Saturday, January 31, 2009

Sand Boats - Take Two











After our second winter here, Fran decided that there were probably sand boats every year. Above you can see the sand boat from our second year here. At first, we thought it was pretty funny that people would leave their boats tied to the sea wall on the beach, or tethered to buried anchors in the bay, for the winter, and then winter storms would come and wreck havoc with them.

Of course, as we got to know the people here, we discovered a few things. First of all, while sand boats can seem pretty funny, they are not funny for the people who own them, or for the friends of the people who own them.

Second, of course, is that there is a learning curve. The sand boat we saw our second year here was owned by my (now) friend Renato, who lives in Palermo, and now he comes down about twice a month to get away from the stress of his working life. As you can see above, he has been more careful with his little sail boat, and he keeps his other 'replacement' boat safely in the supervised port in Sciacca.

Unfortunately, that did not stop my friend Angelo from anchoring his boat in the bay, and leaving it to the whims of heavy wind and surf for a little too long. Luckily, it was his 'old boat', and his newer better boat is safely stored on a trailer behind his apartment here.

Germany - The lost pictures


Just like Thanksgiving pictures, some pictures from my first few days of my Germany trip appeared in my camera. These were pictures from when I was staying with my friends Nadja Rakowitz and Ralf Klinke. Nadja is just coming out of her house prepared for the rain with her umbrella. The castle is in her home town of Aschafennsburg, where one can get the wonderful beer that is brewed according to the old chart of the Schlappeseppel Brauhaus wall. I am so glad I found the pictures, because it brings back what a wonderful time I had there.















Arbitro Arbitro


When we first came to Sciacca, I remember going to one of the Sciacca Soccer games, and was amused as the fan yelled that the referee was a 'Cornuto'. And yes, I did say fan, because I did not really consider myself a fan at that time, and the only other person in the stands was the one who yelled that. Of course wives and girl friends were along the sidelines, but they did not really count in terms of this.

Quando siamo venuti per la prima volta a Sciacca, ricodo che siamo andati a vedere una partita de Calcio dello Sciacca, ed èstato divertente sentire un tifoso urlare all'arbitro 'Cornuto'. E si, io ho detto tfoso, perchè io non mi consideravo certo un tifoso ai quei tempi, e l'unica altra persona presente allo stadio è stato colui che ha gridato. Naturalmente mogli e ragazze dei giocatori erano presenti sul camp ma non potevano essere considerati spettatori.

Anyway, Sciacca did not have a professional quality team, and indeed they have gone down two leagues since then (the last two teams in any league go down one league the next year, while the top two go up one league). They are now rebounding and trying to climb up out of the nether regions of city soccer in Sicily.

In ogni caso, Sciacca non ha ancora una squadra di alta categoria, in effetti da allora sono scesi di due categoriae (le ultime due squadre de qualsiasi lega scendono di un camionato l'anno successivo, mentre le prime due salgono di una categoria). La squadra è ora in ripresa e cerca di salire verso le categori regionali superiori.

This is a shot of the fans at Santa Margherita. As you can see, it was a cold day, and it was actually kind of funny watching the soccer players play with their sleeves pulled down over their hands to keep their hands warm.

Questa è uno solo dei tifosi de Santa Margherita. Come potete vedere, è stato un giorno freddo, ed è stato effettivamente divertente guardare i calciatori con la maniche tirate giù sulle mani per tenerle al caldo.

Anyway, my friend (and Fran's cousin) Fabrizzio called me one day to see if I wanted to go to a soccer match with him in Santa Margherita. Of course I did. Especially since his son, Sergio, was going to be the arbitro for the match. (He is the guy dressed in black on the field.)

