Community

I have spent the past two months in Italy with a group of twenty-nine fellow college students - nearly all of them from Harvard. This has perhaps been the best trip I have ever been on, and one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

We sojourned over three cities across Italy - Torino, Trento, and Siena, studying the philosophy of aesthetics and beauty. If I had to write about the program at large, I would probably be writing a whole senior thesis with hundreds of pages of recollections, with glowing remarks on every single day of our classes, field trips, and friends made along the way, not to mention substantial praise for the teaching staff of our program. Our journey was nothing short of incredible, and I can even proudly say that I can have a meal in Italy without relying on any language but Italian. Seriously though, language forces you to change the paradigm of your worldview even in subconscious ways. The program certainly immersed us completely within the culture and customs of Italy. My photo album will evoke the episodic memories necessary for me to reminisce on the past couple of months, and I hope that the friends I made along this trip will be long term friends throughout college and life. I know that weeks, months, and years from now, I’ll look back at writings like this one and reminisce about the time I spent abroad.

There is one adventure of the trip I would like to focus on as the true culmination of our time in Italy, and that is the Palio of Siena, which I have been lucky enough to experience for the past week.

The Palio is a horse race. 75 seconds, and that’s it. It seems like nothing, but it is everything to the people of the Italian city of Siena. Occurring twice a year, in July and August, ten of the seventeen contrade of Siena (districts, city wards) run in this horse race dating back for more than four hundred years. I was lucky enough to be assigned, by the fates, to the Imperial Contrada of the Giraffe, with two good friends, Wyatt and Tigran.

I’ve been lucky enough to have travelled a lot in my life. I was born on one continent, grew up in another, study in another, and am watching this horse race on another. The representatives of our contrada, Agnese and Martina, were some of the most kind, welcoming, and sweet people I’ve ever met. We went to nearly every meal together, marched in parades, and sang our hearts out in pride. Having heard stories from the other contrade our friends were assigned to, we understood that the contrade certainly did not have to be as kind as they were to us. Indeed, the traditions of the Palio and of Siena date back hundreds of years, and this is very often a sacred time for the people of this city. And yet, though we were only together for a short period of time, we were accepted into our contrada with wide open arms.

Despite coming so close to winning this year, our contrada experience was simply magical. With our fazzoletti tied around our necks, we walked around Siena every day, proud of our contrada and the community we forged within it. And we could look forward to a night of fun every day, meeting local Sienese residents, witnessing their passion for their city and their people, bellowing their songs as if they were warcries, at the top of their lungs. The energy was contagious, and I’m afraid words will not suffice to describe the emotions I felt and witnessed. It takes something truly special to bring together hundreds of people, all with the same shared community identity. The flags flying, the wine pouring, and the wind blowing - Piazza Provenzano was a truly special place for our group.

Identity. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. Back in America, I used to always say that I was from Australia. But now, introducing myself in Italy, I say that I was born in China, grew up in Australia, and now study in America. Now, having come to Siena, I can proudly say that I am one of the giraffini. I have left a part of myself in Siena.

“Chi da Siena inizia il suo cammin nascendo, non contan l’acque che il vascel solcherà menato dall’onde del fato, perché ovunque si dirotti il suo piede, il suo cuore sempre terrà una torre, uno stemma, una zolla di tufo.”

- Cecco Angiolieri

Something I’ve been thinking about for the past year or so (somewhat evidently) is the idea of preservation. As humans, we don’t have the resources to preserve everything that we produce and experience. This is not only on the micro, individual scale of human memory, but also in how we choose what works of art to store, what stories to recite to our descendants, and what traditions from the past we ought to continue. It’s fascinating that some things have survived for hundreds and thousands of years, and yet we still have the privilege to appreciate them today. I guess that this is what I’ve learnt from reading philosophy together with my class these couple of months - that human judgement is so crucially important for us to derive meaning from the world. I have hypothesised previously that many things we choose preserve, not because they are great or give us glory, but rather because they embody what it means to be human and resemble ideals that we would like to memorialise and serve to inspire the next generation.

The Palio is not a rational race. I don’t think it ever has been. Nearly all of it is fate, chance, and even a bit of bribery. The horse you get, the jockey that comes to your contrada, and the starting order on the day of the race. The horses are separated by seconds at the end of the day, and it’s no one’s fault who wins or loses. Indeed, to some, it might not make rational sense to treat this tradition as something sacred, that ought to held on to and invested in. But yet… the citizens of Siena, they treat it as life or death. If you were one of the 50,000 people born in Siena, the Palio effectively becomes one of the largest parts of your life. The dining, singing, drinking, and laughing together certainly forms the best part of the year for many people.

Perhaps the Palio is not a practical race. But it weaves the people of Siena together into community, into history, tradition, and what it means to be human. The Sienese people are hence bound into the loving fabric of the universe.

Indeed, as the great Italian poet said, “L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.”

Thank you to Agnese, Martina, and all the citte of Giraffa. And of course, Prof E and the whole teaching team of our program this Summer. Saying goodbye is always hard, but we know that it is our duty and what fate has ordained for us. Tonight, we didn’t say ‘farewell’, but rather, we said ‘goodbye’ and ‘see you later.’

I know that for me, and my friends, it has certainly been a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I will remember Siena and Giraffa for a long time to come.

Yurui