This afternoon I heard the distant sound of a trumpet playing a haunting tune. Curious, I looked out the windows, trying to see if I could find where it was coming from. I checked from the balcony—nothing; kitchen window—nothing; bathroom window—much louder but I couldn’t see anything. Then I heard some drumming…could it be a procession? Maybe it was some saint day that I was not aware of (I’m actually not aware of most saint days—SO un-Italian of me). I finally gave up and continued cleaning paint drops from the furniture.
After a few minutes, the music got so loud it was like it was right below the windows. I ran to the kitchen and peered down to the parking lot. There was no procession, it was a small gypsy band serenading the neighborhood. So that's where the music was coming from! They were really good!
Gypsies have a lot of connotations attached to them--mostly negative--like the widely known issue of pick-pocketing and their chaotic, messy camp sites that caused their recent expulsions from France. But the most common element of this group of nomadic people is their ability to play music. From the subways of Paris, to alley ways in small towns, to squares throughout Europe, gypsies play great music. When I was living in France, I always loved that my caffé crème or my salade de chèvre chaud would be accompanied by lively music played on a fiddle or an accordion. And I would always give them change because hearing live music brightens my day and that is certainly worth the change in my pocket, right?
But today, I didn't even need to leave the house! My apartment was filled with great music for at least 10 minutes and after I dropped a little baggy of change, I was serenaded from below my window. Click play to here my serenade...