Sabato Santo/Pasqua

We had a bustling day, first shopping for some Easter things on a warm, beautiful, sunny day.

Once home, I got busy making Easter Fiadone, but I’ve been reading a lot of recipes for it from Molise locals, and they use two ingredients new to our recipe—olive oil and white wine. They’re in every single one. Every single contributor had these in the mix. So I tried a hybrid. And Fontinella isn’t available here, so I improvised.

I ended up with olive oil spilling all over the apron fronts that serve as lower cabinet doors, so my clean up included laundry. 

I feel much better today but not 100%. Super tired. So I took a nap. Afterward, I got to talk to both Lori and John. That was also a sunny part of the day!

Mariella texted Joe “Karen scendi subito,” come downstairs now, so I went. We just hung out; she was cooking the family’s dinner, and Vincenzo arrived home a bit later. I took Ettore and Tea upstairs for playtime. Matteo still won’t leave Nonna to come with me. And he’s now walking!

When I was at Mariella’s, Elena asked if we were going to Mass at the Mother Church tonight. Since I’m a Chreastern, who (sometimes) attends church on Christmas and Easter, I said yes. She asked if we’d mind going with Giovanna, since she’s alone. Of course not! We’ll stop and get her.

Ettore left with Elena, but Tea quite contentedly stayed. At 9:00, we hadn’t yet eaten, but calling from the bottom of the stairs was Giovanna, saying she’s ready to walk to the church. Good Lord! I thought Mass was at 10:30! I told her I need 10 minutes to change clothes; please come on up. She said she’d wait down there. I shimmied into a skirt over my jeans, trying to change while watching Tea, and threw on some lipstick. Mariella came to get Tea while I was in the bathroom, and then I ran down to find Giovanna. 

Not where I left her. I popped into Mariella’s. Just Vincenzo there. I went outside and called to Giovanna’s balcony. No answer. I ran back to the house to see if Joe were coming down the stairs yet. No. I rounded the block to Giovanna’s main door and rang the bell. I’m coming down, she said over the speaker. I ran back to look for Joe. He’s coming. We walked back to Giovanna’s as she was coming out the door. She asked if I wanted a heavy wool scarf; aren’t I cold? I’m sweating, I said.

We got to the church before 9:30. It. Was. Empty. 

Giovanna spotted Father Pino approaching, saying we’re all there for tonight’s Mass. He looked at his watch and smiled. It doesn’t start for an hour, he said.

Some nice woman came up to us as Giovanna was trying to show me how to light a (an electric) candle. The woman and I had it figured out. Just because it can’t hurt, I lit one for Laura Walsh and one for little Giorgio Giuliemo, both battling some pretty scary stuff.

The woman gave us a small art tour, complete with the stories behind each piece. She was interesting and sweet and it killed some time. People started drifting in. Giovanna proudly introduced us to everyone as The Americans, her friends. She’s constantly teasing, and is a lot of fun. I asked if she was a monela (rascal) when she was little. “Con corna,” she answered—with horns. She speaks just moderately fast, and pauses once in a while to ask “capito?” It’s paced, so we can actually have a conversation.

The Mass began with the priest and his entourage walking past us to go outside. What’s going on? Some people stayed, some followed him. Giovanna suggested we go out. There was a fire pit ablaze with the old palms as fuel. This both represents the first light of Christ’s resurrection, and the cleansing of old sins. The candle for the procession was lit from this fire. We choked a little on all the smoke!

Back into the almost dark church to watch them enter. 

Bad quality photo, but it’s all I’ve got.

Almost all lights are out or dimmed.

Giovanna introduced us to a man named Luigi, who sat behind us, again proudly displaying her Americans. Luigi’s wife and daughter joined him. They asked the usual questions—why Biancavilla, how long are you here, where exactly are you from? When Joe turned around, Luigi visibly gasped. I said, I know; his face is Sicilian. (He’s also great at elegantly dressing the part). Then I went on to explain where Joe’s grandparents are from. “I parenti sono come serpenti,” he said, and chuckled. I responded, laughing, so we’re like snakes?! And Giovanna explained I knew some Italian. His wife said, it’s just an expression (relatives are like snakes), with Luigi adding, smiling, “ma gli amici…” (but friends…). I said I agreed. At least with friends you have a choice!

A verrrrrrrry long, although lovely, Mass ensued. At one point, Joe whispered to me, “They’re going through the whole Bible tonight,” and Giovanna, who misses nothing, asked in a very loud whisper what Joseph just said. “È commovente,” I explained (it’s emotionally moving). I lied in church.

We came to the part where the altar curtain dropped and Jesus rose from the dead. They do enjoy the theatrical, as well as those purple back lights.

At one point, around 12:40, Giovanna asked a woman in front of us if she knew when it ended (Giovanna asked multiple times if I were stanchissima—extremely tired— which indeed I was, but I was also starving and it was my first day feeling human again). The woman responded, 1:15. I am embarrassed to say that an involuntary “Mamma Mia!” flew out of my mouth, yet I pride myself on it not being the F-word. The woman coldly informed me it’s Easter. 

The last part was cheerful, brightly lit, and we finally left, walking Giovanna home. We got into our place and I wolfed down every immediately available food within reach and then went to bed.

It’s Easter morning!