I took these photos quite a few years ago in a small town in the south of Italy. It was Ferragosto and everybody was celebrating – the dancing was just starting as we arrived. I felt out of place at first, overdressed as I was, coming straight from the nice restaurant where we had dinner. But such a trivial matter made no difference in that small town square, where vibrant traditional music sipped through old walls and narrow streets, invading every fiber of our beings. People were just people for one night, it didn’t matter who they were, what they wore or what language they spoke. It didn’t matter that I was still struggling to understand their dialect, it didn’t matter that my Italian friends had immediately disappeared into the crowd, joining the dancers. I soon understood that I didn’t need to know anyone or anything, not even the steps to the pizzica or the tarantella, that night was all about enjoying the moment. They had accepted me as one of their own even if I couldn’t dance their dances or speak their dialect too well 🙂 … That was the night when traditional folk from Southern Italy appeared to me more welcoming and open than ever before, thus proving once more that music, dance and celebration help us relate on a completely different level.