When I was 15 years old my father took the family to Mola Di Bari to visit my grandmother and grandfather. It was a long trip with 8 hours of flying and 10 hours on train to get where they lived. Then I didn't appreciate it as much but now it was a great trip. We were there for the festival of the Madonna a Mare, men carried the Mother Mary through the town on their shoulders as people threw money and jewelry on her. The festival is in September, it is celebrated the second Sunday of September. The town has white arches with lights and at night they are lit up and fireworks go for 2 hours straight. I wish I was older to appreciate it more. I remember going to the town and getting our food fresh, I loved the bread and fresh mozzarella. I was able to visit the cemetery and see some of our family history. On the wall of the mausoleum they had pictures of the dead and a lot of the graves were above ground do to water levels. We were able to go into one of churches in town Parrocchia San Nicola where my parents renewed their vows and I got to learn that they bury thier priests under the church when they pass away. Anyways thought I would write about it because it came to my mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment