I've had many memorable moments in Italy, but my most magical memory is from the year 2000. I was with my husband and two sons - celebrating my older son's graduation from high school and his impending first year of college. A trip to Italy is always memorable, but on this trip each moment seemed more precious and poignant as we prepared for the fact that this could possibly be the last family trip with just the 4 of us.

One day we drove past fields of grapes and sunflowers until we arrived in Siena. The central square was golden in the late afternoon light and the winding, narrow streets beckoned with their cool shade. We walked the ancient streets, the breeze feeling like the breath of ghosts who had walked these streets for hundreds of years. We were anxious to see the Duomo we had read about, but after climbing the stone steps we found the massive wooden doors locked. Disappointed, we headed to Osteria Il Ghibellino for a sumptuous dinner. When we left the restaurant, satiated on delicious food and wine, the sky was turning purple and there was a barely perceptible sound of singing in the air. It was so faint that we weren't sure if it was singing or just the sound of the wind sighing. After a few moments, the sound seemed closer and was clearly singing or chanting. We began to follow the sound through the alleyways until we finally came upon a procession. It was led by priests in white robes. The priests in front held up a white and golden canopy on poles - those that followed swung containers of incense that filled the air with a spicy scent. Behind them shuffled hundreds of followers chanting in unison. Their hypnotic voices filled the narrow street and echoed off the stone walls rising on either side. The air was hazy with the smoke of the incense and the dust that rose from hundreds of feet moving over ancient stones. It seemed like a dream. We had no idea what the occasion was, but we joined the procession and felt carried along like a current in a river. The procession led to the Duomo. This time the priests climbed the massive steps and the wooden doors opened.

The beauty of the interior left me speechless. I'm sure the Duomo is always magnificent with its marbled floors and columns, its vivid frescoes and sculptures, its altars and stained glass windows. But at this moment it was especially magical - lit with hundreds of candles, filled with intoxicating incense and chanting. But the thing I couldn't take my eyes off of was the domed ceiling. It was painted like a deep blue sky filled with golden stars. In the center of the dome was an opening surrounded by cherubs leading souls to heaven.

I am not Catholic and I confess to having an uneasy ambivalence about the church. When I am in a magnificent cathedral I'm both awestruck by the beauty and uncomfortable about the stories the golden walls might tell. Was this amazing structure build on the backs of poor laborers or slaves? Was money that was needed to feed and house the poor used instead for this indulgent devotion to ritual? Are cathedrals more testaments to ego and power than a place for sanctuary and worship? But at that moment I felt for the first time that I understood the way a space like this could transform people - lift them from the hardships of their everyday lives and fill them with beauty and hope for a better life - even if it was the afterlife.

If you asked my sons what their most unforgettable moment in Italy was, they might say the night when Rome erupted after winning a World Cup soccer game - or swimming in the Meditteranean Sea off the Amalfi Coast - or eating gelato in a lively piazza at night. But I know that at that moment in Siena the 4 of us shared a moment that was magical and transporting, and that none of us will forget.

Auteur

  Yael Z.

Situation

  Sienne

Catégorie

  Coutumes Locales

Date de publication

13 mai 2014 - 15:24:26

voter  7 Votes