Some ceremonies ... and their respective receptions

So yesterday, though historically a very important day, did not bring much excitement to me here in Italy. For most of the day, I was either waiting in my host mother's office in the hospital in Vicenza, or helping out my host father with some yard work.


We did, though, attend a 9/11 remembrance ceremony at a nearby Palladian villa. For those of you who do not know who Andrea Palladio was, he was a 16th century Italian Renaissance architect who designed a plethora of villas and other buildings in and around the city of Vicenza. He is actually so renowned that his work is the bulk of what makes “Vicenza and the Palladian Villas of the Veneto” a UNESCO World Heritage site. Anyways, this ceremony to honor the events and heroes of September 11, 2001 took place at one of his more famous villas located a few kilometers west of Vicenza. At the ceremony, various notable people from the region spoke about 9/11 and about the brotherhood between Italy and America as well as how the terrorists attacks also hurt the Italians. Also present there were the American consul from Milan and various United States Army personnel that are stationed at the large base in Vicenza (which is the head camp for all American operations in Africa). After they all spoke, a mandolin orchestra played various Italian classical pieces.

The Palladian Villa lit up during the mandolin orchestra concert.

The garden in front of the villa.

Once this was all over, there was a reception in a nearby courtyard for all the people who had attended this event. It was interesting to see how people segregated within the group. It seemed as if all of the Italians were in large circles making lots of noise, while the Americans were typically in smaller groups speaking quietly. It might be cultural differences, but I suspect that it is probably because the Americans were there to mourn a sad day in history, while the Italians were probably there for the buffet of good food and unlimited wine. But that might also be over-generalized. I did get to meet General Hogg, the American in charge of the Vicenza base, as well as a very kind couple (that also works on the base) who might be able to facilitate my use of an APO box so that I am only paying American postage, as opposed to international. I am not sure if this will work out or not, but it would be nice.

Early in the morning today, my host mother Cristina and my older host sister Giuditta, left for Madrid. They will be there until Friday because Cristina has some sort of medical conference.
At ten in the morning, Oscar, Osvaldo, Maria, and I went to church here in Longare. Before arriving, I was wondering to myself whether it would be more like church in the United States or in Mexico, two totally different approaches to the Catholic mass. At the beginning of mass, I thought it would be exactly like mass in Mexico. The church was huge, incense was burning, and even the music playing was the same as what they play in Mexico.
After a certain point in mass, when the priest gives his sermon (which usually indicates that mass is about halfway through), I looked at my watch. It read 10:41, which is pretty late for being halfway through what typically lasts an hour. Well, what typically lasts an hour in the United States. In Mexico, on the other hand, mass is usually close to done by then. I do not know how they do it, but Mexican priests are able to chop a good ten to fifteen minutes off of every service without omitting any part of mass. This is when I realized that Italian mass was not going to be like in Mexico. About twenty minutes later, during communion, I saw that the priests were placing the hosts in people’s hands, not on their tongues (like they do in Mexico). When mass finally ended at about 11:17, they told us to go visit the banquet hall in the back since they were hosting a goodbye party for a priest that was leaving later this week. This is also not Mexican at all. So I guess that it was not going to be that easy for me to classify Italian mass as either like American mass or Mexican mass – I was going to have to make a third category. Oh, and on our way out of church, the priest stood guarding the door, making sure that nobody left church without first giving him his proper greeting. He would shake your hand, and then you would give him a kiss on each cheek. Well, more like an air-kiss with your cheek next to his. It is not as creepy as it sounds, I swear.
Immediately after going to the reception, we got in the car, and Oscar said, “Andiamo a vedere la nonna,” or “Let’s go see the grandmother.” Two days before, I had met Cristina’s parents, who live about five minutes away. We got in the car and Oscar said we were going to try a different route because he thinks the GPS will get us there faster. While Osvaldo messed around with the GPS, I wondered why we would take another route to somewhere that is a direct path from the house. We started driving and it seemed like Oscar had lost his mind. “What is he doing?” I thought to myself. After about an hour of this confusion, I see a sign that says Treviso, and I remember that I had heard something about Oscar growing up in Treviso. “Oh, I guess they have another set of grandparents,” I told myself. I really felt stupid. At least I hadn’t said anything about it. We got to her house and I met the very nice old lady. After being there for about fifteen minutes, we all got in the car. I wondered why the grandmother was coming back with us. This was really confusing. So as we pull out of her street, Oscar makes a right, instead of the left he should have made to go back to Vicenza. We were on the road towards Trieste and Venice. I was extremely confused. So I finally asked where we were going and that answered a lot of questions.
We ended up in a town called Fontanelle. Though officially still part of the Veneto region of Italy, now that I look at a map, we were closer to Slovenia then we were to Vicenza. We got there and waited outside of a church for a little while along with lots of other people and a marching band. Then a procession of flag-bearers, dignitaries, and priests came out of the church and walked to a nearby statue that was draped with a bluish purple cloth. It was a statue of Padre Marco d’Aviano, a Capuchin friar who preached throughout the Veneto region. For about two and a half hours, the various priests and dignitaries spoke about this remarkable man, with the marching band playing occasionally between speakers. Marco d’Aviano, who was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 2003, helped win the 1683 Battle of Vienna against the oncoming Ottoman Turks. Supposedly, he waved a crucifix at the Turks, and prayed for this unlikely victory, which eventually came. It is also said that he invented the Cappuccino after this decisive battle, though that cannot be confirmed. So the town of Fontanelle decided to make a statue that would be unveiled today, hundreds of years after the Battle.

The marching band.

A nice view of the bronze statue.

From left to right: me, Osvaldo, the grandmother, and Oscar in front of Marco d'Aviano.

Some abandoned brass instruments during the reception.

As with the two previous events, this unveiling of the statue had a nice reception afterwards. Apparently Oscar’s mother had contributed to the making of this statue and was therefore invited to the ceremony.


Tomorrow I start school in Vicenza where I will probably have to study a lot to keep the decent grades that are a condition for this exchange. I will therefore probably not be able to write as many, and as long of blog articles. I will try my hardest to keep everybody posted.