la mia Firenze

Six weeks of getting to know each other, and we've found love. She's taken me down her narrow streets. She's welcomed me to her prized churches. She's shared her warm sunshine. She's even revealed some of her flaws.

Firenze has freely shared her secrets with me. My careful heart, however, has been holding back. But today, all unwillingness was surrendered. I spilled il mio cuore to this dear city.

What began as reluctance against the seemingly obliged love has since morphed into my own genuine admiration.

Yesterday, as a class field trip, we journeyed to the Piazza Michelangelo area, to visit the beautiful Chiesa San Miniato. The trek consists of a lovely hill climb, leading to the remarkable vista.

So impressionable was this beautiful place that when I awoke this morning, I had it on my heart to return to it. So after class I made my way. This time, however, I was in no rush. Stops and detours welcomed.

This unanimous love for Firenze, as I mentioned earlier, wasn't one that was assumed by me. She had to woo me. And that she has.

During the uphill journey, I decided to stop on a side path that had previously captured my eye. This is the path to one of Firenze's hidden treasures... Giardino delle Rose.

I love venturing alone. It is then that I feel most the sweet company of God's beautiful creation.

This humble garden overlooks the postcard picturesque skyline. The dark green vines and trees of the garden confront the orange and creams of the city structures, and all this is embraced by the blue summer sky. The shot that stole my heart... and my breath (or maybe that was the steep climb up?).

Now, I know an encounter like this not one that is sought, rather it's one that reveals to you what you want before you even know to look for it. This flirtatious city is like someone you come to love, she shows you exactly what you need before you can define it.

I had been waiting for the proper invitation to declare my love for dear Firenze, and she finally shared it. The lively features of this town accompanied by such a compassionately understanding city view have officially succeeded in winning my heart.

Madonna di Carmelo- Pescasseroli

During my visit to Pescasseroli (Ann'a hometown in Abruzzo), the town celebrated the feast of La Madonna di Carmelo, July 16. The whole town, about 2000 people, gathered to honor Our Lady. La festa began Sunday night with a multi-part procession from one church to the other and Mass outside. Then, there was a beautiful fireworks show.

The next day, the feast day, people gathered again for Mass and for a procession through the town. The Confraternity, dressed in their Carmelite attire, accompanied by a band and the people of Pescasseroli walked through the small town singing beautiful Marian prayers.

I shared with my cousins how special it was for me to partake in this celebration. I tried to explain the specialty of an entire town stopping their daily routine to honor Our Lady. The beautiful souls of these small towns keep our Church alive.

As I walked along the faithful Pescasserolians, I meditated upon the beauty of such a way of life.

la bellezza del cibo

One of the most important components of life here in Italia is, of course, food. I've had the privilege of growing up with authentic southern Italian food. Nonetheless, I'm still amazed by the beautiful piatti I've enjoyed here. I'm trying my best to record some of my favorites, but I've failed in trying to capture a photo of each dish.

This is one of the prettiest (and most delicious) dishes I've had. This beautiful plate of raw fish was the final course of a wonderful pranzo in a small paese (country town) in Abbruzzo. The fish was accompanied by delicious olio, prezzemolo (parsley), zucchini, pomodori, and pepperoni (or as we call it in Cersosimo, puppacce (SP?)). On a warm day, this fish is quite refreshing!

Baccala is a fish eaten by most regions of Italy. It's prepared in different ways, depending on the region's style of cuisine.

Pellegrinaggio

There's so much to say about Roma! First of all, I must note my appreciation for the perspective I've obtained here in being able to compare cities, as a resident of one.

Firenze is full of life! There's a continuous flow of people, the Italians, the tourists, tutti. Buses pass carrying the people of the well-settled town to and fro. After only a few weeks, I've become well acquainted with the narrow roads of cara Firenze. My understanding of this place of residence, however, has been deepened by my meeting with Roma.

La capitale hit me like a ton of tufo (Roman rock). It gave me a sensation that no novice American city could ever give.

Amongst the modern businesses, designer fashion, bus stops, and gelaterie stand the remaining structures of the great empire. Millions of people go about their routines, generation after generation, era after era. And still, these structures stand, witnesses to passing centuries. It's incredible. The size and stature of these fantastic artifacts support the reality of their antiquity.

As I stood in front of these Roman spectacles, I felt this deep desire to obtain any scrap of empathetic connection with those that walked the streets during the time of the great empire. The Romans, and those who dared to enter Rome's well protected walls, utilized these grand structures. Now there's certainly tremendous pride in the Roman successes, but I wonder if the common folk of the empire recognized the astonishing feat of such development. I try to picture the every day routine that accompanied these constructions.

To describe these structures as full of life seems almost insufficient. But I dare not call them gods.
 
Now there are obviously thousands of pages of history passed in the ignorantly general statements I've given. Nonetheless, this idea of creating for gods and later for the Almighty God, leads me to the heart of this architectural commentary. La Basilica di San Pietro.

One of the best parts about this place of devotion is that it exists in the presence of the surrounding modern vita Romana.

Mario, Anna, Francesco (my wonderful cugini) and I stepped up out of the metro station and began our journey to the holy place. We passed shops and people, more shops and more people until the columns were in sight. Madonna! Molte farfalle in my stomach.

Grazie to the wise planning of the Calabreses, we stood in line for only a short while. Then we were there, at the welcoming doors. I stepped in with my head tilted, as to not miss an inch. Immediately to my right was the warm embrace of Our Blessed Mother holding our Savior. La Pietà.

Eventually we made our way to the catacombs below, and there I saw the lovely image of Our beautiful Lady of Guadalupe - my first meeting with her in Italy. La Madonna is everywhere, but Our Lady of Guadalupe is not common to Italia. To see her there was so special, a moment of excitement and great peace.