An elderly woman once told me that during extreme droughts in Lodè, some people had a macabre habit. In the village ossuary, there was said to be a skull with a red ribbon, known as “Angelica.” During dry spells, this skull would be taken secretly, removed from the ossuary, and immersed in water: a real ritual to ask Mother Nature for rain.
I don’t know if this story is true; I only heard it once. Perhaps it’s a legend, or maybe it’s a memory of a ritual that really happened. But every anecdote carries some anthropological truth, and the fact that this ritual was done in secret is no coincidence.
The island had a pagan soul, and the Church imposed itself by force, discrediting rituals, masks, fires, and dances for centuries, trying to erase the symbols people identified with. Yet these rituals were not empty superstition: they were liberating gestures, a way to believe we could influence events and were not completely at the mercy of fate.
The Angelica ritual was clandestine. Although Catholicism had been imposed, people were not truly Catholic. Deep down, they remained tied to pagan rites and beliefs (something we can still see today in people or celebrations that call themselves “Catholic,” yet follow practices contrary to Church rules).
On one hand, there was the fear of breaking the rules; on the other, the irresistible urge to stay true to oneself. If this resonates with you, it’s no coincidence: we all share certain human experiences, and among them is the fear of courage, the courage to live openly as we are. Humans fear judgment and consequences, so we often retreat into secrecy. The same dynamic that existed in pagan rituals continues today: many hide their true selves and conform to others’ expectations, especially in small communities.
But the human truth never disappears. Even in Sardinian celebrations, under a Catholic name, signs of that ancient, rebellious freedom emerge. Take, for example, the festival of ‘S’erimu’ on January 16 in Lodè, where transgression and rule-breaking are more alive than ever.
What is imposed from the outside often stays on the surface. Deep inside, however, our true desires and convictions strive to emerge. Repressing them doesn’t make them disappear, they simmer within, threatening to destroy us if we don’t listen.
The choice is ours: we can have the courage to build a world of our own, made of who we truly are, or live in the world others have decided for us. The truth inside us never dies. We can let it live openly, or, like in the Angelica ritual, hide it and lock ourselves in a life of shadows and repression.
