This evening was the second night of the three-night Festa della Rificolona which celebrates the birthday of the Virgin Mary. We arrived around 8pm at the Piazza S.S. Annunziata. I was immediately let down…there were three or four vendors selling various candies and balloons, several children running about with lanterns and multitudes of tourists. But by 9pm the square was filled with families and colorful paper lanterns hanging from sticks. Older children carried tubes through which they blew paper darts at the lanterns. The older children laughed, the younger children cried. At first I thought it was harmless fun—simply denting the careful accordion-folds in the paper—but then a dart penetrated the lamp in front of me tipping the flame inside and suddenly the smiling monkey head was set ablaze. How dramatic! The energy was palpable as the Cardinal of Florence processed in a corteo with a renaissance-costumed marching band. After many speeches about the importance of this holiday and the unity of Italy (at least those were the words that I picked up after my week and a half of Italian lessons), the children began to sing:
Ona! Ona! Ona!
Oche bella Rificolona,
La mial’è coi fiocchi
La mial’è coi pidocchi!
Ona, Ona Ona,
What a beautiful Rificolona
Mine with bows is tied
In yours do lice reside!
Earlier in the day, though, we visited Fiesole. It’s a small town right outside of Florence: clean, quiet and quintessentially Italian. There are Etruscan and Roman ruins (right on top of one another) of a temple, bathhouse and even a Roman theatre. I was so excited to know everything that the tour guide was telling us about the Roman theatre. Horray for Intro to Theatre class! Anthropologically speaking, it is an incredibly interesting sight. The Romans built right on top of the Etruscan buildings while copying over half of their building plans. I can’t help but wonder if they were thinking of the future and our interest in all of the different cultures. It seems so rare today to think of what future generations might think of us. Every once in a while, though, there is a gem of consideration—I am thinking of the Ponte Vecchio which, during WWII was ordered to be bombed but the pilot whose orders they were refused to do so, thinking of the history that the Ponte Vecchio held.
Oh, but that tangent proves to me that it is time for a nap (which makes me wonder why I chose Italy instead of Spain…how nice a siesta would be right about now). I feel I have been sprinting since I arrived in Florence! I’m looking forward to a free weekend (though it will have to be next weekend because this weekend holds a trip to Siena). So I will write again soon! Ciao.
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