Then the next day was the day of the race. We tried to watch the blessing of the horse, but only had the chance to see the horse being lead into the church since la piccolo chiesa couldn’t fit all of us. “Go little horse and return a winner,” the priest tells the horse and a benediction is given to the horse and the jockey showing the mixture of holy and secular. Later was a parade which made me feel as if I was caught in a medieval century; the costumes were so colorful and I could only imagine what it was like walking around in the extreme heat wearing wool stockings or armor.
And finally, it was time for the Palio! Thousands of people poured into the Piazza Del Campo all waiting in anticipation. It is true what they say that the feeling of being there is truly indescribable. The tension of the piazza is nearly tangible. My own heart was racing and my breath was short when the actual Palio was brought in. The Palio is a banner with representation of the Holy Mary, a horse, and the 10 racing contradas on it. This year the mayor commissioned an artist to also honor the nuns that I am working with at the clothing distribution and soup kitchen. Although there was a great deal of inexperience between the jockeys and the horses, the race only took 45 minutes to start—and was over in about two!
I felt like I shared the pain of the Nicchio contrada when our jockey fell off in the infamous San Martino turn on the first lap, but it didn’t matter. The most experienced jockey was teamed with the decent Istrice (Porcupine) horse and when we saw them pull out at the starting line, there was never a chance for anyone else. The Torre (Tower) came closest, but alas Istrice pulled it out as predicted. At the end of the race, Istrice erupted in joy. People were crying all over—some in joy and others in despair. There was nothing but chaos all around. The Istrice paraded with the Palio, were blessed at San Provenzano with “new life” in a spiritual sense (which they display by wearing pacifiers for a week), and immediately the partying began. It appeared as if the Istrice contrada had multiplied several times over, but I am told that they are one of the biggest contradas of
Now that the July Palio is over it is time to begin preparation for the next one. I wasn't able to get to the Piazza Del Campo, but watched the picking of the final three racing contradas in the August Palio on televison with my roommate Kelly and Luciana, my host mother. Nicchio didn't race last year so they have another chance to win, and my poor host father was a bit upset when his Lupa (Wolf) contrada didn't make it in...Again!
But the end of the July Palio did usher a regular schedule with classes and homework for us. Italian class is rough but I do want to learn, so what’s better than a challenge? I really love my Immigration and Social Change class. There are only three of us in it and we have professor who seems to know her stuff. We are really forced to look at the best and worst of what
But don’t worry, because it’s not all work here. Friday and Saturday we went with the Language and Culture group to the coast. We learned that large groups of people is an attribute of an Italian beach, but it was wonderful nuotare (to swim) in the refreshing waters of the Mediterranean after a week of facing the worst of the summer. We visited the quaint beach towns, ate the best gelato, and had lots of fun. On the rough roads home, which were far, far worst than anything I’ve experienced in the mountains of
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