Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Celebrating the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul at Sciacca Port

Last year we had to leave our home here for 2 months to return to the states for the summer. As we packed up all of our belongings to store in Paolo’s barn, we wistfully saw them set up for the festival down at the port honoring the saints of the fishermen. Pietro and Paolo share this festival, which leaves Paolo to joke that he only gets half a day while we get whole days for San Francisco and San Stefano. Anyway, he is busy dealing with other things-he has to sink two gigantic retaining rods into the soil in his fertile little farm here to hold up that retaining wall that is still falling. In fact, they are now serious about blocking off one of the most popular beach roads in the area, with cement holes drilled in the road to prevent people from pulling away roadblocks. This necessitates us to go the long way round. In addition, the 21 eggs Paolo bought to make chicks for the little farm here had a bad record of hatching, as he only got 3 out of all of them. He wondered why the hens were not eating too until he found out that the hens were eating the eggs!
Anyway, last night we washed out faces and wiped the sheet rock off of our clothes and headed to the festival, with stops at Paolo’s and Christine and Brian’s boat. It was hot and crowded and the port stank, but we saw some lovely sights. The feste was in several stages along the port, with rides in one part, food and drink, and plenty of junk for sale. The church procession caught us by surprise, so I did not have my camera out and only got a picture of the back of it, but the statue of Saint Peter is being carried back to the church in the port at the head of the line, somewhere in front of the balloon man! Don’t ask me what is with the finger extended up and lit up.

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

QUASI FINITO!

We are ALMOST done with this project. But the devil is in the details-we shall see if we get it done the way we want it. Meanwhile, the guys have invited themselves and their families to dinner this
Saturday. I guess I could make crappy food if I do not like the way it is done!
Meanwhile, the daughter of the couple that lives upstairs had a party last night, a loud party, even though she did not know we would be up at 7 to move furniture and make all kinds of noise. Hope their hangovers were not too bad.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

THE TECHNICOS WILL ARRIVE....

“The technicos will arrive at Baia Renella at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning.” Those thickly accented English words were the signal for mass panic on our part when we lived at Gaspare’s house, for we just did not know what part we would be required to take. They usually came after a bout of no water, electricity, or toilet or some other major physical disruption in our lives. After the first few times we were not quite as concerned for we knew approximately what to expect. But then again, you never knew what will really happen here, even when you think you do. We became used to privations of one kind or another, and what to do when they occurred.
Now that we have our own house, we have our own set of technicos. These are our “guys” as in the phrase, “My guy will take care of that tomorrow.” We have a muratore, Accursio, and his brother-in-law, masons or stone workers who are repairing and painting our sheet rock or gesso walls that are so common here in the Mediterranean. We also have a plumber, a mover, and an electrician. In town, we have our own framer (corniciaio) and our own hardware store consultant (ferramenta). Each of them has their own set of technicos backing them up. For example, we call Accursio the muratore for any odd jobs and he has a friend that is a falegname, a carpenter, who has done carpentry wood work for us. The ferramenta has had screens made for us from another technico. When we had the leaks that ruined the neighbor’s wall, she called her own muratore and plumber since she did not trust ours. And so it goes. Sometimes they are relatives, sometimes they have just been in the family for years and years. But everyone is anxious to share their “guys” with you so that the technico sees that you have brought him business, and maybe will then do favors for the person doing the introductions.
We began with these guys by asking Paolo for recommendations. Unemployment is so high here that skilled workers of all kinds are everywhere. Our friend Antoine, the used car salesman, once told us that he was a good muratore so we could call him if we needed any painting done. For proof he invited us for dinner and showed us the walls of his house, each done in a different kind of heather-pastel color. I was not impressed. We thanked him and told him we already had a muratore.
Nor does it cost an arm and a leg. We have been assured that it is much more expensive in big cities to call a muratore. Here, even a weekend house call is not that expensive, although when we had no electricity and were expecting company for dinner one Sunday, and an electrician Paolo recommended came with a helper and the two of them worked all day, replacing parts in wet sewer holes that mice had chewed through, they did apologize for charging us $100.
But we have also encountered people who have ripped us off and we were pretty sure that they did it because we were Americans, or maybe just because they could get away with it. The system is there to be beat, after all. These guys are working class stiffs who will take whatever advantage they can. They will see a problem and talk you into fixing it as well as complicate things just a bit more than they need to be. A case in point is the infamous matter of the telephone wire that could not be found, so new ones had to be laid and then those wires had to be buried. This was not done by our guys, but by technicos sent by the previous owner who were repairing the floor in the kitchen. They overcharged us and for all we know, split the difference with the previous owner. They talked us into doing it because they were there anyway, but could not give us an estimate (I don’t even know the word in Italian) because they did not know what they would run into.
Workers here that specialize in fixing certain problems do not usually rely on stock store parts. They will make their own pieces to repair things because buying the parts is not an option. Where did all of these tool and dye makers come from? Well, really, out of necessity, and the fact that time is NOT money as it is in the states. Since manufacturing is not at the same level that it is in the US and developed differently, there are no such things as standardized parts or pieces in, for example, toilets. I have written before about how difficult it sometimes is to find the flush or the water tap controls for toilets in restaurants and public places. That is because they are all totally different. You can congratulate yourself on fixing one only to discover a totally different setup in the next one. Anyway, the frequency for calling repairmen speaks to the shoddiness of many products and the lack of consumer protections here.
The technico guys are talked about and reviewed and passed on one to another. Everyone wants to know what to expect from repair work. They also ask point blank what you paid for certain things. We think Gaspare’s crew of permanent technicos is unique, and I venture to guess that a way of paying for them is to let them stay at the place we rented here for certain periods of time.

