Pray For Peace - Then Go to War

No, this is not a post about politics. As the events of La Quintana continue to unfold, this week's most unique ceremony was a gorgeous affair that was sparsely attended. For some reason the word hasn't really gotten around about the tradition that took place yesterday, Il Saluto della Madonna della Pace.


The Salute to the Madonna of Peace takes place in the little Piazza of Sant'Agostino. Regal representatives of each of the six sestieri marched in, always to the rhythmic drum-beats of the musicisti, their distinctive banners waving in the breeze. Once they were solemnly assembled in front of the Romanesque church of from which the piazza takes its name, the smell of incense reached our noses. It grew stronger, and we watched as the church's masterpiece and source of great veneration among the citizens of Ascoli was brought to the door. The painting, the Madonna della Pace, is said to be the source of peace for this area. In ages past when the city-states were constantly at each other's throats, this painting was said to have brokered peace among warring factions.

The participants bowed and saluted the painting, asking the Madonna for continued peace as the priest gave a benediction over the horses and riders who are to participate in the giostra. Then a serious-faced child, intent on performing his duty well, came forward to present a bell to the church. In return he was given a framed print of the all-important painting. The official statutes of this event, written into the charter of La Quintana and dating back to the 1300s were read aloud from a city official on horseback. Then a plumed hat was inverted and small scrolls with the names of each of the sestieri incribed were placed inside. The mayor extracted them one by one, reading them off to determine the order of participation for the joust.

The woman standing next to us showed her displeasure immediately. Her sestiere of Porta Tufilla was drawn second. "No! Che schifo!" Showing my ignorance I told her that I would have thought going second was a good thing, but she explained that you want to be third or fourth. If you go first, you have nothing to gauge yourself on, no time you must beat. If you go last, the cavaliere could get too nervous watching the time and performance of everyone else. Best to go in the middle, she said. She should know. She's been attending these events for forty years.

She taught us the ultimate insult to yell out to the sestiere you despise most (in her case, as with many people we know, it's Porta Solesta`). Because the participants march out of the jousting arena after the event in the order of placement, those with the lowest score go last. "They must close the door after them," she said. Giggling, she says that she yells out to the potential losers, "Hey boys...do you have the keys?" Emotions run deep in this competition.

Tonight, following the grand parade, is the giostra. The six city districts will be battling it out for the Palio and bragging rights. I guess that is why they beseech the Madonna for peace...right before they go to war.

(In case you're wondering, my money is on Luca Veneri, the cavaliere for our old 'hood of Piazzarola.)

Knight Time

Suddenly, walking around Ascoli is like a stroll through the days of old, when knights served the city and the different sestieri were each responsible for the defenses of their sections of town. La Quintana, Ascoli's medieval games which have been carried out since the 1200s, has kicked off with a bang...or more accurately, with a trumpet blast. The piazzas are brightened with vibrant splashes of color and are filled with the differing drumbeats and trumpet tunes unique to each sestiere.

Last night, I found my knight in shining armour. These three fine fellows do the city proud, wouldn't you say? If the clothes make the man, then armour makes them absolutely striking!


This new musician was beaming with pride to be a part of the civic band heralding the event and leading the sbandieratori to the piazza for their competition. What a cutey!


The flag-throwing competition is my favorite event, particularly the grande squadra. The sestiere's musicians move in perfectly-choreographed formations among the flags which are being launched in all directions. They demonstrate a mastery of skill and precise timing. We now reside in Porta Maggiore, so we rooted for our underdogs, who put on a beautiful performance. Their choreography was the most complicated and intricate, but unfortunately they didn't bring home the Palio. (They placed third overall.)


Following the competition, the winners are announced, the Palio is awarded, and the teams parade out of the piazza in the order of placement, a long tradition which allows the citizens to see how their teams fared.

This is just the beginning. We have a month of contests and events to look forward to, giving us lots of opportunity to be a part of these gorgeous traditions still being carried on. Not to mention the chance to hang out with the knights. Viva La Quintana!

More about La Quintana:
Men in Tights
Wanted: A Palio Winner

The Sagra and i Soci

As you already know, we're sagra enthusiasts. We love the home-spun events that bring people together over plates of good, cheap food and music that is usually the equivalent of a B-movie. Like has-beens from the 80s that are now touring the State Fairs, we've noticed that many of the bands seem to make the rounds, playing the 'sagra circuit'. But hey, it's free entertainment and for us, it's all about the food. And the cameraderie.

