An Epiphany that will last a lifetime

Sometimes I think I can only find little village life in little villages in undeveloped parts of the world.  Last week I found it in Italy. 

I hate to admit it, but when I was home for Christmas I was at an Olive Garden (it's true) and we googled "Epifania". Sometimes I think our little phones and ipods have all of the answers, but it took`more than a trip to the Olive Garden in Michigan City to learn about this one. It took a trip to Italy to find out what really goes on for the Epifania. 

Christmas trees keep being lit, Christmas music keeps being played, and people keep eating Pandoro and Panetone (those are the boxed cakes that I always thought were fruit cake until I tried one and two and three and now know that I will miss them when they are gone).  The Christmas spirit lasts until January 6 when the Italians have another day off and Befana comes.  Befana is kind of like Santa Claus.  Other than the fact that she's an ugly old woman and until I just regoogled it, I would've said she was a witch.  She comes on a broom and leaves stockings with treats for the kids. But that's not the best part.

All over Italy they have gigantic bonfires.  GIGANTIC!  It's the only day of the year that you are allowed to burn brush.  Some people do it in their yards and have little parties.  (Like a bonfire for New Year's Eve in Grand Beach.)  Farmers do it in their fields.  Small towns do it in their town centers.  I wanted to write piazza there, but I didn't actually see one in a piazza.

Fortunately for me, the bonfire was a night early in one little town and I was lucky enough to be driving by and see the spray painted sheet tied up between two trees announcing that the fire was on the 5th at 20:00.  We stopped for the lighting!   Befana was stuffed like a scarecrow at the top of a 20-foot pile of brush.  (She's burned to burn the bad things of the old year and wish for the best in the new year.) They lit the bottom in several different places and then it took off.  It was awesome.  Different people from the neighborhood came with food and hot wine and set up card tables and chairs to make a night of it.  I was on my way to a friend's house to eat yet another Pandoro and watch "Il Diavolo Veste Prada" so we didn't stay long.  But on the way back it was still burning and we stopped to feel the real heat. 

In the middle of nowhere I saw another little sign that said Befana was arriving on the 6th at 14:00.  It was nailed to a telephone pole on a tiny little street by a creek.  Exactly where she was arriving, I didn't know.  But, the next day I heard a bit of noise around 14:00.  I went outside to check and there was a parade of tractors pulling floats and playng music.  The neighbors gathered again with a card table and hot wine and Befana handed out presents to the kids!  If you were behind the parade in a car, you had no place to go.  It was a one lane road in the middle of nowhere.  How they picked this spot for her arrival is beyond me, but I'm glad I was there!

That night we went to town.  Their bonfire was in the big lot next to the church. It was in the same place that the market comes and sets up every Wednesday and Saturday.  Again, the hot wine.  But they also had cotton candy and crepes.  I think this holiday was made for me.

Two days later (two rainy days later, I might add) the fire was still smoldering.  And four days later, when I got back to Paris and unpacked my suitcase I couldn't identify the smell.  Then I had my own epiphany....my clothes still smelled like Italy on the 6th of January.  And I couldn't have been happier.