Communque, il mio amico Fabrizio (e cugino di Francesca) un giorna mi ha chiamato per chiedermi se volevo andare a vedere una partita de Calcio con lui a Santa Margherita. Sicuramente risoposi, in particolare perchè suo figlio Sergio, aritrava la partita. (Lui è il ragazzo che inndossa la divisa nera in campo)

Sergio is a young man still in high school, one of the most pleasant young men I have ever had the opportunity to get to know. He was selected for training as a referee, and he works one or two games a week. They are not the games played by adults at this point, but rather the games that are between the soccer schools of the various communities in this area. The game I attended was between a school at Santa Margheritta and a team from Ribera. They were kids in their early teens, and it was much like Babe Ruth League Baseball, or midget hockey in the states.
Sergio è un giocane che frequenta il Liceo, uno dei ragazzi più (piacevoli) che abbia avuto l'opportunità di conoscere. Lui è stato selezionato per fare il corso di artitro e dirige una o due partite all settimana. Non arbitra ancora incontri di squadre di adulti, ma piutosto incontri tra campionati giovalili e di scuole calcio dei vari comuni del territorio. Il match di calcio di fronte la squadra giovanile del Santa Margherita ed una di Ribera. Sono ragazzi della prima quindicina di età paragonabili al 'Babe Ruth League Baseball' oppure al 'Midget Hockey' negli Stati Uniti.

It was fun watching Sergio take control of the game. He did this by whistling a change of possession every time the ball went out of bounds, and the player throwing the ball in stepped over the line as he threw it in. It happened about five times in the first ten minutes, and at that point the kids learned to be more careful with the line, and they also learned that the arbitro was going to watch them and call a close game. And he did. He called it close, and he called it well.

E' stato divertente vedere Sergio prendere il controllo della partita. Lo faceva fischiando il cambio di battuta ogni volta che la palla andava fuori dal camp, e i giocatorei barttevano il fallo laterale con lie mani oltrepassando la linea di riferimento. è successo circa cinque volte nei primi dieci minuti del match e a qusto punto, i giocatori hanno imparato a prestare maggiore attenzione alla linea, e hanno anche imparato che l'arbitro era sempre vicino al gioco e li teneva sotto controllo. Cosi ha fatto, ha dondotto il gioca e lo ha condotto bene.

Of course, just like stupid hockey moms everywhere (sorry Sarah, I know that pit bulls wear the lipstick, but I still would like to see you behave better) the coach from Ribera, which was behind most of the time, was unhappy. At one point, Sergio stopped play and went over and talked with him for a minute, and he calmed down after that.

I sequito, giusto come gli stupidi moma di Hockey dovunque (Scusa Sarah, io so che i Pit Bulls si mettono il rossetto, ma mi piacerebbe verderli comprtarsi bene) l'allentore del Ribera che era rimasto in desparte tutto il tempo, era insoddisfatto e si lamentava. A questo punto Sergio ha fermato il gioco ed è corso a parlare con lui per un minuto, quindi si è calmato.

Amazing (to me) how well and how maturely he handled both the players and the coaches.

Mi ha sorpreso come bene e con quanta maturità ha trattato i giocatori e gli allentori.

If I did not think he was going to become a famous Nuclear Physicist or Linguist or some other highly intellectual profession (he is as smart as a whip) I would expect that he would be able to make a really good living being the referee in Series A, Champions League, and UEFA cup games.

Io credo che se non diventerà un famoso Fisico Nucleare oppure un Poliglotta o ancora qualche altra professione intellettuale (lue è tanto elegante quanto veloce) io mi aspetto che sia in grado di diventare veramente un arbitro di Serie A, Champions League, e UEFA Cup.

Bravo Sergio, tu e Grande.

Good Job, Sergio, you are GREAT.

