Buona Pasqua

After much sleep (probably too much), some well-received solitude, and absolutely no more drawing this weekend, I rose like a phoenix from my dark conte ashes and was able to rejoin my fellow humans just in time to celebrate Easter.  The whole Easter weekend here in Orvieto was a lovely tradition of color, worship and fellowship.  On Good Friday most of us students made our way over to San Giovanale, where we attend mass on Sundays, for the 9 pm Stations of the Cross ceremony.  Even though I couldn’t understand any of the stations (with the exception of words such as “first”, “second” etc.) I found the whole night to be lovely.  Every person was given a long candle, like the ones we use in the states to sing “silent night” on Christmas Eve, but about 8 times longer.  The candles had flowers made out of colorful wax paper that made different colors bounce around the whole community.  Once all of our candles were lit we followed the cross, and the man with the giant loudspeaker mounted on a pike, out the back door of the church and around the streets of Orvieto.  We stopped every few minutes to hear another station, listen to some nuns sing, and chant responsive prayers such as the Lord’s Prayer and several others that I didn’t quite understand (most of them dedicated to Mary).  Through the tight streets shutters and windows opened above our heads to reveal fellow Orvietani people leaning out of the homes with their own candles lit to silently observe the procession. They quietly joined in the singing and waved at neighbors passing below.   My favorite part was the point where I looked behind me and saw a stream of people coming down the hill behind me, lit splendidly in a rainbow of colors.  It was beautiful. 

Naturally, any tradition like this isn’t some otherworldly glamorous spectacle.  With at least a few hundred people there, it’s bound to bear human traits as well as heavenly, and Friday definitely delivered.  I found myself walking the streets with mothers who stopped every 2 minutes to argue with their children, kids with toy guns, old men who do nothing other than leer from the side of the wall, neighbors who slammed doors and blared the TV when they heard us coming and the constant threat of fiery doom to the flowers and clothes of those around me. At one point, the old man in front of me managed to light his entire paper on fire, at which point his petite, wiry wife put out the flame, confiscated all easily flammable products from her husband’s person, and gave him a child’s candle within about 2 seconds.  Some reactions are really cross-cultural, it made me smile. 

            Saturday there was a midnight service in the Duomo, which I opted out of in favor of some rest, but Sunday was lovely.  We all dressed up and headed to San Giovanali, which was packed.  They really pulled out all the stops for Easter – maybe that is a Catholic thing, but to inexperienced students like me it seemed quite formal.   I was fortunate enough to snag a seat near the front in a row of little old Italian women dressed in their Sunday best, who all managed to look quietly scandalized when I crossed my legs and they saw my knee, but that is another matter.  The choir was full and had definitely done their homework; every action was accompanied by choral music and responses.  Unfortunately, every action was also accompanied by incense. While I understand that the stuff has religious connotation, it smells absolutely wretched.  For about 5 minutes after each time they would carry it out I would find my eyes watering, nose running, and all systems were down.  This was then followed by the priest walking down the main aisle on which I was seated, sprinkling the congregation with holy water.  Other than that, I really liked the service, regardless of the fact that the only thing I could understand was the Lord’s prayer.  During the offering, the choir members that were in our program sang “Christ the Lord is Risen Today” which was a real blessing; it was lovely to finally hear something in my own language!

After church we booked it back to San Paolo because we had been promised a pancake brunch – which actually turned into a 3-4 hour pancake/fruit/Easter egg hunt/ eggs extravaganza. It was fantastic.  The whole Doll family was there, and both of our new professors’ families came out for the fun.  There are 9 kids now: The English professor, Stevick, has a 3-year-old son named Winn, and an infant daughter named Yelena (Yuh-lay-nuh. But her real name is Madeline). Our painting professor hails from Geneva, and his children only speak French and Swiss German.  However he and his wife, Stephanie, speak English very well.  For some reason she reminds me a lot of my aunt Jane, she jumped right in with the student group and made fast friends with all of us.  Their daughter, Adele, is 7 and was shocked when a few of us were able to address her in French.  Their son, Zachary, is 4 and couldn’t care less if we could speak his language so long as we would play soccer with him. Pardon me, futbol.  We all took turns playing with the kids, helping out with the Easter egg hunt, and cooking the pancakes.  It was a perfectly lovely was to spend the holiday. I think it was especially lovely because it reminded each of us what it felt like to be with our own families during the holidays and most students shared memories or traditions that they had from childhood. 

I hope all of you had a wonderful Holy Weekend, and enjoyed time with friends and family.  I miss you all, but am incredibly blessed to be in Italy.  It’s been 2 months s(to the day!) and I can still hardly believe that I am actually here!! It feels so natural, almost like being a resident alien, not that I actually know what that would be like.  We’re already half way through our semester, but it feels like we just got off the plane last week!