Saturday, 9 July 2016

Today was our P-day. However, we drove down to Piacenza to check out an apartment being vacated by the two missionaries this next week.  One is going home after his two years and the other is coming to the office.  Their apartment was very clean and we didn't need to do anything.  They said that they had checked out the other missionary apartment in Piacenza, and the sisters who left it vacant, had done a good job cleaning, and we believed them because theirs was so clean.  So we then drove around the walls of the ancient city and found an entry point and went directly to the train station so I could re-live memories from 50 years ago.

So 50 years ago, by myself, as a new senior companion, called trainers today, I arrived on the train at Piacenza from Torino, scared and also excited to be a missionary on my own, with a "greenie." As far as I know, I was the first LDS missionary ever to be called to serve in Piacenza, and actually served there, with three different junior companions.

This is the train station today, and I think it looked about the same, except there is now a bar-restaurant concession on the right side, where 50 years ago it was a trattoria, or home-style restaurant, run by the wife of the station manager, whose family lived above.  I have previously told the story of the miracle that occurred that day, so I will only briefly mention it here.  I knew I needed to find an apartment to move into that same day, because I did not have enough money for a hotel (even though perhaps my greenie might, they always have money).  I hung out at the train station until lunch time, asking everyone coming and going if they new of apartments for rent, and ate at the tratorria (fixed price for whatever lunch food the woman made that day, and you could have seconds, it was minestrone soup.)

I crossed the street where the news stands were and bought a local newspaper, hoping to find a want ad about a suitable apartment, but I didn't find one. I also spoke to people coming and going on the street, which was across from the train station and a park.

It is interesting that today this newspaper stand was closed, but the daily newspaper in Piacenza is the Libertà, or liberty.

So this is the park today, just where it was 50 years ago.  I remember the bushes were not as well manicured then, and because in my dire situation, I went behind some, where I didn't think I could be seen, and prayed very hard that I could be helped to find an apartment for me and my new companion, who was coming in at the train station that same evening.

As in most Italian parks, there are statues, but I don't remember this one we saw today.  All I remember is that I could see something that caught my eye by some water.

This is the only body of water in the park today, a pleasant fountain, which I don't remember from 50 years ago.  I only remember some water with a boy with a red shirt playing with a stick in the water.

And since I had my camera, and had taken a few pictures of flowers (coming from the desert in Arizona, I was still in awe of all the flowers in Italy), I took this picture of the boy, which Kevin found among my slides and scanned and sent me.  Again this pix is exactly 50 years old. The boy was alone and there weren't many other people in the park. (Thinking about it now, I wonder why he wasn't in school or something on a weekday early afternoon.)  I said "ciao" to him and he responded in a friendly manner.  I then told him I desperately needed needed to find an apartment to move into that day, Without any hesitation he told me that his grandfather (nonno) had apartments for rent and I should follow him and he would take me to his nonno, which we did.  I remember it was quite a ways away (I had left my baggage at the train station because I knew had to go back that evening to pick up my companion), but we found nonno and he had several apartments in one neighborhood (I am trying to remember where), and I found one that would work well for us.  Trusting me, nonno gave me the key with my promise that after my companion came in later that evening we would come by his apartment and pay the deposit and rent, which we did.  Then I was able to pray again, in my new furnished apartment, for the blessing that the Lord gave me that day.  Then I went out and bought some food so we would have something in the apartment.  

Today I prayed again in that same park in Piacenza, across from the train station, that I was able to learn 50 years ago that Heavenly Father heard my prayers and would answer them in a way that I knew with certainty that He is really there and watching out for me as I was trying to do His work.. (I told that story to the missionaries whose apartment we checked earlier today. I also keep a copy of the picture of the boy with the red T-shirt on the bulletin board above my desk.)

Entrance to the park from the other side.

Today they had one cobblestone street next to the park torn up, laying it again.  If you look closely in about the middle you can see two guys out working, on a Saturday in the heat of the day.  Most old streets in downtown Italian cities are of cobblestones, either squared up stones or round ones that look live river rocks.

We parked our car at the train station parking lot (I went in to use the restroom at McDonalds, which is also right there) and asked where the duomo, or cathedral is, and walked several blocks to find it.  Above is it from the back.

We went in the back door of the duomo and saw that in one of the side chapels they were in the middle of Saturday noon mass.  This was taken at the point (from some distance as to not disturb) when the priest held up the host (wafer of bread) declaring it to be the actual body of Christ (through the incorrect doctrine of transubstantiation). I like to see Italian churches and have seen many in my day, but I don't ever remember going into this duomo before.