Lost and Found, Thanksgiving


Anyone who has been kind enough to keep reading this knows that I somehow lost the pictures I took at Thanksgiving in my camera. Well, I seem to have found them. So herewith are a few photos from that wonderful day, the first is of the hostess with the mostest, Jacque, who is now preparing to leave Sicily behind and head back to her other home in Hawaii, along with Rob, who is in the second photo attacking the turkey, the hardest of all jobs on Thanksgiving Day. His efforts are being largely ignored by the other Thanksgiving guests they were so nice to invite to dinner.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

HAPPY NEW YEAR


NEW YEAR'S MORNING, 1-1-2009


Monday, January 05, 2009

Alessio on St. Stevan's Day


After spending Christmas Eve with Paolo, Ignatzia, and their families, and then Christmas day with Petra, Lutz and Klaus for a wonderful meal at Hostoria del Vicolo, I headed into Palermo for my onamastico (Saints Day) with Angelo, Franci, and Alessio.


Alessio has been having a hard time with flue season, as have Angelo and Franci. So sometimes one or the other will keep Alessio and the other parent will try to recover at the grand parents house. Like so many babies in Sicily, the grandparents are an integral part of the raising of the child, so I think that Alessio may not even know the difference. It is a good thing that Franci can get these kinds of breaks, as Alessio is expecting a little brother this spring. He seems to be happy with the news.

Franci still works at her parents clothing shop, where even the other clerks take over with Alessio when he comes in to work. Angelo right now is waiting to be called back to work at the car rental agency he worked at. He is currently laid off until the tourist start to return to Sicily in big numbers. Meanwhile, he picks up odd jobs when he can find them, and takes a lot of shifts raising his son, as well as helping his father out at the frame shop.

We left Alessio with grandparents, and had our second annual St. Stevan's Day pranzo at Il Vespri, a great restaurant near Teatro Politeamo. We ate there last year with Jon, Steph, Jess and Dustin, and they continue to serve wonderful food with great service.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Happy Solstice

The shortest day of the year began spectacularly.

























Merry Christmas


The Agape Staff Plus Francesca


Many of you know that for Christmas presents to most friends and family, I chose instead to up my giving to two organizations. One is the Tanzania group, spearheaded in Sciacca by Rino Marinello, my friend and former landlord, and a doctor who not only was helpful to Fran when she was ill, and to me when I needed an operation, but also who spent time in Tanzania volunteering his skills to the people there.

The Board President Checks Out the Pastry at the party.

He is also the city minister in charge of services for the differently abled, and as such had to chain himself to the doors of city hall until they again promised to put in an elevator so that he could reach his office! Truly a good man.


The other is Agape, a non profit organization here in Sciacca that tries to provide day programming for differently abled adults. I say tries to, because it is not always easy. They had to fight to get space that had been promised them by the local, partly empty hospital, to provide the programming and therapy. They had to make the little building they were given to use accessible. They have to fight to get the funding they are supposed to get from the region and the nation, and they have to beg the city for additional funding. This also means that they must charge the families a fee for their service, and not all families are wealthy enough to pay for the service.









So each year I have made a donation to them, and somehow because of that, I have become a part of their family. Now you too are a part of their family, because by not getting a Christmas gift from me, you made a donation to them.

The Best Adapted
Physical Education
Teacher I have met
EVER

His whole attitude is infectious


At the Christmas Party this year, I was torn in two directions by the folks. They wanted me to take their pictures, and they wanted me to eat the pizza and arancini that they had. We finally settled on putting a sack of pizza and arancini in my car, leaving me free to take pictures.

The pictures start with the staff together, along with Francesca, who always greats me with a big smile, and tries to punch whoever comes up to me next. We are wise to her ways, and she does not get the punch in, then she smiles, gives me a big kiss on the cheek, and wanders on to get into other trouble. The pictures end with the last picture I took. The young man is wheelchair bound, and has one of the biggest smiles I know. I saw him the first year we were in Sciacca, at an Agape dance sponsored by the boy scouts. He was being carried around the dance floor by the physical education teacher, and he was as happy as could be. He is becoming more verbal, although it takes a lot of concentration on his part to form the words he wants to use. The wish he gave me is printed below his picture, which was taken just after he said it. It basically means 'Best Wishes', and is a common, all purpose, festive greeting.

auguri !!

