Yesterday was my first Sunday here in Pescara and it was sunny and promising the joy of spring. The temperature was perfect, around 18 C and...65 F?? I yanked out a pair of cotton pants, a cardigan, and ballerina flat shoes from my suitcase and felt so happy to be dressed like spring and not to wear my heavy wool coat.
As we walked to mass I started to notice the differences from where I lived in Desenzano. First of all, Pescara is next to the Adriatic Sea and Desenzano next to Lake Garda. The sea has salt water and Desenzano has sweet water. This makes a difference when swimming because with salt water you float and sweet water you have to kick a bit more to stay alive. The color of the sea is also different than the lake. The Adriatic sea is greenish blue and Lake Garda is more sapphire blue and the lake water is extremely clear.
The most noticeable difference between Desenzano and Pescara are the people. In the north they are taller, thinner, whiter, and you will rarely find a lady overweight. Here, in Pescara to be specific, the people are much shorter, chubbier (but not overweight), and with olive complexions. The history and geography of Italy certainly contributes to the genetic makeup of the population. It is funny, but in the USA I knew several Italian-Americans. When I came here no one looked Italian or acted Italian as I knew it till I saw Sicilians and Neapolitans. They look like the Italians I know because most of the immigrants to Maryland were from Sicily or Naples and had those genes.
Yesterday in mass, I suddenly felt tall. I am around five feet eight inches and though that is generally on the taller side for ladies I am no oager. Here I felt like the Jolly Giant. There were two older ladies sitting next to me at mass, at least 12 inches shorter than me. The one closest to me kept looking up at me like to check out the giant in the sky. It was cute.
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| Offering for the heat. Boy, I wish my church in Desenzano had this! |
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| The large mosaic of Mary and baby Jesus at the front altar |
After mass we saw that there was a race going on. Then I noticed that young people (under 50 is considered "giovanne" or young in Italy) in Pescara love to run. I come from a family of runners and appreciate a nice long trot. One thing made me smirk though. I noticed that the men here love to run dressed rather scandalously. They dress in dark conservative colors are serious manly men but as they get ready to run they dress shamelessly with thight or Daisy Duke shorts. I would die laughing if I saw any of the men in my family prancing around dressed like this. Also, I find it totally hypocritical that if women wore short shorts like the guys do here, they would be called whores and all sorts of other low names. So here are some pictures of the brazen hussies I "ran" into yesterday. The girls in my college would wear the things they are sporting.
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| That is a dude |
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| Women are all bundled up for their jog |
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| Daisy Duke shorts might be longer |
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| hehe |
After walking past the runners we crossed the street to the sea and walked home along the shore. A lot of people had similar ideas.
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| Getting a head start on beach volleyball |
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| Where does the sea end and sky begin? |
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| Acapulco Beach, Pescara Italy. Can I get a mojito? |
We also saw some of the destruction caused by the snow storm. Pescara was hit pretty hard.
As we got home we discovered Bentley refining his musical taste. He hopped five feet up on top of the speaker and was napping away while listening to Édith Piaf, popular French singer of the 1950's.
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