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October 28, 2020Some Italian words stick in my mind more than others. "Senza benzina" are two that I learned from a funny adventure with Pier Giorgio's niece Wanda whose 93rd birthday we are celebrating today.
One day back in 2006, we left the family's summer home in Pollone to drive into Torino for the day. Wanda had some business matters to deal with and I wanted to visit Blessed Pier Giorgio's tomb in the cathedral and attend Mass in his parish church. It was a very lovely fall day and it also happened to be the day of the big market. We visited several places, had a nice lunch, shopped at the market, went to Mass and some time around 8 p.m. were ready to head back onto the Autostrada to return to Pollone.
There were three of us on the return trip. A Polish worker she had hired to do some painting in Torino was going to be doing some work back in Pollone. He sat in the second seat squeezed between some furniture, a load of produce from the market and all of our other purchases.
I didn't speak Polish and so didn't pay much attention to their conversation. It had been a wonderful day and I was reliving a lot of it in my mind. At some point, however, I noticed how animated the young man was repeating the Polish words "tak" and "nie." Apparently, Wanda had trouble driving at night with the glasses she had with her and he was literally our backseat driver. Yikes!
When she confessed to me that she was asking him if red lights were car lights or poles and whether she could change lanes, I pulled out a rosary and began to pray silently. Just as I finished, we reached our exit and left the dangerous Autostrada behind. Whew! My relief didn't last long. The exit required a hard right turn and in the middle of it the engine cut out completely. That's when Wanda looked at the gas tank and announced we were "senza benzina." Bone dry!
The young man and I remained quiet as Wanda became distraught. "Oh Mamma, no benzina!" She apologized and said this hadn't happened to her for at least 50 years. She got on her cell phone and called the house to see if the caretaker could bring us gas. But in Italy, gas stations aren't open 24/7 like in the U.S. and she doubted he would find a station open at that time of night.
For a minute, we were all quiet. And then suddenly we burst into laughter. We were certainly an odd trio out of gas on the side of a road in Italy! After about 10 minutes, I convinced her to try again to start the car based on my unscientific theory that the hard turn had shifted what was left in the tank and maybe it had settled back. Elation! It started and we were wildly on our way - not stopping for red lights or stop signs for fear of stalling out again. And Wanda still not able to see well.
As we climbed the last hill, we passed an open gas station. We were so worried about running out of gas that it didn't occur to us to actually stop and get some! Realizing our mistake, Wanda backed down the hill to the station which was only open for self-service. We had to call someone for directions on how to use the pumps and then finally had the tank full once again. We laughed the rest of the way home.
Later that evening, Wanda knocked on my bedroom door to tell me that it was the kind of situation Pier Giorgio would have enjoyed. He would have thought it a fun joke to take away the gas from a friend's car and leave them stranded. She felt his spirit had been with us. So did I.
Over the years, I made many memories traveling with Wanda by car, bus, train or plane but none as hilarious as the night we found ourselves senza benzina. Today, on her birthday, I wish her a full tank and send prayers for many more happy, holy and healthy years.
Verso l'alto! ///cmw
