Carnivale III - Floats in the historical center

Peppe Nappa

He holds the keys to the city, and leads all of the Carnivale parades, only to be burned on the last night of Carnivale (actually at about 4 in the morning on Ash Wednesday). He does not seem to mind, and this year, he rode into town on a wine barrel. A fitting image for him, I think.


Well, yes, there is a real Carnivale. It has outrageous floats made of a hardened paper mache with metal piping serving as the skeletons, it has groups of kids from all of the schools dancing, as well as groups of older kids from the various dance troops dancing to the songs specially written for each float, it has parades, and it has tons of people.






To the right is Silvio, riding Alitalia airlines into the ground. The floats usually have some sort of political meaning, and this was the year Italy had to give up its flag carrier to private enterprise.


Frankly, going to carnivale in the evening is a bit much for me. The first few times were fun, but then the outrageous crowds, the drinking, and the noise got a bit much for me, so this year I just went down for the children's parade on Saturday afternoon, and was able to see all the floats lined up for the procession, and some of them actually going through part of the parade route for the children's parade. It was enough for me.


This is Barack Obama, riding into town on a bull. I think one of the things that it symbolizes is that Barack is bullish on America, and more and more, among the people I talk to, so is Sicily.


I talked to a person at the local Mail Boxes Etc that I use, and he told me he was delighted that Carnivale was over. He lives in a small apartment along the parade route, and when I asked him if I could watch the parade from his house next year, he told me that there would not be any room. Everynight he is invaded by fifty of his best friends, who stay and drink until the wee hours, watch the procession, and have a grand old time. He ends up getting no sleep for the run of carnivale.

With that being said, here are some images from this year's Carnivale.

To the left is someone riding into town on a pig (porca miseria, which literally means miserable pig, but is used in the same was as 'holy cow!).







On the right is Michael, Marilyn, and Elvis, the great American trio, backing up president number 44 and his bull.







Okay, riding into town on a wine barrel, a failing airplane, a bull, a pig, then why on on an inner tube at one of our many beaches, or on a dragon, as the chinese merchant, one of a growing number in Sciacca and in Italy, are in these photos.










These are the kids who danced infront of our president. They are bulls, bull fighters, and butterflies. Their parents have charge of the ropes, keeping the kids together as much as they can.






Back to the politics(left), there have been many problems with water being lost, creating problems for residents in cities. Maybe it is not just the old pipes that are to blame!!








Sometimes Carnivale is nothing more than a time to get together with friends and get a bunch of stupid looking hats from the mechants who come to town for Carnivale.




And sometimes it is nothing more than a time to get an even stupider wig, and dance through downtown as if there was nothing better to do in the whole world, and maybe there is nothing better to do.








With all of these visitors, they have to stay somewhere. Some people bring their own hotels. This group of campers appeared in the dilitante port area almost overnight, and there were other parking areas set aside for them as well. In the background you can see Capo San Marco, where I live.







Finally, a shot of Elvis as a third story man, and Marilyn getting ready to flash people as they watch from their terraces. This gives you an idea of how high these floats are.

Complimenti to all the groups that thought of the ideas for the floats, and put them together. It was a good time, few people got hurt or arrested, and the city has just about returned to normal. Of course Ash Wednesday is not celebrated here, however on Carnivelone, the day after Carnivale, the schools remain closed so that families can recover, usually with a nice picnic in the countryside.

Carnivale II - Chiacchiere

Of course the floats are colorful and wonderful. Of course the dancers are cute when they are little, and sexy as they get older. Of course the area around the procession is incredibly crowded with folks from all over (It was estimated that there were over 50,000 visitors in Sciacca on Saturday night for the festivities - and that was probably also true for Sunday night and Tuesday night). And of course, but perhaps surprisingly, most of the people ignore the floats and the dancers, and stand along the parade route talking to folks that they have not seen since last carnivale, or maybe just since week, or yesterday, or maybe even this afternoon.

Therefore, there is a special carnivale food, just for this tradition. It is a deep fried cookie called a Chiacchiere (that means to gab, or to gossip) and it gets its name not just from what happens at carnivale, but also from the fact that it is shaped like a wagging tongue.

Of course Ignatzia sent me a batch of chiacchiere, and also my friends at Paneficio Americano kept giving me some everytime I went in to get my daily bread. Herewith is a photo essay on how they are made. (By the way, they taste wonderful!!)

Of course school is closed for carnivale, so even the youngsters get to come in and help out the family as they make the wagging tongues. Not only to they get to help make them, but I am told they even get to help eat them!!





Even Calogero steps in to give his wife and his grand daughter a break, and to make sure that Salvatore and Fillipo are making them correctly.



