The Appetizer Before the Feast
Summer is definitely here. And not because it was a gazillion degrees out yesterday, but because the North End is prepping for it’s summer feasts. Being the city’s Italian neighborhood, my little ethnic part of the city celebrates various saints throughout the summer. This consists of various streets being blocked off and all of the residents (and countless tourists) filling the streets to celebrate. There’s always a parade consisting of the local Italian-American band and a statue (I think of the Virgin Mary) being carried by guys. Then the specatotors run up to the statue and clip money to it. Consequently, you don’t see much of the statue during the parade since it’s completely covered in dollar bills. The festivities run into the evening with vendors selling everything from t-shirts to Italian sausage and various concerts taking place on street corners.
Although the actual feasts haven’t officially begun, the celebrations seem to have started. I’ll call them the appetizer before the feast. To escape the warmth yesterday, Rich and I decided to talk a pre-dusk walk along the harbor (the North End is along Boston’s waterfront…my apartment is just a block away from the ocean). When we got down to the street we heard drums. A few minutes later, we saw the money-covered statute take the corner and head toward us. Behind that, the Italian-American band and scores of residents. We observed this for a few minutes then walked the other way.
After walking by the old North Church (you know, Paul Revere and “one if by land, two if by sea”, etc…) we parked ourselves on a bench to watch the old Italian men play Bocci on the Bocci courts (how many cities/neighborhoods have Bocci courts!?!?!?!?). After living in this neighborhood for two summers, I think I’ve finally figured out how this game works. It’s just so much fun watching the old men with cigars yelling at each other (playfully) in Italian.
We then continued walking along the water until we came up the tennis courts. Inside the fence we noticed what appeared to be fire works laid out very carefully. The next thing we knew, all of these men started running to each explosive and lighting them. Apparently, the parade ended here and the festivities concluded with a fireworks display. All of a sudden we were just feet away from explosives shooting up into the sky. Perfect view (but not so good for the ear drums, I assume).
Finally, we followed the band (and the money-adorned religious figure) back toward my apartment.
That’s the stuff I love about living in the city: the unexpected stuff you stumble upon without even trying.
7 Comments
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.
Karl, I keep a Bocci set in my trunk.
Want me to bring it over?
(I’m not kidding)
The Virgin Mary stripping for singles? Oy vey!
Hey (Boston) David! That would be fun. Of course, I’ve never seen anybody under 60 playing Bocci there…I wonder if the old Italian guys will take too kindly to a gaggle of gays taking over their space?
…living in the city: the unexpected stuff you stumble upon — I saw an old whore vomit on my way to the Church Street Muni Station tonight!
Karl, why were you vomiting? Did you catch that flu bug from another “John”? tsk tsk… ;-P
ooops- it’s spelled Bocce.
Wow, David in Chicago is a tough room! Ha!
Snarl – I definitely want in on this North End action! It’s half my heritage , even if I look like a map of Ireland. Bocce is good fun, very popular in Provence as well. I’ll play! I’ll be your token straight! Ha. That’ll fix their collective wagon. Ha again.