Palio!

It's been a week since then, and the Oca are still parading around. It was quite the experience: a truly exceptional night.

A little context:
Siena is divided into 17 districts, which were used as military divisions(each providing its own soldiers) back in the days when Siena was a republic and constantly at war with Florence. These districts are called contrade, and they are still very much a part of Sienese life. No longer military divisions, now they are kind of like a really beefed up neighborhood organization, each with it's own social life, cultural events, and proud history. You may remember from my first post that we visited a contrada headquarters on our first tour of the city.

The main events of theyear in every Sienese life are the two

Palio horse races: one on July 2nd, and one on August 16th. These have happened every year since the 1600s (canceled only for a couple of years during WWII). They are religious events, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and a source of great pride to the contrade. The horses race three times around the main square of the city, and whichever horse comes in first (regardless of whether its rider is still mounted) wins the Palio for its contrada. The Palio is a giant painted banner, with a depiction of the virgin on it. There is no second place in the Palio, only the champion, and the losers.

We'd been seeing signs of the impending event for weeks, as the Piazza (main square) was modified to be suitable for horse racing. Bleachers were put up, and a railing around the central section where people would stand. The outer perimeter was covered in a layer of dirt, to turn it into a racetrack. Starting on Monday, they brought the horses in every morning at 5, to ride them on the track, and get them used to it (it's not your standard racetrack, being surrounded by high buildings, and not completely round). We went to see the horses on Tuesday, along with many of the Sienese (I don't think I can stress how big a deal this is to the Sienese. Imagine the homecoming football game in a really football-centric area, combined with 500ish years of tradition). 5 AM is really really early, and I fell asleep in the bleachers, while we watched the horses go 'round and 'round.

I think the parades started on Tuesday. Drummers and flag-bearers from the participating contrade walk through the city in full costume, playing and singing (the winning contrada is still doing this). About this time, the contrade alsostarted doing enormous dinners for all of their m

embers, and everyone was putting out contrada flags and wearing contrada scarves.

Wednesday was the choosing of the horses. They are chosen, with much pomp and ceremony, by lottery. Once chosen, a horse cannot be changed for any reason, and, as having a good horse is essential to winning, it's a very exciting and nerve wracking moment for the contrada members. My roommate went, and she says she saw little children praying in groups, hoping to get the good horse. A fight also broke out between two rival contradas. I'm told this is completely normal, and in fact that someone goes to the hospital every Palio. I missed this particular ceremony, but, as I was walking back to class, I saw the Istrice contrada leading the horse into their territory. The horse was lead by two priests, and followed by most of the contrada (maybe two hundred or more, I'm not sure) singing at the top of their lungs. It was a very cool sight.

The week progressed with growing excitement, the contrade becoming more and more visible every day. I caved and bought a scarf from the Istrice (crested porcupine) contrada, to wear on the day of the race.

We had been told three things about the Palio: we would be standing in the middle, we wouldn't be able to see anything, and once we got into the stadium, we would not be allowed out. Still, determined to see everything, we decided to get to the Piazza early. The city was insane, filled with people, and parades and drummers and singers everywhere. We got into the Piazza around three (the parade was due to enter at 5:30, and the actual race would be around 8), and promptly noticed a significant difference between Italy and the states: despite the fact that it's arguably the most important day of the year, almost no one had arrived early to guarantee a seat. We socialized, and watched the Piazza slowly fill with people. It quickly became clear that "getting a good seat" was kind of an illusion, since the Piazza is shaped like a bowl, so there are no particularly good vantage points. I may have lost a year off my life at that point from cigarette smoke, as I think about 1 in 4 of the people around us were smoking. Not cool.

The parade was cool though. dozens of people from every contrada in traditional costume, with horses, flags, banners, and drums. Admittedly, we couldn't see most of it, but what we could see was cool. I'm told that the parade is a reenactment of/tribute to a battle between Siena and Florence in the 13th century that Siena won (hence the reenactment). Either way, cool costumes.

This Palio was a bit controversial, due to a sad event the day before the race: During one of the Friday practice runs, a horse tripped and fell, breaking its legs and going into shock, dying before they could get it out of the arena. The citizens were sad, and that contrada couldn't run (no replacing of horses), and the minister of tourism, who is an animal rights activist, wanted the city to cancel the Palio. They haven't canceled since World War II, and they didn't on this occasion, but there was a fair bit of argument and discussion. I've concluded that this sort of thing wouldn't fly in the States (aside from the dead horse this year, you have a huge laundry list of past injuries, riders get hurt all the time, it's just really really unsafe), and you could never start one from scratch in the present day, but it's hard to cancel something that's been the biggest day of the year since 1656.

After two hours of parades, the Piazza was full. Not as crowed as I expected, but you still had to push past people if you wanted to move, and given my height, rather difficult to see what was going on. But, as my italian teacher so aptly put it "watching on TV, you see with your eyes. In the Piazza, you see with your heart". The air was full of excited voices. It was at this point that the doors of the Palazzo opened, and the horses crossed to the starting line.

At this point, the entire Piazza went completely silent. Traditionally the jockeys bribe each other to try to get an advantage in the race ("if you let me pass you in the first round, I'll give you $50,000" kind of thing), and this is the point when those deals are confirmed. It's also the moment when the starting placements for the horses are announced. These are both important things for the enthusiasts to hear, so there is the sound of the crowd collectively shushing their neighbors, and then the thick silence of thousands of people not breathing. It was a tense moment. The starting order was read to perfect silence, the horses assumed their positions, and after one false start, the race began and everyone was screaming. I was surrounded by a group of people from Oca (the goose contrada), screaming things I couldn't understand. The horses thundered by at breakneck speeds, crashing into each other and the barriers, careening around corners. Several riders fell off (the Palio is one of a very few races where a horse can win without a rider). In a heartbeat it was over. Oca had pulled ahead and crossed the finish line first. Everything was chaos. The people next to me were jumping up and down, grabbing each other and crying. people poured out of the central stadium to chase after the horse and rider. The Palio was brought out, and the parade began, full of flags and shouting and crying, to carry it to the church, where it would be blessed.

We went for dinner at an irish pub with delicious burgers and terrible service, and then on to explore the city. Even well past midnight, the streets were full of people: children with funny light up toys, groups of adults and teenagers wandering together, Drunken Sienese with drums, flags, sometimes miniature parades with singing, everywhere. When we left at 3AM, the city center had yet to calm down, and we ran into several parades on the way back. Since then, Oca has been parading around constantly, and mocking their enemy contrada (tower). Preparations are now starting for the second Palio of the summer, which I'm sad to say I'll miss.

It was quite the experience.