Monday, June 21, 2004

SUNDAY TRAVELS

We are forced out of our living room by the combined forces of plumbers and muritori (wall workers), so we sit here on the terrazzo thinking about our beautiful day on the road yesterday. We visited a town called Montedoro and saw some Americans we know there who have lived here for 6 months and are leaving for the states now. Kathy and Peter had relatives in this little mountain town north of Agrigento and so determined to spend the first part of their retirement here in Sicily. This town is typical of so many others, and so one feels the familiarity of a Sicilian town, but it also has a uniqueness that makes each locality different.
Montedoros history was one of sulphur mining and large landowners who controlled the mines. Many families had to leave this area when the mines were closed and many emigrated to France or Belgium and worked in the mines there. So many families still own property in Montedoro, spending half the year there and half the year in other parts of Europe.
Montedoro now has a cultural minister who has some revolutionary ideas of how to attract other tourists to this tiny village. There is a brand new town historical and natural museum in the final stages of opening. An observatory for the province of Caltinesetta can be seen gracing one of the surrounding hillsides. For 10 years now, artists from all over the world have been invited to work in sandstone for displays all over town, not just in its public places. In addition, there was commissioned a study in painting of the process of the wheat harvest, and the murals created are hung on a long wall near the outskirts of town. The public garden also boasts a lovely amphitheater that has performances almost every night in summer. All of this cultural activity is unusual in this area which is in the heart of wheat growing country in the interior and in many ways reminds me of Pietraprezia. And my ancestral hometown does NOT contain any fancy stuff like this!
On the way home we stopped at San Leone, hopping to catch some of the first annual Sicilian folk dance festival. Alas, we would have had to wait on the lungomare, the shoreline of sleazy shops on the eroded beach, for an hour or more for a performance. So instead, we sneaked shots of some of the dancers, and others gladly offered themselves. They were so cute! Maybe next year.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

ITS A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

This is the beach around the bay from us, at Capo San Marco. Bella, non?

Saturday, June 19, 2004

First Tomato

In case you have not gotten your first one yet...things are really late in Sicily this year. But the basil and tomatoes in pots are doing great.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

NEW NAME FOR OLD ROADS

They have put up street signs with the names of the roads on them. As anyone who has visited us knows, there is no direct way to get to the main road from our house. First you must go down to the sea, second along the sea, and then up to another corner to turn onto our road that parallels the main road and the sea. This “horseshoe” shape had previously been unnamed to the best of our knowledge. We knew all of it as Contrada San Marco, which is the name of the main street. Our niche here on Baia Renella is part of Capo San Marco, or San Marco cape, which you CAN see on big maps.
Well, no more anonimity! Not only did they finally get it together to clean the beach of a year’s accumulation of natural and man-made crap, but also they put up easy-to-read signs. So now the way is guided by the meaningless names 1) "Via Arenella" (no picture going downhill, sorry) 2)“lungomare Giovanni da Procida” (lungomare is any street along the shore) 3) and “Via della Lanterna.”
I’ll have to ask Paolo where these names come from-remember the naming of the street after his uncle. The people in street naming are famous for some local reason. I guess I understand the "Arenella" from the name of the Bay (Baia Renella), and the Via della Lanterna must be because of the light house (“il Foro”) that has historically been located on the road to Sunset Point. Interestingly, our street still does not have a name, and it is known only as the street where Residenza Baia Renella is located.
We swam a bit yesterday again although the rain and cloudy weather cooled it down a bit. But it is nice to just sit on the uncrowded beach in the sun and read. I have a feeling we will need to get to the beach to escape the confusion in the house everyday soon. The next week is a big construction week with us so stay tuned.
Here are pictures of the beach cleaned for the one time all year. Look at the track marks!! There is definitely less beach this year than last year.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

