We came back from Castel Gandolfo sunburned and satisfied.
Slowly, slowly, we walked back from the metro and towards home.
Then we heard the music.
Tomorrow is a ponte – a bridge. That is the day off you take between the weekend and the actual holiday, which is on Tuesday. So it is a kind of jerry-rigged four day weekend and there are plenty of people everywhere.
This, however, was not about the first long weekend of summer. It was about Testaccio.
It was about life on a Sunday in a changing neighborhood in Italy.
But not so changed that anyone would dream of forgoing a procession for the patron saint.
“Brava!,” he yelled when I took a photo. Proud. Proud of this neighborhood, and of this responsibility, to carry Mary through the streets.
“Evviva!” The crowd yelled and cheered.
The children waved. The neighbors hung Ave Maria banners out their windows.