In our sagra experience, we've found that people are generally congenial and, at nearly every festival we've attended, we've had someone chat with us and offer us wine from their pitcher. "E troppo," they tell us. I have too much wine for just the two of us, take some. Since Italians don't feel a meal is complete without wine, they always buy a liter. Since most of them drink only a glass or two, they know they'll not consume it all, so it's customary to offer some to whoever happens to be sitting nearby.

Such was the case Saturday at the opening night for the sagra in the Porta Romana district. Their annual festival centers on mezze maniche all'Amatriciana and those little grilled critters I like so much, arrosticini. Mezze maniche is a type of pasta I'd never seen in the US, at least not under that name. Short sleeves is the literal translation. Turns out they are basically your run of the mill rigatoni. This particular sagra makes good renditions of both specialties, but we've found the kitchen to be rather slow. It didn't help that we arrived on opening night while they were still trying to get organized.

As we sat at our table stewing at the slowness (as well as from the heat), we noticed an older man next to us doing the same. He was alternatingly fanning himself, and bouncing his right hand up and down with his finger drawn together...a classic Italian gesture that indicates "what the hell is the hold-up" and such-like sentiments. He got up and talked with someone behind the counter. He threw his hands up in the air and came back to sit and wait. He had his eyes resolutely set on the kitchen area and didn't give a sidewards glance in our direction. We noticed this only because there were not too many people yet and because the wait was, as I mentioned, rather long, leaving us rather bored.

Finally a few numbers, including ours, were belted out over an insanely-loud microphone, causing everyone to jump. We retrieved our food and dug in. Our neighbor went for his meal and returned with a liter of white wine. That's when he gave us some notice and was horrified to see that we not only hadn't ordered any, but sitting there on our table was a glass of beer. Beer! Mah! Pour that out and give me your glass, he said. We passed him the plastic cups we'd procured to hold water. He filled them up, saying he had a friend behind the counter who had given him the wine. Drink some...it's much better for you that beer. Piu leggero, it's lighter. Better for the digestivo.

Naturally we got to talking as we dined. He was stunned to hear that we are Americans, that we live in Ascoli and that we're appassionati about sagras. He's lived in the Porta Romana district for years and years. This became evident as people entering the tent would call out his name and greet him. He kept pouring wine we didn't need, and at the end of the meal he ushered us up to the counter to introduce us to his benificient friend (who, it turned out, was actually his son-in-law). He bought us caffe and wished he had his own home-made liquore to make them corretti. He continually cursed the fact that none of his cronies had bothered to show up for opening night. He wanted them to meet us, could we come again for dinner together...his treat? Ma certo! we said.

We rode our bikes home, bumping through the cobbled streets ringing our bells madly for no other reason that it was fun to do so. The bell on Bryan's rickety-sounding but sturdy bike makes a hearty bring-bring type of tone. Mine is a wimpy little ping. All the way across town we echoed out the little chorus. Bring-bring. Ping. Ciao amici, a friend called out as we rode by. Bring-bring. Ping ping.

Tuesday we had a sagra encore when we met Ezio and his friends. We had an evening of lots of laughter and too much food, too much wine, too much gelato (yes it's possible to get too much!) He and his friend Guido both uncorked bottles of home-brewed mistra, that fire-water concoction that will burn a hole in your stomach. I had to pretend to taste it, but no way was I going to swallow that liquid inferno.

They were all so very sweet, inviting us to partake in horseback riding and a grape harvest. This is so typical in Italy...we just met them, yet they were so immediately accepting because their friend said we're okay.

By the end of the evening they declared us soci, members of Porta Romana, even though we live in a sestiere across town. By this definition, they tell us, we will be included in other events because we are soci in their circle. All because we sat down to dine and accepted a glass of free wine. And people wonder why we love the sagras?

A Goodbye to Grams

When I returned from the States, I'd promised to write more about my grandmother. As I started working on a blog entry about her, it turned into a longer article. I decided to dedicate my monthly column on Slow Travel, Living Slow in Italy, to her.

My tribute to my grandmother, Bittersweet Journeys, is now posted online.

I had also previously written about her here and here.

Vivo Ancora!

Yes, I'm still alive! The chickadee is back in the nest, recovering slowly from the nasty cold that befell me while visiting my hometown. Why is it that I get sick each and every time I set foot in Ohio? Boh.

I have had a hard time getting motivated since my return. With the virus thing going on, my energy level has been low...and the sudden slap of summer hasn't helped that any. The day after we returned the cooler-than-normal temps fled for the hills and the muggy air descended like a hot blanket. Brilliantly clear skies mean plenty of scorching sun...which as a former desert-dweller I can handle, but it's the humidity that kills me. If the actual heat itself wasn't enough to signal to us that summer was officially here, the deserted streets this weekend would have tipped us off. We walked into the piazza on Sunday at high noon, which is usually the absolute height of the passeggiata, to find...oh, maybe ten people, tops. Everyone had turned tail and ran for the beach. Except us and a straggling of foreign visitors.

