My Volunteer Experience in Molfetta Blog

After all, it was the perfect place to discover Southern Italian authenticity. The young people who have a slightly different approach towards waste collection. The customer service which most of the time consisted of grumpy middle aged women. The cocky attitude people had towards others who they should have supported. The lack of collective consciousness since if it's not mine, I don't need to care about it.

But also the grandpa who goes to his campagna every day even after the age of 80 to take care of the lemon tree, the cucumber, the fig tree. The square full of people even around midnight. The boys randomly kicking the ball in front of the church. The priest whose preaching is more like stand up comedy that pulls in even little kids. (Stay calm, Lord, Roman Catholicism is not totally lost yet!) 

The religious festivities, they were awesome, standing in the middle of the crowd at 3am waiting for Jesus and Madonna on their long and miserable way to Heaven - or wherever, I'm not that knowledgeable in Bible studies-, with orchestral music in the background and darkness in the town, in front of some really medieval looking building. I felt like I'm in Bergman's Sixth Seal, I just couldn't find Max von Sydow in the crowd!

The infinite amount of drinking fountains on the street when I wasn't thirsty. And the lack of them when I was.

The che cosa cerchi?'s of local guys on Tinder, the sea water that was so easy to swim in but also hell when it came to making my hair in need to wash every half a day.

Our drawn angel in the flat who protected our boiler from breaking down for the 56. time (thanks, Angel❤️, I know it was you after all, not the boiler technician!)

So many things that don't come to mind in an instance but stay with me along the way. Now it just feels like a collection of impressions that might be able to make some sense later. 

For the meantime, Molfetta, ci vediamo! Or as Italians say: We'll see;)

Blanka from Hungary