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Published: June 10th 2007
Evo è! 1, 2, 3, 4... Evo è, più forte! EVO è! 1, 2, 3... EVO è! 1, 2, 3,
4, aspetta...EVO è! We practiced and listened to a disorganized older gentleman tell us Ragazzi! Ascolti! Ragazzi! Basta, silenzio!
Imagine the entire town of Monteveglio and surrounding hamlets' population of 15-25 year olds (totaling 20?) all dressed in costume, faces painted, becoming more intoxicated as the litres and bottles of wine get passed from person to person. They swear at the authority figure and call eachother profane but endearing names. The girls chat in slurred Bolognese accents. Not but a few hours ago I met some of these people and now we form a comraderie by dancing and screaming.
It started after my 8 km hike during the rainy Friday afternoon. I couldn't stand to be in the house for another minute. I grabbed a few euro, my notebook, phone, and camera. Donned a pair of brown pedal pushers, a bright coral shirt, tied my hair back, and laced up my hiking boots. Quite literally I strolled through the light rain and fog, but found the panoramics from Oliveto to Stiore, to Monteveglio very beautiful. Difficult to capture on film though because of the inclimate weather. Friday afternoon in every place was empty, an occasional old man taking a walk, or a gentleman fixing the doorbell or painting the exterior windows. Laundry hanging between every building and off verandas created random colors and patterns. Finally when I arrived in Monteveglio the sun came out from behind the clouds, and the streets began to dry.
I entered the town's center, bought an espresso and sat down. To my surprise I found William, the half Rasta half Italian guy from two weeks prior at Danni's disco. He said he was the President-of-the-DreAM-Club (small fib) which is the cool kid's group and was here to help arrange for the skate park opening. A GRAND event to be sure. Monteveglio and the surrounding area's first designated skate park and adolescent hang out. Congratulations, in the year 2007. The park itself consists of two, count them, two two-foot ramps and that's it. Amazing...
But back to Willi, he and his friends bought me a beer and we enjoyed more broken English at the cafè. He invited me up to the DreAM Club, which I'd seen before but didn't want to stomp on the President's graciousness. In the club are Andy, whom I've met before, and Viruz. Both painting plywood boards for the festival di Bacco. Viruz's unfolding beautifully, especially when I learn that they only have four paint colors since that's all they can afford. He's made a larger than life drunk diety, the facial structure and shading are impressive to say the least. They invited me to paint a half-goat-man on another sign that Viruz designed and I mediocrely butchered it. But no one said a thing, either they didn't know how in English, or they were being nice. Willi left to skate which left Andy, Viruz and I without a translator and me without my dictionary. We did all right. I managed to ask for a ride home so I wouldn't have to walk; then we all went to the inauguration ceremony.
The formalities were impressive and kind of laughable. The mayor wore a sash, standing directly behind him was a woman holding the seal of Monteveglio above his head. There was a television crew. I refamiliarized myself with the faces I saw two Saturdays ago, this time in sunlight and far less intoxicated. There was speech after speech but all I could focus on was the incredible perfume of the trees sprinkling petals on us from above. While everyone was paraded into the new Centro per Giovani I was taking pictures of a tree. When I went inside I saw a nice exhibit by a local girl and we spoke. Later that night in a drunken state she'd try to save me from no apparent danger, but I forgive her.
Viruz took me back to the farm so I could have dinner with the family. We talked about peacocks and their terrible noise, and the university in Bologna where he studies art. He's a very talented guy and very lucky. I think of great things to create but my hands can never manifest them, there always seems to be some kind of retardation.
In any case, I returned to the happening, hip skate park much to Danni's disapproval, viziato. He pissed and moaned all night long and ended up yelling at me in the car about my ability to understand Next to no Italian. What the spoiled brat doesn't realize is how heavy his Bolognese accent is and how his shit isn't going to cut it in the real world.
I spoke to lots of people, Willi played an impromptu jazz jam session for me, Andy, Viruz, and a few others. They're talented and entertaining people, I'm glad to have found them.
Saturday morning began early and Friday ended late. I reported to Claudio to get my schedule of activities and found six hours of vineyard pruning ahead of me. I put my disappointment aside, because I hoped to help with the festa; pushed through with hope and elation of the prosepect of having a few friends at the evening's activities.
I encountered ortica, stinging nettle, and erupted in uncomfortable itchiness. I sweat profusely because the sun beat down hard on the wet soil and created an oppressive humidity. The bugs were malicious. I sang 'You are my sunshine' because it was the only song I could think of, and it made me smile.
Daniele was supposed to take me to the festa, but SURPRISE, left without me. So I caught a ride with my Americani. They took me along for a two hour adventure of driving, driving, vineyards, driving, and finally an espresso in Basino? The espresso was necessary because I could not keep my eyes open and desperately wanted to. Between the 8 km walk and vineyards I had very little energy.
When I arrived at the Piazza, because there is only one in Monteveglio, I found my motely crew waiting to participate in the activities. The boys, signs in hand, were too busy calling eachother names to notice that no one was talking to me. I tried a few of the girls but they were all fifteen and I couldn't create conversation to hold their attentions. As I complained just slightly to Willi, a girl with tight light brown ringlets and a few dreds piled high on her head arrived with her strikingly beautiful friend with large brown eyes. Both my age and incredibly easy to talk to!! We all loaded the bus- to play unknown roles in the night's spectacles- and ascended to the Abbey.
Debora and I talked about boys and hung on eachother's arms for proximity and security in a place we were both foreign.
After chaos and instruction the show began. I was drunk and more than eager to lend my enthusiasm to the cause of BACCO GOD OF WINE. We danced, and screamed, marched to the beat of the percussions behind us. I belted out into the night air as we descended from the Abbey to the twon and got my first REAL look at the full night sky. Le stelle! Le stelle sono più bellisimi, oddio!
When we arrived at the bottom we filled the tents dancing and creating utter chaos. Finally Ilo and I were passing bottle back and forth, laughing and introducing ourselves to everyone. Claudio, surprised no doubt to see me in that state, who was also drunkenly elated handed me a new full bottle of wine, and passed one to his son. He grabbed one for himself and disappeared to create chaos with his own generation. Debora, Ilo and I created quite a bond in only a few hours and I felt full, happy, drunk, and exhilirated by the cultural bath I was swimming in. And proud, because I was satiated and it was no one's fault but my own.
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Dad
non-member comment
makin' friends & good times
What an entry... could not be a better Father's Day present than to know you're livin' large! What fun. The people you're meeting - you characterizations... they're just wonderful... what a diverse, talented and interesting bunch! Just watch that God of the Grape! hahaha I love you...