Friday, January 02, 2009

You can't see that from here

Three Thanksgivings ago, Fran and I were driving Jon and Stephanie to Taormina, for one night there before they flew on to Berlin from Catania. As we drove from Agrigento to Caltanesetta, Jon said that he thought he saw Etna. I told him I thought he was probably wrong, because one could not see Etna from there, indeed, one needed a very clear day to see Etna even from Enna. I told him we might be able to see it once we were beyond Caltanesetta, or beyond Enna. Jon accepted this like Gospel.

Last Thanksgiving, I was taking the same route as I drove toward Nicolosi to spend Thanksgiving with friends. I looked to the right as I passed the spot where Jon imagined he had seen Etna. Here is a public apology to you Jon, I was wrong, and you most likely were right. Good eyes.

Speaking of Puns

When I was in Palermo with Angelo and Franci for St. Stevan's Day, Angelo pointed out this restaurant to me, fairly close to Piazza Politeamo.
The way the sign reads, it is either the old restaurant of a small appetite, or the old restaurant of the small penis. Who knows which they mean. Either way, I probably will not go their to eat any time soon.

An Italian Pun

First, a few digressions.

When we first arrived, barely speaking a word of Italian, we were told that puns do not exist in Italian because it is such a precise language. Well, it is indeed precise, but as I have learned more and more Italian, I have found that Italians do indeed use puns as a source of humor.

Second, a word about the mafia, particularly the mafia in large cities. While the mafia seems, or reportedly make most of their money through drugs, prostitution, and skimming government contracts, they still make a lot of money through their specialized insurance business, known in America as extortion. There have been many 'Stop the Pizzo' campaigns, particularly in Palermo, pizzo being the name that is given to the money (or piece of the profits) that the mafia collects.

As a final digression, some of you may know me well enough to know that sometimes at 3 or 4 in the morning I will wake up laughing. I wake up laughing because somehow, in my sleeping dream state, I have thought up a new joke. When this happens, I try to decide if the joke is worth keeping or not, and if it is, I write enough of it down to remember it, then I can re-judge it in the cold light of day. This is one that made the cut.

Well, there has been a fairly massive dragnet for mafiosi in Palermo. Over 100 people were arrested and put in jail in just two days. Most of the arrested were the leg breakers and car burners whose job it was to go around their neighborhood and collect the pizzo. This has left the bosses with far too few workers to get to all of the store owners for the regular collection.

So ever clever, the bosses have set up small storefronts where the business owners may come and pay their tribute each week. That is why, when you are in Palermo, you will see so many pizzorias.

ADDIO FILIPPO


As I have written earlier in this blog, which you will see below this, just before my trip to Germany I got the news that Gabriella Chinnici's father, Filippo Chinnici, had died in Palermo. I was devastated. I had been thinking about her step-father-in-law Gianni, as well as about Fran as the second anniversary of Fran's death approached, and I felt ill equipped to deal with yet another death.

I will not try to say that I knew him well, I only met him twice, both times at Friend's Pizzeria, which Gabriella's husband (and Fran's cousin) Fabrizio owned and ran. Both times I met him, he seemed a kind and gentle man. The second time was at the party for the closing of the Pizzeria, which was a sad occasion, and I remember he thanked me after I stumbled over my thanks to Friends for feeding us so many times during our first year in Sicily, and how they had truly become friends. Indeed, it was at this meal that we discovered that Fabrizio and Fran might be cousins.

I did not know him well, but I do know his daughter well, her love of music, her love of family, her willingness, indeed her eagerness to help me when I lost Fran. I remember clearly seeing her in the parking lot of the central post office, and she noticed the pain in my face, and asked what was wrong, and when I told her about Fran, she could not believe it. The next night she insisted I dine at her house with her family, and we spent the evening in fond recollection. I have eaten at that table many times since, and watched Palermo play many soccer matches at their house, and soon will be going to watch their son Sergio referee a soccer match in Santa Margherita.