Towards the back of the duomo is a plaque showing the names and dates the many bishops of Piacenza served.  The heading says, in Latin, chronology of the bishops of the holy church of Piacenza. You may not be able read, unless you enlarge it, that the first one listed was Saint Victor, who served from the year 322 AD, for 53 years (the first three have been made saints and I suspect their remains are within the church).

And the current (or at least last on the list) is Anthony Mazza (wonder if he is related to the Mazzas in Soda Springs?)

We exited the duomo from the front side door and found they were having a Saturday market in the piazza in front of the duomo.  It was hot and muggy, but there were a lot of people there today.


Here's the front of the duomo showing the market stalls.

I bought a 6 pack of cotton with lycra black dress socks for €6 ($6.63 US dollars), and a new brown belt, to wear with my khaki pants, which I was wearing, for €3.  The sellers were Chinese (there are now a lot in Italy, I didn't see any 50 years ago).  I couldn't find a brown belt that fit within their pile, either too small or too large, so I took off my black belt and her husband very quickly cut a brown belt, using mine as a template, and punched new holes (he even had a leather hole punch), and it works just fine,  In this pix he was actually working on my belt, but it does not show much.  These market vendors sell cheap Chinese (or foreign made stuff).  Italian stuff is much more expensive and better quality, but I didn't need any better today.


I tried not to be too obnoxious when I took this pix, but the lady in the front has dyed her hair bright red (not hair red, but hot pink red), which actually isn't uncommon, even for older women, in Italy.  We also passed by a little naturally red headed Italian boy that reminded me of Mark's Peter.  Italians don't all have dark hair.

This white haired Italian lady, as I have written about before, is typical of women her age who dress up every day to go buy her groceries, which she carries home in the little cart. On the way home we stopped by a large shopping center, so I could use the restroom and we could buy some lunch at the supermarket we saw the sign for.

This is a door to a toilet stall in the men's restroom at the mall.  The mall was decorated in large color pix of Piacenza. This is the Roman wall we had to find a road to go through to enter the center of the ancient city today.

The sign above this hand drier says insert your hands and rub them and they will be dry in 10 seconds, then in finer print below talks about saving energy, and that cold air uses 80% less energy than hot.

Then, above the hand washing sink is a sign that says they treat you with white gloves, and in fine print that they clean more times a day, and thank you for helping keep it clean.  In terms of modernity, in the mirror, you can see the white radiator to keep the room warm in the winter--they still use radiators with hot water to heat rooms in Italy.

I told Myrna that in the good old days, 50 years ago, for lunch, we stopped at a bakery and bought a roll, which the baker sliced for us, then went to the salami shop and the clerk put some nice (thinly sliced) salami or ham on it, then we went to the cheese shop and another clerk sliced us a nice piece of cheese, and we ate our panino (what Italians call sandwiches like this), as we were walking down the street, or we would stop at a park bench or someplace handy.  So today, we were hungry and it was hot outside, so at the mall we went to a large supermarket at the air conditioned shopping center and bought a couple of fresh cibata rolls (about 35 cents), a package of sliced ham (1.59) and a package of sliced emmental (Swiss, with holes, still my favorite) for €1, a kilo pack of grape size tomatoes (certainly couldn't eat them all), and some Sicilian cookies, with carrot and lemon, which looked better than they tasted, as do most Italian pastries.

So on the way back to the car, with our sacks of groceries, I stopped and sat on the bench near the place where kids can play and took out my little Swiss Army knife, cut our rolls down the middle and inserted the ham and cheese and then preceded to eat our panini there in the air conditioned mall, in a place that wasn't all that busy.  Of course, Myrna was moritified, saying that certainly Italians don't do that sort of uncultured thing in public. I remarked I was sorry but it was hot outside and I didn't know where a shady park was from there and didn't want to eat in the car. So we had lunch, on the left side of the above bench.  But as we were about to leave a young couple, who had been to the same supermarket, came and sat on the seat behind us, took stuff out of their grocery cart and made their lunch and ate it as we had done.  Myrna's only comment was "you win."

Instead of taking the freeway home, we told our GPS to avoid the freeways and take us on the little country roads. So she did, and Myrna took this one as I was driving north to Opera, about an hour. There is corn growing on the left (I did see a harvester in action and assume some of it is ripe)  and, as you can see, many country roads have trees planted along the sides. I have seen pix like this of a guy riding a bike with a long baguette (French bread, but Italians make wonderful ones too), but ours was in the back seat.  We had a very nice Saturday again in Italy today.

Ciao for now.