I can’t think of a better place to be on a Monday evening than in Piazza Maggiore. In front of the Cathedral (that is only half finished. The bottom part is in elegant coral pink and gray marble, the upper is in gnarly brick. But I think it fits perfectly with Bologna – beautiful, grand and stately but just a little bit different from the rest.) The summer is coming to Bologna quickly. The past days here the sun has been that noticeable heat, the kind that makes you say, “dang, it’s hot!” instead of, “awww don’t you love Italy on sunny days like this?” Today was no exception. I spent the whole day in the library from 9 until 6, and everyone in the Archiginnasio was sitting by the windows, fanning themselves, trying to focus as the temperature kept rising. Now at 8 pm its still sunny, but the breeze has picked up, and it is just lovely. And where better to be than at Piazza Maggiore where all the crazies gather telling you they are the communist solution to Berlusconi, where all the pigeons waddle and wait for potato chips, where people meet for a Spritz or a glass of wine, to shop, to relax, to strum a guitar. We sit under the watch of castles, cathedrals, and government buildings from as early as 1200 and catch up over an espresso. This life is not hard to enjoy.
I had to play catch-up today in the library. I’m feeling a little down to the wire. I have discovered more libretti than I had planned in my preliminary research. What’s more is these musical drammas are also longer than I expected. So little by little I type away and slim the list down. Today I checked one libretti off the list, some twenty to go. And why I was productive today was because I took the “weekend Italiano.” Friday evening I went out with a few friends I’ve made hear in Bologna to a pub near Piazza Maggiore. Then when that closed we went to a very hip very chic bar and mingled with Italy’s young and fabulously dressed. After that what did we do? We went to a birthday party at a villa up in the hills of Bologna, of course. It smelled divine, rose bushes, and other delicious aromas made the villa even more like a fairytale. But for the birthday boy it’s just home. Sometimes I forget that it’s no big deal living in a villa with a fantastic view of the city below… Then Saturday night I joined my friends at Andrea’s house, also looking over Bologna and all the hills surrounding for an evening dinner. Then it was to a fantastic club in the park for drinks, and dopo to a discoteca. I found myself struggling to keep up in those wee hours when my amici italiani seemed on top of their game. I don’t know how they manage to have all this fun all the time. Anyways, when Sunday rolled around, I had no choice but to take a lazy Sunday in the spirit of my weekend italiano.
Yesterday was my first Sunday in Bologna. Instead of flying the coup on Sundays and seeing more of the country, my inner voice told me to stay put, I only have three more days here, what’s the rush?! So I woke up late, ate two too many pastries, and took a walk. I have made a deal with myself to walk a different way every time I go somewhere. I started this to get to know the city a little bit better. One time this deal of mine led me to the heat of an Italian lovers’ quarrel. Therefore on Sunday I decided to take a completely new street I had never walked before – Via Casteglione – which to my contentment led me to the Giardini Margherita. There is a lake with fountains, where an abundance of turtles swim, cafes an icecream stands, places to play basketball or tennis, and great big green spaces. I only staid a bit, my tummy started to demand gelato. And as if I was going to resist.
Staying true to my “every way’s a new way” I took Via delle Poeti from Via Casteglione which surprisingly led me to a Via that I had been to the day before. Saturday I took a “giro” (not to be confused with a gyro…) with my friend Francesco who showed me every important site on the east side of the city (the oldest wall in the city built in 1000, a castle, an important church, the best gelato in Bologna… yatta yatta yatta). On our giro we came to this Via where a very holy tradition was about to take place. From all the windows hung red and gold banners or displayed white lilies. Over loud speakers a priest gave a blessing, which as Francesco told me, all the Italians learn in the womb. And outside of a church sat the most adorable Italian ladies and gentlemen, reverently awaiting the march of the Madonna from San Luca to this Church where the crowd was gathered. This is a very important day for Bolognesi, or for practicing Catholics – and those who want to know the weather. Let me explain. The legend has it that every year they parade the Madonna it rains either the day of, the day before, or the day after. Saturday happened to be rather pleasant, but infact it did sprinkle for about 5 minutes the day before, so I guess the legend still stands. We didn’t stay to actually see the Madonna being paraded, but none the less it is always puts a smile on my face to see culture and traditions living and breathing here in Bologna.
… My lazy Sunday finished in Piazza Maggiore where an Italian in his 50’s was wearing acid wash, skin tight jeans, and a muscle tee playing karaoke guitar to something poppy spin on ACDC. His electric guitar was hooked up to his motorcycle, which supported his mixer and stereos, and behind the motorcycle was his posse, another 50 something Italian rocker head banging and grooving. Just a few meters away was the Grandfather of Peace. He wore a white visor with words of peace written on the brim. He also wore a white cape, which also posted his words of peace. On his tiny itty-bitty white Fiat there was a giant paper mache globe and dove, the sides hung signs saying “I am a 87 grandfather traveling around Italy for peace.” On the hood rested a cornucopia. This grandfather came up to me, waving a corn cob, chuckled and mumbled something like, “la musica e’ fantastica” … was he talking about those motorcycle rockers?! Then he mumled somem more Italian through a giant grin, waved his corn cob high, and bellowed, “Pace!” And just a few meters into the piazza was a Turkish family playing the electric fiddle. There a guy danced with a sign that side “Find me on Youtube, Zion Music” haven’t followed that one up yet… and meanwhile the Turkish ladies shimmied and shaked to the fiddle. And just a few meters from that an elderly gentleman was setting up his puppet show stand. It was a Sunday evening variety show, something for all ages!
And I am holding these memories dearly as the thought of leaving Bologna Wednesday morning is something I don’t really want to think about.