When they are all cut, they leave it to the expert work of Maria to fry them in the hot oil. She knows just when to take them out so that they will be at her best.





Then they are placed in a LARGE basket to cool down a bit before they are sold to customers. Of course they had to warn me not to eat any of these, because they were too hot, and besides, they were 'not quite ready.'



Having cooled down a bit, and then sprinkled with powdered sugar, they are brought out to the customer area of the bakery, and sold to all the people who love carnivale, love catching up with old friends, and most of all, love chiacchiere!


Maria's twin sister Paola refused to have her picture taken with the Chiacchiere for this post, however she did not notice when I took her picture waiting on a customer.

Carnivale I - Agape

Carnivale started for me before the carts were being put together on Via Cappucini. It started at Agape, where the staff had helped the parents and students devise simple and effective carnevale costumes, and everyone got together for a family meal of pizza and arancini. I will let the pictures pretty much speak for themselves.

It's not WHAT you eat, it's WHEN!!

I recently found out that perhaps the best time to eat is in the middle ages. Oh yes.

Ho scoperto redcentemente che forse il momento migliore per mangiare è stato nel Medioevo. Oh sì.

My friend Fabrizio called one day to ask if I wanted to go to an exhibition that some students at his high school were putting on. Fabrizio teaches Front Desk there, as well as sometimes serving as Vice Principal. It is a high school for students who want to get into the hotel business, and actually gets students from around the area, not just Sciacca.

Un gioro il mio amico Fabrizio mi ha chiamato per chiedermi se volevo andare ad una esibizione teatrale che alcuni studenti della Scualo Alberghiera de Sciacca mettevano in scena. Fabrizio insegna 'Front Desk', e funge anche da collaboratore della presidenza. Si tratta di una scuola ssuperiore per gli studenti che vogliono entrare nel settore alberghiero, ed è frequentato da studenti provenienti da tutta la provincia e non solo di Sciacca.

Anyway, it was being held at Complesso Fazello, a former convent near Porto Palermo. I met Fabrizio there, and we waited while the kids got things set up. It started with two students in costumes reading welcoming proclamations to a grand medieval feast. They were in wonderful costumes, and following their proclamations, we were all invited inside, where we witnessed a play from those times, complete with a juggling jester between acts. Then the students, who had pretended to be sitting down eating when they were not on stage, brought out the food, and began serving it to the 100 or so guests. You can imagine what that was like, what with the courtesy of line behavior that is always shown by Sicilians. Of course I was lucky, Fabrizio had my back, and he kept on going behind the line to get me plates of antipasto, lamb, pork, fish, chicken, veal, castrato, and on and on and on.

L'esibizione si è tenuta pressos il Complesso Fazello, un ex concento, vivino Porta Palermo. Ho incontrato Fabrizio, e abbiamo aspettato , mentre i ragazzi si preparavano. Tutto è cominciato con due studenti in comtume che hanno letto dei proclami per una grande festa mediovale. Erano abbligliati in costume d'epoca, e in sequito noi tutti siamo stati invitati all'interno di una sala, dove abbiamo assistito a recite medievali e giochierie di un buffone di corte. Poi glie studenti, gingenvano di partecipare ad un banchetto medievale (quando non erano empegnati a recitatre) ad altri servivano portate per preparare il buffet per tutti gli spettatori. Ptotete immaginare cosa è successo dopo con tutte le persone che hanno assalito il Buffet. Comunque, sono stato fortunato, Fabrizio da dietro il tavolo ha preparato per me dei piatti di antipasti, agnello, maiale, pesce, pollo, vitello, castrato, e così via.

I had not known it was to include dinner, so I did eat sparingly, but what I had was wonderful.

Non avevo previsto quella sera de cenare, così ho mangiato con parsimonia, ma quello che ho avuto è stato meraviglioso.

The play was well done, the food was excellent, the organization was superb, and the students were all friendly. It was a great show, and the parents, school administration, teaches, and most of all the students should be proud.

L'esibizione è stata bella, il cibo ottimo, l'organizzatione è stata eccellente, e gli studenti sono tati tutti amichevoli. E' stato un grande spettacolo, i genitori, la scuola, gli insegnanti, e la maggiore parte di tutti gli studenti dovrebbero essere orgogliosi.

Below is Fabrizio standing between the program organizer (Leopoldo Verngallo) and one of the student chefs.

Qui di sequito Fabrizio al centro tra il responsabile di Cucina (Prof. Leopoldo Vernagalla) e una studente di cucina.

Traduzione ed adattamento linguistico di Fabrizio Ricotta.