SIRACUSA

We went to Siracusa this hot weekend to see the production of Oedipus Rex at the Greek theater there. Last year’s production was one of the highlights of last summer, so we were looking forward to it a lot. And we were not disappointed! I swore I would bring my camera this year because I forgot it last year, but alas, it was not in my purse where it was supposed to be. So these are taken with the old camera with almost no zoom capabilities, so they are mostly far away. But click on each one, and you can see it better.
Everyone knows the story of Oedipus, how he inadvertently kills his father and marries his mother. So he is cursed, and his kingdom of Thebes is hit by a plague (hence the dead bodies all over the stage in the beginning). It was all pretty easy to follow, and our Italian is one year better, so the script in Italian that you can buy there was a cinch to follow. Once I got the main characters straightened out though, I did not even bother with the words, but settled down to enjoy the marvelous acting, dancing, costumes, lighting, music, and especially, the use of the Greek chorus. I enjoyed this aspect last year, and this year it was again terrific. The members of the chorus started interacting and piling up the bodies almost from the beginning. It was a wonderful way to set the mournful tone of the whole piece.
We had seen rave reviews in the papers that spoke of packed houses of over 10,000 nightly. But as we looked at the theater, we could not figure how they could get that many seated there. I guess maybe Friday was not a sold-out night. They did not open the upper balcony (“S” section) where we had bought tickets, and we had gotten there an hour early, so we got a lot closer than we might have and had seats in the shade right away. It was hot-in the high 80’s by the time the sun dipped behind the far seats.
The production was very dramatic, and the special effects all worked wonderfully. The play started at 6:30, and ended before 9, so it got dark while things were going on. The last scene where Oedipus goes to hell was especially dramatic, as the lights and smoke of hell caused the perching birds in the nearby trees to wake and fly around as if it were morning.
This morning we got up early and walked to the market on the island of Ortygia. Today and yesterday were voting days in all of Italy, so we saw thousands of flyers all over the ground (Siracusa is a REAL dirty city!), and a bunch hung up like at this service station. We enjoyed the market as always, and as I write, I am eating my dinner of fresh sweet corn. Oh, is it good! I know we have told you Sicilians do not like corn on the cob, but there it was, an early treat! I bought a packet of seeds from the states and planted about half last week to see if I can grow corn here. We also went to the shrine of the crying Madonna and the Paolo Orsi museum, which had some great displays of funeral objects from the Siracusa area. On the way home, Etna was as clear as I have seen it all year, but the whole interior seemed to be on fire from grass fires now that haying is underway. We stopped at Lower Enna (Enna Bassa) and found a good trattoria for pranza. Then home again, home again, back to the other Sicilian shore.

Monday, June 07, 2004

A NIGHT ON THE TOWN

Last night we went into town for dinner. We reached Piazza Scandaliato as the sun was setting. I had forgotten about the sound and the sight of all of the birds in town rushing to get a good perch for the night on the trees in the piazza. It is too bad that the pictures cannot depict the wheeling flight and the screeching sounds, but the whole scene was intense and exciting. I remembered seeing it for the first time in about 2000 when we visited Sciacca with my niece Amanda, who was stationed in Naples at the time.
The port is filling with luxury yachts, giving our friends Christine and Brian some toney company. We looked toward the radio tower near our house at Capo San Marco, and the sky was just beginning to turn pink. Time to return to Sunset Point and get more pictures soon. I looked down from the piazza while I took the port pictures, and I was reminded of how the entire town is built amidst fragments of the old town walls, as seen in this picture of the garden below the piazza. Paolos brother-in-law bemoans the lack of preservation of the old structures, but I think that it is charming the way you happen upon something centuries old so often.
The Trattoria Bocaccio was back to normal, this time without their American chef with the Brooklyn accent-she is too busy with her second baby girl to work much, the owner explained. So as we asked about menu items and recommendations, he slowly admitted they were out of this and that. I settled for delicious spaghetti with “frutti di mare,” or local seafood, and Steve had spaghetti with bacon, onion, and tomato sauce. Then back to our waterless house and dreams of showers today. I am glad to say that Accursio the handyman came through, the water is back on, and now I cannot wait for my first shower in 36 hours.

Sunday, June 06, 2004

Back again

We love being back, but we are so tired! Things have not really gotten back to normal except that we have another leak in the wall, another water problem in a pipe in the bidet, so it feels like living without water at Gaspares. The weather is fine, the beach was beautiful today. Much more later.