The World Cup games have ended (congratulations Spain!) and now, I can get on with my life. I apologize for the prolonged absence. Things have just been busy and... I've been a wee bit blue.
June is full of flowers, of cherries, the most anticipated swims in the sea and the first gin and tonic of the year. We usually have a lot of visitors, which we love. They are mainly close relatives, loved ones.
The cruel part is when they go home and we are left with only the memories of good times and happy experiences.
This June was especially emotional because we had a pretty intense visitor load (my brother and family, cousins) and despite my son's chicken pox, bad weather and rough seas, we all had a splendid time.
Having my brother's family here reminded me of their previous visit in 2007.
Their second son was to be baptized and my husband, a friend who was living in London and I were chosen to be the godparents. My brother asked what I thought about having the baptism in Italy. I thought that that was a great idea, so I started doing the research to make it happen in Monterosso.
Back then, we had Don Franco as our parish priest in Monterosso. He was known for his long-winded sermons on moral rectitude and the faults of the local populace. I knew him fairly well as he was the head of the preschool that my son had attended so I imagined that I would not have any problems in organizing the baptism.
One morning I went in to talk to Don Franco about the rite and he had no problem in conducting the ceremony in the church as long as the little boy had the documents from his home church guaranteeing his family's standing in the parish. As I was leaving, I told Don Franco how much it meant to me seeing as my husband and I were to be the godparents.
At that point Don Franco said that the baptism would be fine but that my husband and I could not be the godparents- wasn't my husband a previously married and divorced man? Well, yes, he is, I mumbled.
And I thought that the fact that I was an Episcopalian was going to get me in to trouble.
I walked out of the church with my head hung low, thinking of what I was going to tell my brother. As I exited, the pack of old ladies that permanently occupy the marble benches outside the church asked what was wrong. I told them the whole story and at the end, they let out a collective disgusted sigh which made me understand that they considered Don Franco to be the the consummate party-pooper.
'What you need to do.....', one said, 'is to go to Vernazza. The priest there is much more liberal and he won't mind that Fabio is divorced!'. Another piped in that Ugo's wife Laura's mother was in Vernazza, was part of the local pack of old churchy ladies and would gladly help me out.
They were right and Don Giovanni, the 'liberal' priest of Vernazza was much more accommodating.
After out initial meeting, I went back to the marble benches outside of the church in Monterosso to relay the good news to my old lady friends and thank them for their help. They were very satisfied to have helped out and continued to make suggestions.
'Well... if you have the baptism in Vernazza, you have to follow the local traditions and do the benediga'.' That was new to me. In Monterosso, you have your child baptized, then you go eat and that's it. I asked what the benediga was.
They explained that in Vernazza, for weddings and baptisms, you get the benediction of the priest in the church but afterwards you have to obtain the benediction or the 'benediga' of the townspeople by throwing candy from a window to the public below.
That sounded like fun but I knew of noone with a high window in Vernazza in the prescribed 'benediga' piazza. Of course, the church women knew just the lady and gladly provided me with the signora vernazzese's cell phone number. We set up the appointment- her brother had the apartment that the Vernazzesi use and for 50 euros, we could use it too. A small price to pay for a lifetime of benediction.She'd even rustle up a crowd for us.
I called my brother and explained the situation. I said that it would be fun if he could bring some American candy to throw from the window, since the baby was American.
The day came- all was prepared for us to hop on the train and take the 5 minute ride to Vernazza. Before we left the house, I came up with the bright idea of emptying all of the candy into an Ikea bag so it would be easier to grab and throw. My brother went to go get the candy and when he came back, I was shocked to see that he had brought 2 small bags of Jolly Ranchers with him- and that was it.
A mad rush to the supermarket followed where we bought out all of Monterosso's hard candies. The sacks were ripped open and thrown into the Ikea bag. 3 little boys, 10 adults and 20 pounds of candy boarded the train.
The ceremony was lovely, it could not have been more beautiful. Just us, the church and the reflection of the seawater on the walls.
After the service we piled up to the designated building. The signora was there but she could not find her brother! We find out that we can just as well use the window from the stairwell... for free!
The crowd built up slowly but by the time we started to throw the candy, there was a good mix of local older ladies (with plastic sacks for their haul, no less! Friends of our signora we supposed), tourists, kids and curious bystanders.
Out of candy and high on the whole Mardi Gras-like experience, our little party walked down to the piazza by the sea and shared a bottle of prosecco with our hero, Don Giovanni.
Preparing to face the mob below
The mob! 
Celebrating with Don Giovanni 
This is just an example of how the traditions of small villages vary greatly- even villages as close to each other as the Cinque Terre towns!
If you go to the Cinque Terre, even if you are not a 'churchy' person, make sure to visit the parish churches of each village. They were all built in the 13th and 14th centuries and vary in style from one village to the next. They are a great place to escape the heat and really absorb the enormity of how many people over many, many generations contributed to the making of such a beautiful area of the world.
The church of Saint Margaret of Antioch in Vernazza is my favorite of the 5 parish churches. It is simple, austere, with an amazing view of the sea and the Punta Mesco. I feel that of all of the churches, this one best represents the character of the residents of the Cinque Terre.
July 20th is the day that celebrates Saint Margaret so if you are near Vernazza, make sure that you are there in the evening time for a procession and fireworks.
