Toto, I don't think we're in Arkansas anymore!

Giussano really is a magical place over the rainbow. Biking from my home in Paina to the gelateria downtown, my host brother, sister and  I pass a makeshift shrine to Maria. It stands about seven feet tall and shrouded in flowers. The statue of La Donna herself is slightly above eye level, with arms outstretched. Her face is tilted to the side, with a matronly expression which seems to gaze adoringly at passersby. After the children payed their respects, we continued on down narrow winding roads past slightly grimy but charming apartments. I lagged behind the others, trying to take it all in- the sound of cars zooming by, the delicious smell of bread wafting from the nearby pannetoria, and the faint chill so different from that in Arkansas. At the gelateria, I ordered a cone with two scoops; one chocolate and one vanilla. The chocolate was rich and creamy, the vanilla subtle and sweet. I relished every bite. When we had finished eating, we biked to the chiesa (church), a plain red brick number with a stain glass rose adorning the relatively unembellished front. I entered hesitantly, not wanting to disturb the quiet. I padded silently to the nearest pew and knelt, admiring the crucifix that occupied the front of the church. I began to pray, thanking God for the beautiful opportunity to come live in such a beautiful place as Italy. I prayed for health and safety for me and my family, thanked Him for safe travels, new friends and old friends, and just kept praying. I had lost track of time when a small cough from the back of the church informed that it was time, once again, to return home.