first chapter of this 60 minute DVD. Yes, 60 minutes. Like I said, this stuff is important and its symbolism and meaning go well beyond a simple horse race. So, there we were watching the race, and I’m listening to Carla’s play-by-play, an extremely detailed one at that, and great for me because it’s in Italian. I’m sitting there, pretty relaxed with my legs up on the chair, watching the race and Carla is now almost shouting. When the Pantera horse crossed the finish line, I thought she was going to jump up on the sofa and start clapping (...Mamma mia, stai tranquilla...). It was an amazing sight to see her so excited, and for a brief moment, I was wishing that I were lifecasting this whole experience. It seemed as if this were her very first time watching the event. After the few minutes of awe that I experienced while watching Carla, I turned back to the video and couldn’t believe my eyes. Celebration, for Pantera, was in full swing, and I kid you not, the people on the video looked as if they had just been touched by God, met the remaining members of the Holy Trinity, blessed by every saint of the Catholic Church, and invited to dinner with their favorite celebrity all at once. I have never seen people that happy before in my life. Like I said, it’s more than just a simple horse race put on by the neighborhood association.
And so, about that sweater. Sorry about the length of this post, but it was a good day. Marcel, Anna, and I decided to go out the night before my birthday. What a marvelous evening it was that started with aperitivo in Piazza Del Campo. We selected the place because the prosciutto crudo looked amazing and since this is one of the things that I can never get in America (well, at least not like it is in Italy), it was a great idea. We then went to Trattoria dei Papei, ate a fabulous meal of cinghiale and bisteca fiorentina, and drank amazing wine. Seriously, the wine does not get more perfect than this and I felt like it made my Italian a lot better (HA!). Just to explain the white stuff on my sweater, we had a small spillage, and somehow red wine ended up on my sweater. Marcel recommended that I take off my sweater and put salt on the wine as this is supposed to assist with the prevention of the staining. I should mention, that in the current state that I was in, I really didn’t give a care. Unfortunately, I will never know if salt on red wine is a good idea or not. I’ll have to trust that German ingenuity is correct, and when you think about it, it isn’t such a bad bet.
We retired to a small bar and disco in the Piazza and awaited midnight, at which point, we drank shots of Vodka. That day, in class, we discussed international stereotypes and decided on Vodka since Anna is Polish and therefore brushes her teeth with the stuff, bathes with it, and drinks it like water. After that shot of Vodka, we probably should have gone home (at least I should have) but instead we ventured out of the disco and to an Irish pub near our school. Somewhere in the roads that lead you to the Irish pub, there is an orange sweater, Brooks Brothers, perhaps still stained with red wine, but permanently imprinted with great memories.
To whoever finds it: If you decide to keep it, please take great care of it and I hope that it will bring you unbelievable luck with the opposite sex...or whatever your flavor, slim your figure to your exact liking, and bring you an endless string of beautiful evenings like the one that I just described. In bocca al lupo.
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