Translated and adapted linguistically by Fabrizio Ricotta.

Sicilian weather in January, 2009

IT RAINED CATS AND DOG!!


(All animals provided by Paolo and Ignatzia. Few animals were hurt during this entry.)

Fran Two Years On

Fran Two Years On

Fran dopo due anni

I wake to our alarm clocks
The sun’s and mine
Somehow set to the same internal time
So we both may make our faces
Before greeting each other
As my Luna Park ride
Careens closer and closer
And the sun seems to rise from the mountains
As you snuggle in for one more warm nap

Ci svegliamo con le nostre sveglie.
Il sole è anche mio
sincronizzato in qualche modo con il nostro orologio biologico.
Così possiamo entrambi ricomporre i nostri visi
prima di salutarci.
Quando la giostra del mio luna park
gira sempre più vicina
e il sole sembra sorgere dalle montagne
mentre tu stai accucciata per un caldo pisolino in più.

The fresh roast beans are ground
Suffer the boiling water
Leaking out their perfume and essence
I sit on the terrace
Waiting for the smells to entrance you
Out of the bed and back to our world

I chicchi di caffè arrosto sono macinati.
Metto l'acqua a bollire.
Spandono il loro profumo e la loro essenza.
Mi siedo nel terrazzo
aspettando che gli odori ti portino
fuori dal letto e di nuovo nel nostro mondo.

As you sleep on
I take the last few dozen oranges from the shed
Just about to turn or mold
Or whatever it is they do when they give up
Juicing them so as not to waste them
I turn to look for you
As I taste the freshness they have provided
Over the last few weeks
In my mind’s tongue

Mentre tu dormi ancora
io prendo le ultime poche arance dal capanno
che stanno per andare a male o rammollirsi
o qualunque altra cosa facciano quando marciscono.
Mi volto per guardarti
mentre assaggio la freschezza che hanno offerto
nelle ultime settimane
con la lingua della mia mente.

The juice waits patiently for you in the frigo
You liked it even before your coffee
And certainly before the taste of toothpaste
Yet you sleep on
As I come to terms that I shall never more see you
Coming out from the bedroom door.

Pazientemente il succo ti aspetta in frigo.
Ti piaceva anche più del tuo caffè
e sicuramente più del gusto del dentifricio.
Tu dormi ancora
quando io finalmente realizzo che non ti rivedrò mai più
uscire dalla porta della camera da letto.

Translated with the help of Reanto, Aurora, and then Francesco. My thanks to the three of you.

CONTROLLO

I went to Ospedale Il Cervallo yesterday for a six month check up. The doctor was very happy, and quite pleased that the net he had built between my ribs and lungs/diaphragm/spleen was holding up perfectly. He wants to see me at least one more time just before the summer.

However, that was not the most interesting news of the day. The weather was. It has rained almost every day since Christmas here in beautiful Sicily. We should have enough water to get through the summer, even without using the sometimes broken desalinization plants in Gela, and the silting in of some of the larger reservoirs. However, we shall see.

But it did not rain yesterday. As I drove up the main artery from Sciacca to Palermo, I saw snow on top of some of the mountains. Old Gibellena ruins were covered in white, as were the ruins of Poiggiareale. However the new towns were unaffected. Maybe that is why they built them lower.

Eventually, after San Guiseppe Jato, I saw signs advising me to turn back if I did not have snow tires or chains. Well, I am used to driving in the snow in the US, so I decided to go on through the mountain pass above Palermo. It was slippery, and of course there were only tire tracks to follow, as they do not have a whole lot of grattaneve here (snowplows to you), but proceeding slowly, it was not bad. The sun had hit the long bridge just below the crest, so there was no ice to content with.

And yes, it was pretty.

Old Trees

There is an olive oil producer in Sambuca who has a tree that is reportedly well over 500 years old. He has used this to market his oil as a specialty in the US. He presold by subscription half liter bottles of oil that contained some oil from the olives of this tree, for an incredible price, something over 100 dollars per liter. The going price here is 4-5 Euros per liter for good fresh oil. The amazing thing is that trees reportedly produce their best oil when they are between 20 and 150 years old. After that, their production begins to fall a bit, and their quality remains the same, as that is determined by the soil, the weather, and the production method used.

However, I did think you might want to see some pictures of some olive trees that are that old, and that are still producing olives, however the oil from these trees is in the 4-5 Euro range, far saner than the boutique oil that some feel destined to pay for. (I wonder if the world economic crisis will effect the cost of his oil, or at least the subscription rate for his oil.)

