An Italian Wedding: Passion, Beauty & Chaos

Passion, beauty and chaos define everything Italians do, and weddings are no different. No rehearsal, the shuttle to the

Dad, Kristyan and friends

church was late because it was too big to fit up the tiny little streets to the church, no one knew exactly how we were going to enter or exit the church, when we’d be doing readings or anything else. And no one seemed to care one bit. When you don’t have a plan, it’s impossible for things not to go according to plan.

The proudest father in Italy

We went to Franco’s house for refreshments before the wedding. Because of the previous night’s thunderstorms it was hot and the air stuck to us all like wet kleenex. The women were fanning themselves and the men were sweating through their shirts, and there was really nothing any of us could do about it. Living in the Bay Area we’re rarely faced with just standing around helplessly sweating. I got to peek in at my sister standing upstairs looking absolutely beautiful next to a portable air conditioner to keep her perfect hair and makeup from melting. She looked radiant as the girls revolved around her adjusting and admiring. Yesterday, she was the most beautiful woman in Italy. Snf.

Once the shuttle finally found a way up the hill to the church, Maico handed me a bible in English with the page marked for the reading I was going to do, and we didn’t have more than 30 seconds worth of conversation about how we were all going to walk down the aisle. The flower girls and ring boys were arranged, and we just did it. The priest did his thing and people stood up when they thought they should, said their Amens and it was pretty painless. The kids loved the part after where they got to throw rice at Zio & Zia (uncle and aunt). They liked it so much that when they ran out of rice they started grabbing handfuls from the ground and re-throwing it. Kristyan’s friends, the 35 year old kids, had just as much fun pelting the couple as the little kids did.

Only my mom and my sister know what might have been wrong with the reception. To the rest of us, it was perfect. The tables were candlelit under the tents be the river. The kids were fascinated by the lights floating in the fountain surrounded by cushions. After cocktails, at the American tables, everyone was a little nervous about which courses they were going to like and which ones they were going to skip, but it ended up that everyone had so much fun deciphering what each dish was that only the carne cruda (horse carpaccio) went untouched on a few plates.

There was no real delineation between food and dancing. After the speeches, between courses, it just started organically. Franco, his brother and their wives started out with an impressive tango, and then once Staying Alive played, everybody was up in a mass of moving arms and legs. Once it started, it kept up right to the end. Some people would rotate out to go eat the next course then get back up and get moving again.

Little kids running all over the place, bigger kids sipping grappa and smoking cigars from the

No ties left once the dancing started

cigar table in the back, the crazy energy of three and four generations of people letting loose together on the dance floor…the natural party atmosphere didn’t really need any planning. It just emanated from the people. Italians just do weddings right and if I hadn’t experienced this, I’d never have known just how much better they do it. They have a natural gift for making a party anywhere, anytime.Everything went so imperfectly perfect.

I’m so happy that my little sister got to spend one of the most special days of her life surrounded by such caring and buoyant people and I know all of us who came from the US got to experience something that we’ll never forget.

The proudest father in Italy

Dad, Kristyan and friends

No ties left once the dancing started

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