Turin: The Terrible

    We finally made it to our first destination; Turin. We really only had two reasons to visit Turin. a) Our professor told us there was a spectacular Egyptology museum there. b) We wanted to go to the Waldensian valley. Our professor gave us the number of a tour guide who could take us to the Waldensian Valley. I texted him and hadn't gotten a response, so we were sure we wouldn't have a chance to do that. Which was disappointing, but in the end, we figured there would be enough to occupy us in the city. 

   Wrong. Our first impression of Turin was not the best. The hotel that we had booked was nice enough, but it wasn't in the nicest part of the city (turned out that none of the city was really nice). When we went out that Sabbath to explore, it was pouring rain and the entire city felt like it was abandoned. It took us twenty minutes of walking really sketchy streets before we actually reached the Old Town City Center, and even that was lacking much luster. With the rain, the damp fog, and how quiet the city was, the anxiety I had been experiencing persisted throughout the day. 

I know it looks pretty but it's a Facade.
I was always watching my 
step in Turin.

The coolest thing we saw in Turin was 
this Roman gate. This and the Po River, because, I mean, 
it's the Po River. 

On one of the main streets, there were a bunch of bookstores set up
I kept finding Spaghetti westerns which I thought was cool.
I'm a big fan of Spaghetti Westerns, Ennio Morricone, and Clint Eastwood
so this was a little treat. I got yelled at for "slamming" a book down though. :(

We went into the meat market out of curiosity
but left pretty quick because I couldn't
handle the smell of blood for long. 

Honoray Tiramisu mention. Sabbath evening after sunset
I finally ate a meal. It wasn't that good though. 

   So at this point, my first impression of Italy was being solidified and it wasn't looking good. Milan and Turin struck me as dirty and unsafe, the trains were dodgy and tardy, and the people were abrasive and rude. I was beginning to feel reasonably discouraged and overwhelmed as reality hit me; I didn't feel safe. Yes, the cities were sketchy, but that wasn't the main thing making me ill at ease, it was simply that I didn't feel in control. I felt marooned. There was nothing I could do to correct the situation, no home to run to or person to help me, and I still had hardly eaten a full meal in three days. 

   I think God really came through at this point because the tour guide for the Waldensian Valley reached out to us on our first night in Turin and apologized for his late reply. He had been on a mission trip in Ukraine and offered to give us a tour on Sunday. This saved the trip and made Turin worth it (mostly).

   If you aren't familiar with the Waldensians, the simple answer is that they were a sect of Christians who didn't identify with the Catholic Church. Because of this, they were relegated to living in the Valleys of the Italian Alps above the Piedmont Valley where farming was much more difficult. Usually, they were able to live there in peace, but every so often, the Church would pressure the local government and they would be persecuted and killed. However, their faith in God remained unshaken and they continued to abide by the Biblical truths they knew, such as keeping the Sabbath. They would train their young men in religion and send them to local universities as ministers.

   When our tour guide, Matthew, picked us up at the train station on Sunday, I immediately felt safer than I had in days. He was good friends with our professor and had a strong Christian faith which was very evident in the way he treated us and talked about the Waldensians. He was also extremely knowledgeable and it was such a blessing to here about history without God being left out. Not only that, but I grew up learning about the Waldensians. So, getting the opportunity to see the places where they prayed, fought, and died for Christ brought so much more weight to the Childhood stories I had grown up hearing.

The Waldensians often held church in this cave.
A few important elders were holding a meeting here when
Soldiers came and cut off their air supply and lit a fire at the entrance.
Nobody survived. 

The College of the Barbs, where the young men were 
educated, was only a small stone house with a stone table. 

I crawled down the tunnel that Joshua Gianavel, a strong leader of
the Waldensian people, started digging as an escape route in his house.
It was really special to visit his home because the story of Joshua Gianavel
has been very important to my dad for quite some time now.
Hopefully, I can bring him back to see it for himself someday.

      The valleys where the Waldensians lived are absolutely gorgeous. The day we visited they were smothered in a deep fog and the small springs gushed with water from the previous day's rainfall. Autumn had colored the leaves orange and spiky chestnuts blanketed the forest floor. The roads wound up through the valleys to little stone towns that seemed to drip down the mountainside. Shepherds led their goats and sheep along the roads to the meadows, and the light tinkle of cowbells echoed through the villages. It was special to see a part of Italy that most probably do not. One plus side to this whole trip was that I certainly saw a variety of what Italy has to offer. 

I was finding sherds of pottery all over the paths 
that led from village to village. 

   For the duration of our stay, Turin became known as "Turin the Terrible" and we were excited to leave. Florence was next and I was praying it would be better.