Thursday, March 17, 2011

Battle of the Oranges

We should have read more about the Ivrea festival before we went, but a mock battle that pits neighborhoods against each other sounded like fun. From the crowds of Italian's streaming into town, old and young alike, we would have never known the danger that lurked ahead. Why are they all wearing red caps and why is that banner promoting death?

Upon arrival in the old town, we watched a parade that featured knights on horseback, floats with candy throwing festival queens, bands, and groups of people in fine period costumes. We also got our first clue about the mock battle: horse drawn carts were carrying fully armed warriors, who were wearing American football pads under their coordinated jerseys and who had face masks that a Canadian hockey goalie would be proud to wear.

The parade ended, and we followed the crowd and the noise. We entered a piazza, which was packed full of people and the strong scent of orange. Our jaws dropped as we watched the horse-drawn carts slowly work their way around the piazza one at a time. The dozen or so people in the cart and the hundreds in the piazza were engaged in all out war. The weapons? Oranges, of course!

Jim moved closer to the action with his camera exposed (veteran photographers come with their camera gear wrapped in plastic), but I smartly stayed at the edge watching the battle from a distance and getting good views of pulp-encrusted soldiers leaving the field. Was that blood or blood oranges?

After an hour of observing this bizarre event, we decided to leave. I said to Jim, "I want to go closer to the center of the piazza to see the carnage while there aren't any carts here." Just as we got to the center another cart entered. It was exhilarating to be so close to the action, but I finally wimped out and started to seek safer ground.
As I turned back once more to see the action, I took an orange to the left eye. My glasses were flattened to my face and covered with pulp! I grabbed Jim and told him I was wounded. He took me to the red cross tent where I received ice for my injury and the condolences of the medical team. (The other patient was suffering from alcohol abuse and was being treated with an IV! As you might imagine, there is a lot of alcohol involved to bolster the courage of the troops.)

Had I done my research before going to the festival, I would have bought a red hat. Almost every spectator was wearing one because it protects you from getting hit by an orange. My hat was blue.

Here is a video clip that Jim took. The gasping noise followed by laughter is Jim getting an orange to the stomach!

1 comment:

  1. What a bizarre event! What is the historical basis for this? But I enjoyed approach you took...bummer about the glasses! I bet an orange to the face would hurt!

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