Today we went to hear Gregorian chants in a church in Florence. At the top of the stairs outside the church before I went in, I took this photo of the city in the rain. You can even see a bride and groom taking their wedding photographs near the middle if you look closely. Isn’t it kind of lovely? I feel like an instagram influencer posting this. Hashtag blessed and all that.
Here’s the real story behind this photo though: I had to really hoof it all the way up here from our apartment to make it in time for the chanting thing, so I was dripping in sweat when I took this. Also, it had begun to rain during my walk there so my converse shoes were soaked right through and ... was that me I could smell? It was. I smelled like a wet dog.
When I entered the church, a security-guard-looking guy admonished me for bringing my umbrella in with me. Oops. I sat down and the minutes ticked by. Was it ever going to start? I used this time to ponder what a moron I was. Why did I come? I’m not religious. I don’t even know who Greg is or why he sings. Can you google in a church? (No.) And was the service going to be in Italian or Latin? Once it started, I tried to follow but the only words I could make out were focaccia and pesto and I’m not even sure those were right (I was hungry). The singing was lovely but it was just one guy at the front doing it, except every once in awhile the umbrella-hating security-guard-guy would sing back at him. (I know. He was not a security guard at all. I see that now.)
I wanted to bolt but I didn’t, and ultimately, I’m kinda glad. Everyone seemed very nice during the part where you shake hands and they politely ignored my wet dog aroma. Plus it was built in the eleventh century and the acoustics were amazing in there- even I could’ve sung some stuff and sounded decent.
Hehe .... I’m kidding. You can only expect people to take so much.
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