Luminara

Every year Pisa has a huge celebration called Luminara.  It is here, Pisans celebrate their Saint, Ranieri.  They also get off their rocker drunk, and put on a pretty good show.  This was my first Luminara, and WOW was  I stunned.  The entire town comes to life in unity to celebrate a holy person. It lights up like Christmas to celebrate something saintly, but not Christ himself.  I'm still learning.

Weeks before the Luminara, preparations are made.  Huge white wood frames must go on all the windows along the Arno River.  Thousands of candles must be lit, by about 400 city workers.

 

The late afternoon fills the streets with people. All hoping to get some festival food. Sliced ham, as thin as possible, without a machine.  Keebabs.  Candies.  Mojitos. Bira. And the heat brings, l'acqua.



I pass the hours slowly sitting on the wall along the river, people watching, reading, enjoying.  Moment by moment more people arrive, and I become all the more intrigued.

I am astounded by how much Italian I begin to understand, as mouths all around me talk about their excitement, their joy to celebrate with family, their happiness to be together.  I am temporarily sad to be alone in a foreign country, leaving my friends and family behind.  They will miss this celebration, just as I will miss celebrations with them. Then, just as quickly as the feeling came, it passed, leaving only thrill.

The sole begins to set behind the city. The candles begin to be seen.  I am in awe by the work that goes into this.  Not string Christmas lights that Americans complain enough about, but thousands of hand lit candles.  When it really counts to take time and do something right, Italians are experts.

And then, a great celebration happens.  Then people all appreciate the same thing.  Then I melt into Pisa.  The people, the food (which I possibly melt into, to well,) the language, the culture.  It is Luminara.

 

Tonight I became part of my city.  A celebration I had never heard of in the US, became my city, my celebration.  I fit in.  I know the good places to eat.  I know the bus system.  I know the surrounding city.  I ride the bus with my students, (which I hope I never say again when I move back to the US.)  Tonight was a night of bellissima.