Aosta Mountain Summit

On Sunday we go to the Catholic church in the Aosta town center. Sitting in church and looking at the emaciated, bloody Jesus hanging around makes me think of all the times the cross was used to murder and persecute, to oppress and to inflict pain. I wonder about how it is possible to be so austere and rigid in spiritual observance inside such a beautifully grand building with high arches and so much stained glass. If I close my eyes, I can see drums and dancing and so much soulful joy and gratitude to the divine here; when I open my eyes, I see the pulpit, the empty wooden carved seats where royalty must have sat in days past, and I feel my spine against the flat wooden bench and I see all the little old ladies in their Sunday best dresses and big fur coats. There are no children here. But then the service commences and the priest gives a lot of airtime to Donne di Pace, and even comes over to shake each of our hands and give us a saint card and a peace dove necklace during the service. I remind myself that messengers of the divine take all forms.

In the afternoon we speak in Aosta in a large presentation room that is very high-tech and fancy. Each of us gets a name placard while we talk and the videos are shown on a big screen. The government officials who speak talk about how this has been the month celebrating women, so there have been a variety of events honoring women’s work for peace, and our speaking event is the last event in this series. The day before, a female lawyer from Malawi spoke about her struggle in the Congo. She was the woman of the year in 2001.