Buona Pasquetta! In other words, Happy Easter Monday! In Italy, they don’t speak of a second Easter day as it is known in the Netherlands, but they call this day Pasquetta. A very lovely name, I think. Pasqua is the Italian word for Easter, which refers to Easter Sunday. Pasquetta is the diminutive, literally translating to little Easter. It sounds happier, lighter and more cheerful. Exactly the energy that suits this day if you’d ask me.
But the one thing that impressed me the most this Easter was Andrea Bocelli’s concert
Whether you value it or not, Easter will have been different for everyone this year. The feeling was different. No gorgeous flower arrangements gifted by the Dutch people to the Pope. No thousands of people gathered on Saint Peter’s square to witness papa Francesco proclaiming the urbi et orbi. No big Easter lunches with the whole family, or going out altogether. But the one thing that impressed me the most this Easter was Andrea Bocelli’s concert. In an empty Duomo of Milan, the gigantic dome where you could literally hear a pin drop, the singer gave a concert last night that was streamed live on Youtube. No less than 2.5 million people ‘joined’ the concert and now, not even 24 hours later, already more than 24 million people have watched it. Bocelli sang, among other songs, the Ave Maria, which for many Italians is inextricably linked to a fond memory, be it of a wedding, a first communion or any other family occasion. Then he walked down the aisle in a straight line to go outside, where he sang the Amazing Grace on the square, the emptiness of it almost too bizarre to comprehend. Images of an extinct Paris, London and New York alternated the image of an empty Piazza del Duomo, where, as I noticed, even the pigeons that normally swarmed here with the hundreds could not be seen anymore. I’m almost sure that all those 24 million people were watching, but most of all listening, to Bocelli’s beautiful voice that delivered a message of hope having goose bumps on their arms.
Do they also flock – like the Dutch people do – to those huge furniture shops on Pasquetta to try out thirty-eight sofas that you already know you’re never going to buy anyway?
But what do Italians usually do at Easter? Do they also flock – like the Dutch people do – to those huge furniture shops on Pasquetta to try out thirty-eight sofas that you already know you’re never going to buy anyway, or do they have something completely different scheduled? I’m sure it doesn’t take you by surprise that they skip the interior design shops. However, I’ve discovered that Easter in Italy is actually very similar to the Easter I know from my youth.
At the time I had no idea where Rome actually was – let alone that I could ever imagine living there myself – but the logic of ringing church bells being the start signal for a big hunt on chocolate eggs I of course gladly accepted as truth
When I was very young, my grandmother used to tell me that the church bells had left for Rome on Good Friday. They would return on Easter Sunday, and when we heard them ringing loudly again, we would go outside and look for Easter eggs in the garden. At the time I had no idea where Rome actually was – let alone that I could ever imagine living there myself – but the logic of ringing church bells being the start signal for a big hunt on chocolate eggs I of course gladly accepted as truth. In Italy, too, the church bells remain silent for a few days and the same story is told. However, how the silence is explained to Roman children (after all, all the bells in the world had left for Rome?!), is not quite clear to me yet. I forgot to ask the two Roman children with whom I Skype daily to keep their English-speaking skills up to standard now that the schools are closed until September. They did tell me very passionately however about the Easter egg search ‘in grandpa’s and grandma’s garden’, as they traditionally do every year. Now they couldn’t physically go over to their grandparents’ place, their nonno had come up with the brilliant, innovative idea to still hide the eggs, and to put a camera on his and nonna’s heads for their grandchildren to direct them through the garden on the hunt. “Five steps to the left nonna! A little further… Yes, right there! Look under that bush!” Now let’s hope the eggs haven’t turned into melted chocolate by the time they can go over and eat them at grandma and grandpa’s.
It’s always one of the first things that strikes my eye when I step into a bar or small shop in Rome: the dried twigs behind the crucifix on the wall that breathe a serene tranquility in an otherwise often very chaotic environment
A week before Easter, on Palm Sunday, you see people all over Italy walking around with olive branches having received the priest’s blessings. In the absence of flowering olive trees in the Netherlands, we always use the branches from a boxwood bush. However, the tradition my grandmother used to teach us of putting the branches behind the crucifix in the kitchen for the following year to be blessed, is exactly the same in Italy. It’s always one of the first things that strikes my eye when I step into a bar or small shop in Rome: the dried twigs behind the crucifix on the wall that breathe a serene tranquility in an otherwise often very chaotic environment. Four years ago, I actually put them behind the lamp for the lack of such a crucifix, to the great hilarity of my Italian landlord.
The Italian chocolate eggs are often gigantic as they contain small gifts, even precious jewellery
On Easter Sunday, Italians celebrate with the traditional Easter lunch, il pranzo pasquale. Eggs are of course part of this, but also pigeon. Excuse me, pigeon, you say? Sì! Well, a traditional sweet Italian Easter cake shaped as a pigeon that is: la colomba. This Italian Easter pigeon and the little bread in the shape of a chicken I used to make at primary school are very similar. Furthermore, lamb is served at a traditional lunch and the Italian chocolate eggs are often gigantic as they contain small gifts, even precious jewellery. Unfortunately, these special Easter eggs have not yet become part of the tradition in the Netherlands.
To my surprise, however, we Dutch people are not the only ones complaining about it for decades already
A topic which was amply discussed at my grandmother’s table every Easter was the weather (of course). I highly doubt if there is anything as unpredictable as the Dutch weather this time a year. From searching for Easter eggs in your winter coat this year to opening the barbecue season the following year: everything is possible at Easter, this year being the perfect example. Yesterday, on Easter Sunday, we sat outside during the lunch with 23 degrees in full sunshine, while today, on Easter Monday, we have to make do with rain and only 12 degrees. To my surprise, however, we Dutch people are not the only ones complaining about it for decades already, because the many Italian proverbs about the weather at Easter bear witness to the fact that the sun actually doesn’t give any guarantees in Southern Europe either. “Natale verde, Pasqua bianca” is such a much-heard proverb saying that also in Italy, a green Christmas means a white Easter. Yet, in a country that stretches over more than a thousand kilometers, these sayings highly variate per region, of course. However, there was one sentiment dominating on social media from north to south Italy this weekend as the Italians complained a bit sarcastically about how it could only rain at Easter in the previous years – when picnics on beaches and in nature were to take place – for the weather to be nothing less than glorious this year when everybody’s in lockdown.
It doesn’t matter with who you celebrate it – your friends, your parents or the people in your street – the only thing that matters is that you dò celebrate it
But perhaps the most famous Italian proverb about Easter is “Natale con i tuoi, Pasqua con chi vuoi”. It literally means “Christmas with your parents, Easter with whoever you want” and reflects exactly the more casual character of Easter. It doesn’t matter with who you celebrate it – your friends, your parents or the people in your street – the only thing that matters is that you dò celebrate it. And that’s even true in a complete lock-down situation, although we didn’t have that choice “with whom you want” anymore this year. For all of us, it meant we had to celebrate Easter with the people we happen to be quarantined with, and for me personally that implied “Christmas with the parents, Easter… eh yeah, with the parents too”. Still, that little word Pasquetta contains something uplifting, even this year. Maybe especially this year. Spring has presented itself to us in full glory, the swallows have returned to my parents’ garden last weekend and the numbers of new infections and deaths are starting to decline. That Pasquetta may bring us that new energy we have all been longing for. That musical message of hope coming from Andrea Bocelli. Only looking forward from now on, focused on a future in which we create a new reality. A more balanced reality with ourselves and the world around us. Buona Pasquetta a tutti!
How did they empty the pigeons from the Duomo Square in Milan?
It totally amazed me. The concert was beautiful.