Perugia is…

Perugia is a place in time. It is “ a long time ago, in a kingdom far far away”.

It is aching legs and firm buttocks.

Perugia is a siren song that you wake up to every day, a fountain pouring its history away, on and on, until you learn it by heart.

Perugia – a mob of life thirsty revolutionaries, trying to change water into wine, wine into beer, beer into all other kinds of precious concoctions.

It is where we are free, or we think we are, where we cut our ties and our umbilical cords and try to get used to the ease with which we now move.

It is the dizzy feeling of “what now?”.

It is saying goodbye, and saying hello in another language.

Perugia – a name that becomes so familiar, even if it seemed so frightening some seconds (or was it months?) ago.

New friends, new songs, new rhythms, old body, old clothes, new rooms to fill.

Shaping our old into the new boxes, transforming ourselves into dough, modeling what we can, sharing with others what we can’t and what they need to understand. Perugia is a constant exchange of “I’m from, and I …”, a never-ending series of self-portraits, our tongues brushing the canvas so many times that we learn ourselves by heart.

Perugia is the not so cheap chocolate, the slices of experience with mozzarella that we buy at every corner: 1.50, and 1.30, get 10 and then receive one free.

Perugia is its students, Italian and foreign, huddled up together in the tiny streets, yet not bumping into each other that often.

It’s parties for the takers and culture in every stone and wall for those who want to breathe it. Concerts, weekly dosages of them, stairs and people laughing until hours so late that they become early. Heights and wind, fog and sunlight streaming through the corners and cracks.

It is what we created, all of us together, and for everybody new it changes.

Rain pouring rapidly down into the valley, tiny metros floating above it all, safe from the waves of the city, with its drivers that never want to stop. Perugia is dot dot dot. and much more.

from such great heights

Perugia asks, with its Etruscan, Roman, Italian and now international voice: ”What am I to you?”.

About Mara Ambrosie

"I contain multitudes" W. Whitman. *poză de www.cataling.blogspot.com
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Perugia is…

  1. raluca says:

    Perugia nu seamănă cu nimic din ce am văzut până acum

  2. Kerstin says:

    oh mara, what a perfect description! when i read that i want to go back although it feels so good to be home…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s