There are moments, hours, even, when I shake my head at American customs that are the bases for municipal pride. Reading Friday Night Lights made my heart hurt. And I LIKE sports, but when you consider the resources we pour into games AND how we shape young attention spans to fixate on games . . .
Ugh. (Actually, I just read a great essay that points out the problem isn't 12-year-olds who want to be LeBron James; it's 12-year-olds who ONLY want to be LeBron James. 12-year-olds should have endless dreams. You can read it here, but I digress.)
But for all our sprawling majesty, American customs that lead to school-wide or city-wide bragging rights have a certain symmetry to them. Regardless of your town's preferences (team spots, rodeo, show choir), the competitions that crown the "best" have striking similarities--scoring, officiating, seasons. Even when I wish I didn't, I GET IT.
And then I came to Italy.
Italy seems to be full of small cities with their own unique bragging rights customs. Urbania has La Befana, and Siena has its Palio. (I may write about La Befana later, but just Google the Palio.) When Francis of Assisi died, everyone assumed he would be granted sainthood. Playing host to a saint's remains was associated with great fortune for medieval cities, so his body was hidden within the walls of a basilicia so the neighboring city of Perugia wouldn't steal the body*. All for bragging rights.
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| Gubbio, not the home of modesty |
Gubbio, however, may be the champion of off-beat bragging rights competitions. Gubbio is a medieval walled town in Umbria. It's a striking city even before you learn about the Festa dei Ceri. You can find full details on this festival here and here, but the short version is this: three teams each carry an enormous, heavy wooden THING (a cero) up a mountain road to see who can do it best. (Not fastest, the ceri are always carried in the same order, and they are not allowed to pass each other.)
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| Palazzo dei Consoli |
The ceri are shaped like giant, wooden hour-glasses and, according to the plaque in the Basilica of St. Ubaldo, stand over 15 feet tall and weigh over 600 pounds.
REALLY.
That's what they run up a mountain.
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| Picture of the city taken from the blackly of the Palazzo dei Consoli |
Each is topped with a wooden carving of a saint. St. Ubaldo, the patron saint of Gubbio, is the symbol of the masons. St. George represents the merchants while St. Anthony represents the farmers.
The Festa dei Ceri is held each year on May 15. The following Sunday the Festa dei Ceri Mezzani is held for 15-20 year old participants. Then on June 2, the Festa dei Ceri Piccoli is run with younger boys. (Yes, boys. Women and girls are only cheerleaders in this competition.)
The two later races are seemingly** run with smaller ceri, but still the mind boggles.
Now, if you were to visit Gubbio, I would recommend skipping recreating the run. Instead, after huffing and puffing up a steep incline and a big flight of stairs, stroll on over to the funivia to take a leisurely ride up the mountain. Then it's just a short walk to to the basilica where you can goggle at the ceri and watch a video of last year's race.
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| Me, on the funivia. I love this ride. |
*There is an awesome irony here. A two-year captivity in Perugia is credited with triggering St. Francis' religious conversion. And still they wanted to capture him again.
**Google Translate failed me here. It suggested that mezzani translates to pimps. Um, no. I can't see St. Ubaldo appreciating a pimped out version of his race. Mezzo is half, so I'm going to assume that mezzani is like half-pint or half-ish. Piccoli means small.
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