The other sure sign of summer is that sagra season is upon us! Hooray, because I love me a good sagra. We've already been to two. The Festa della Sacra Spina seems to kick it off, so we made sure to attend and procure another bottle of private label vino. We have our sights set on a couple more that will be taking place over the next few weeks.

I am still catching up on sleep, feeling zapped. I've had several writing projects that I should be working on and have been lazily putting off (but really need to get cracking on them this week). And I worked on a very exciting project for a Hollywood production company for a special DVD release of the film Roman Holiday. (Exciting, huh??)

That's what's been happening in the ol' Pinon Tree. Life is slowly getting back to normal.

A special thanks to you all for your kind words of consolation sent through your comments and emails. They were very sweet and comforting, and I appreciate your thoughts, prayers, and friendships. Bloggers rock!

A Wedding and a Funeral

I had good intentions. I had written several posts that I was going to slip in during my absence. I brought some photos that would have cleverly juxtaposed with scenes here that I planned to post, too. That was before I left Italy.

While our primary purpose in coming to the US was to attend a wedding, we ended up also attending a funeral. My beloved grandmother passed away on June 5.

I was blessed to spend time with her before she died, to see her and let her know how much I loved her. She was much declined but still quintessentially Grams, and being with her before she died set my mind very much at peace. I had a little time to adjust to the thought of life without her here. I was very close with her and already miss her tremendously.

I've written about Grams several times before, and I will write more about her when I've had time to process it all and gather my thoughts. It's been a whirlwind of activity with far-flung family members arriving and departing.

We leave this evening to fly back to Italia. I'm exhausted and drained emotionally. It will be a few days before I get reacclimated to my life, renewed and readjusted to the European time zone. I'll be back in the nest again soon, but I also need to get over the nasty cold I'm fighting and get caught up on sleep before returning to the blog.

Until then, I want to share this poem I found among my grandma's clippings. It sums up her life (and life philosophy) beautifully.

CHARITY

Do something today to bring gladness

To someone whose pleasures are few

Do something to drive off sadness-

Or cause someone's dreams to come true.

Find time for a neighborly greeting

And time to delight an old friend;

Remember-the years are fleeting

And life's latest day will soon end.

Do something today that tomorrow

Will prove to be really worthwhile;

Help someone to conquer sorrow

And greet the new dawn with a smile.

for only through kindness and giving

Of service and friendship and cheer,

We learn the pure joy of living

And find heaven's happiness here.

Where I Hang Out

Ever wonder where I hang out when I am lurking online? Oh sure, I spend a lot of time reading blogs. Waaay too much time, in fact. But I also have a surplus of sites to visit in my downtime, purely for entertainment value.

SAGP (Self-Appointed Grammar Police). Geeky it may be, but my inner editor adores this site. In case you're wondering, I think tickets should be issued for offensive grammatical offenses online. I see far too many of them, even on high quality websites. I want to take a red pen to them, if red ink could reach through cyberspace.

Continuing with the language geek theme, the Etymology Dictionary is fun and educational. Fun being relative, of course. Bryan would not enjoy this site in the least.

Travel is a passion around the Pinon Tree so I spend an inordinate amount of time perusing the trip reports and travel notes on Slow Travel. I also enjoy the vacation rental reviews and the message board so this site is sort of like my neighborhood coffee bar.

JibJab. There's nothing like a little dose of political satire to start the day and these guys dish it up nicely.

Tecnocasa. A girl can dream, can't she? Back home I used to visit builders' model homes and housewares megastores; now I peruse the online market looking for a bargain. Hey, you never know; I just my see cute cottage for a song.

When I have a hankering, I scope these sites for recipes: New Mexican (when I have a stash of green chile); Lucanian (when I want a taste of the Motherland); Turkish (when I'm craving those Middle Eastern flavors); and Sandwiches (because sometimes I still want a quick, easy lunch).

Because I'm rather bookish and love to read, I spend a great deal of time on Amazon. If you want to peek at some of my favorites visit my A-Store.

In an attempt to keep current with and make sense of what is going on in this fast-paced, constantly-changing world I seek out (relatively) unbiased news at EuroNews, the Christian Science Monitor, and NPR.

I also still take a peek now and then at the HGTV site. Can't help myself. And who can't use tips on blinging a bath or kitchen back-splashes?

So what about you? Where do you hang?