The Feast of Saint Anthony

As luck would have it, a few days after we arrived our little town celebrated the Feast of St. Anthony. The saint's feast day is celebrated on June 13, the date of his death in 1231 (from ergotism, also known as "St. Anthony's fire," a gruesome disease caused by fungus-infested grain). He's popular, since he is not only credited with interceding for the sick and but is also the patron saint of lost things.

Here in Montagano the festivities started with a mass at the church and then a procession through town signaled by the ringing of all the town's church bells.

The bells rang. And rang. And rang. (This seems to happen a lot, and not only on festa days.)

The procession set off through town, led by the local band, a statue of St. Anthony, and the town priest. Everyone marched up the main street to the top of the hill,

Then, although it was still light out, we were treated to about ten minutes of fireworks. I couldn't help thinking that all this racket must have its roots in the ancient idea of using loud noises to scare away evil spirits.

The fireworks completed, the procession turned around and marched back through town to the main church, where the saint's image was returned to its place.

Then it was time for aperitivi. Which turned out to be the calm before the storm.

In the photo at right you can see the lights that were put up for the festa. In the foreground you can also see a little dog with whom our children have become infatuated. He runs around with no collar and always one ear up and one down, which they find immensely charming. They kept asking people whose dog he was, and the answer was always that he is "abbandanato," so now that's the name they greet him by. They have been feeding him prosciutto and trying to get him to feel some special sense of loyalty to them, but it's clear to me that a lot of people feed him and that he is pretty promiscuous with his attentions.

Once everyone had had a drink or two, the festivities continued with a DJ and several hours of Italian disco music, with dancing in the middle of the main street, which was blocked off for all of this.

 It was a bit like a high-school dance, with a lot of people standing around watching and not many people dancing. There was some very spirited line dancing by the ladies, however. I admired their brio but was too shy to join in.

Someone--the church, I think--set out tables where wine, beer, bread-and-ham panini, and packages of home-cured prosciutto and other meats were sold. You can see this part of the festa in this view from our balcony (looking through the clothesline). 

See if you can spot the thirty-somethings in our party whom we refer to as "the kids."  

The music went on till about 12:30 a.m,, right under our window, and then I fell asleep to the sound of much lively conversation.

The next day a "palco"--the kind of bandstand you see in small-town parks in the U.S.--was erected in the same spot where the disco DJ had plied his trade the night before. A non-local band, a group of polished pros said to be from Naples, or Puglia, or somewhere else far away, arrived and gave a concert in the morning and another that evening.

Their stock in trade is long medleys of favorite opera arias and light classics, with "Bolero" blending into the "Toreador Song" from Carmen, segueing into one of Borodin's Polovtsian dances. Charming, but hard to fall asleep to at midnight.

After the music ended, a crew of people remained on the street, talking and singing.

In fact, even on days when there is no festa, someone is outside being loud on the sidewalks below our windows virtually every night, deep into the wee hours.

We have all been fantasizing about buying a house here, because you can reportedly get one for $5,000 or even less, and for people from California passing up that kind of real-estate bargain feels like a crime.

But I don't think any of us is keen to purchase anything here in the middle of the main drag. Or anywhere near those church bells.