OIL 2008

Last year was one of the best years for olive oil that most of my friends have experienced. The quantity was good, and the quality was out of site. Of course I wrote reams of things about it on this blog, but I just realized that I have not written about the 2008 crop.

Of course whatever oil one does not use one year must be relegated to a new role of starting barbecue fires and lighting the way with oil lamps. One just does not use old oil here. Not when there is fresh to be had.

I also must admit that when I lived in the states, we used a liter or two of olive oil a year. My usage has gone up to about 10 or 15 liters per year, and I always get fifteen liters to see me through the year, which leaves enough to light fires with the next year. I thought I was using a lot of oil, but then I found out that it is normal for a family of two to use fifty or more liters a year, and of course if at all possible the oil must be from olives grown and pressed by a friend, or at the very least the friend of a friend.

The Planeta family has started an olioficcio near here, and one of their oils is considered one of the best 30 olive oils in the world. Their land, and indeed most of the land around here, is in the Mazz de Vall DOP, which is a special area for olives and olive oil, and the growth and production are carefully monitored in order to gain the DOP designation. This DOP includes land in all of the Palermo province, as well as in the area along state route 115 from Castelvetrano to Ribera, and includes mountain villages like Caltabellota and Calamunaci.

A friend of mine in the states, who prides himself on his gourmet northern Italian cooking, was actually excited when he heard that I lived in this DOP, as even he was willing to concede the oil from this area is the best.

But as usual, I digress.

Of course I got some oil from my usual friends. Toto brought me oil from his olivetti in Caltabellotta, and Pascal and Toto of Verditecnica again gave me some of their oil from the hillside behind Sciacca. Calogero, Maria, and Paola Colletti, of my favorite panneficcio, gave me some of their oil. I bought a good bit and sent it on to the states or carried it over when I went for Jon's wedding, so I still needed to visit the Cucchiari brothers olioficcio here in Sciacca.

I had a friend from Germany with me, and when we arrived I found my friend Acursio from Agape unloading his olives. He offered to sell me some of his oil, again grown between Caltabellotta and Sciacca, so we made arrangements to buy six five liter cans from him.

Of course we had to make sure it was his oil, so he made arrangements for his oil to be pressed at 6 AM the next morning. When we got there, not only was Acursio waiting, but also my friend Calogero, who had been a waiter at La Vela restaurant at the port, and was working at the olioficcio again, as he waited for the rebuilding of the restaurant he had moved to to be rebuilt after a fire had destroyed it.

The picture at the top is of the three of us getting together, as Acursio's olives are being pressed.
The next picture is of the olives waiting to be loaded into the processing plant. Then you can see Acursio overseeing the olives being washed, crushed, and the oil being extracted, until the golden green oil pours out the other end, where it is again filtered, then weighed, checked for acidity, and finally stored in huge storage tanks, after the owner of the olivetti has taken his (and his family's and his friends') supply of oil. There it waits to be bottled or canned and labelled and shipped out, or it waits for bulk containers to be shipped to other producers, to be mixed with their oil to bring the quality up (and the acidity down) to 'Extra Virgin', as this is the best oil around.

Italian Royalty

I have finally met a member of the Italian Royalty. What an experience. He is a Duke, and to avoid any unknown or unforeseen repercusions, I will not mention his name. However, he and the Duchess were at a fancy dinner I attended. When it was my turn to meet him, I walked up and extended my hand and said 'Buon Giorno, e piaceri', which means 'Hello, I am pleased to meet you.'

He and the Duchess just sort of looked at me, leaving my hand extended, and looked through me as if I were not there. Fortunately a friend took me aside and told me that when I was addressing any sort of Royalty in Italy, it was customary to make a slight bow to them when I spoke to them. So I went up to him again, extended my hand again, greeted him again, and made a slight bow from the waist. He smiled and shook my hand warmly, saying in perfect English that he was very pleased to meet me, and was glad that as an American I had decided to settle in Italy.

We spoke together for about ten minutes, and each time I said something, he ignored it until I had made my little bow. It almost became second nature to me.

Our paths crossed several more times during the evening, and each time when we spoke I remembered to bow politely after each time I said something. We got along well, and he invited me to his country estate to see the land and take whatever pictures I might want to take. I was thrilled by that. Aside from the bowing bit, he really was just like everyone else. Molto Gentile as they say in Italian.

At the end of the evening, people lined up, and the men each approached the Duke, then dropped to one knew and extended a hand to the back of his calf as they said their good byes. He would smile, they would stand up and shake hands with him, and be on their way.

When it was my turn, I walked up, dropped to one knew, took a hold of the back of his calf, and pulled his leg, just as I have been pulling yours.

With apologies to Tom Waits. (Alice)