First, today is ‘La Festa della Donna’, which translates pretty much as ‘Festival for Women’. It’s like mother’s day but for all women. The men are required (by which I mean that if they don’t, they get bitch slapped) to buy the special women in their lives this particular kind of little yellow flower, which I don’t know the name of. Women traditionally get together and party without the men. It’s a pretty cool holiday, if you ask me! I was listening to the radio in the car today about the history, and from what I gleened from half-listening to a fast-speaking Italian radio DJ, it’s been going on 100 years, and is a day to remember the persecution and lack of rights women once had.
This was while I was driving through town, and I passed by the Tuesday market, so I stopped by. Man oh man, I wish I had my camera with me so you can understand the hilarity of an Italian market. See, in France, the markets are amazing because the farmers, cheesemakers, and winemakers come out and you buy their incredibly delicious home made goodies from them. In Italy…well, it’s more like a flea market. The funniest part today was there was a table selling farm equipment, including used cowbells of various sizes. See, cowbells are highly important here because there are a plethora of cows. However, right next to the cowbell table was a sexy lingerie table. There were mannequins dressed in sexy teddies and see-through thongs and a rack of very very very risque under-things. Actually, not underthings. Sexy teddies and matching thongs. Pretty much all see-through. It was just pretty funny to me to have an old lady selling these overly risque lingerie on the street, next to used cowbells. That’s Italy for you!
Next on the agenda: In every city, of every size, there is graffiti. Which, coincidentally, is the same word in Italian. Of course we have some of your run-of-the-mill graffiti, where a stupid teenager scrawls something illegible to try to act like a bad-ass, but what we have most of is LOVE graffiti. People declaring their everlasting, undying love for someone Including Aosta, where I live, and I have made a habit of taking photos of the particular sweet scrawlings on the walls. I was going to wait until I amassed a larger collection, as I’ve photographed only a tiny fraction, but here is something to get you started.
|“Peace doesn’t only say no war”|
|“And…I love you…how it is… I have never been in love with this/and…I love you, I love you truely/and…I love you, I love you I swear/and… I love you for my entire life/and…I love for your mistakes|
|“I LOVE YOU…forever…my darling!”|