I believe that Fabrizio and Gabriella have two wonderful kids, and the kids are wonderful because of the parenting skills of their parents. And Fabrizio and Gabriella do so well because of the models they had when they were parented, Fabrizio by Giovanna, and Gabriella by Filippo. That is a fine testament to the type of man he was. We need more like him in this world, and his presence will be missed.

I did go to the one month anniversary mass that was held in Palermo. I rode up with Fabrizzio, Sergio, and their beautiful and intelligent daughter Michella. As we rode through the cloudy and at times rainy valley, we were accompanied by a series of rainbows, rainbows marking the passing of a good man, and hope for the future.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

On Koln (Koeln) (Cologne)

I had always wanted to go to Koln (it should have two dots over the o, or else have an oe, or I could have given it the French spelling of Cologne) , ever since being introduced to the music of Keith Jarrett through his Koln Concert. This desire was fortified when Fran and I flew in and out of the Koln airport when we were on our way to Amsterdam to pick up Jon and Stephanie for Thanksgiving the November before Fran died. I had timed my trip so that I would be in Koln on the second anniversary of Fran's death.

I left Mannhiem in one of the wonderful Inter City Express (ICE) trains, which hugged the shores of the Rhine as it flew north at 200+ kilometers per hour. The many castles that line the Rhine were barely able to peak through the fog, but they were certainly impressive.

After checking into my hotel, I went straight to the Cathedral, as had heard that it was beautiful. It was the kind of thing that Fran would have done, and I wanted a holy spot of some sort to meditate about her for a little while.
Indeed, it was beautiful, both inside and out. I sat in one of the pews for a while, just thinking. Before I knew it, a prayer service started. I kept my seat, and continued to meditate. The prayer service ended, and I continued what I had to do. I thought about Fran, and our wonderful times together, and how much she would have enjoyed seeing this wondrous building. I thought about Fabrizzio's step father, who was so friendly to us, and who died this year. I thought about Petra's father, who welcomed me so warmly, even though he did not know English. I thought about Gabriella's father, who I had only met twice, and whose death, when I heard of it just before leaving for Germany, paralyzed me in my grief.

The priest approached me and asked if I needed his help. I told him 'no, that I was just meditating'. When I got up to leave the Church, I realized I had been sitting there for three hours.

I stopped on the way out to light candles for Fran, for Karl, and for Filippo. I do not know the significance of lighting candles, but it seems to be important to remember the dead in this way, and Fran always liked candles burning in the house.

When I left the Cathedral, I wandered through the neighboring Christmas Market, and ended up buying two key chains for my niece and nephew. It was the first time I had seen the name Jonas on a key chain, so I figured 'Why not?'. They tell me they liked the gift. Early the next morning, I was off to the airport and Palermo.

Mannhiem Day III

My third day in Mannhiem, I went to the Mannhiem Christmas Market. Petra had something to do in town, so she gave me a ride in. First she showed me the 'normal, regular' Christmas market near the water tower. Then she dropped me off by a much smaller Christmas Market. This market had only artiginal crafts, and it really was what I hoped to see.

They even had a Merry-Go Round with wooden horses and figures, much like the ones that were located just outside my hotel room. Of course the ones in the market were not for sale!!









That night, I was fortunate enough to go to the office Christmas party for the CAD and computer business my three friends run. It was at the Kronen Hotel and Restaurant in Winehiem, and for the first time in my life I got to eat foods like Schmaltz and Goose. Oh my, my doctor would not like to see what that meal was doing to my diet. But it was a wonderful evening of food and fellowship as I got ready to leave for Koln (Cologne).



Mannheim Day 2

My second day in Mannhiem, I used the morning to get a little bit more than my fill of the mall experience German Style. I walked over to the Rhine Neckar Centrum shopping center, and wandered through the mall for a bit. While the food stands had a particular German flavor to them (all sorts of good pastries on display), the stores were basically the same as American stores, and the clerks looked as hastled and underpaid as American store clerks, and the shoppers seemed as harried as American shoppers. I ended up filling my rucksack with fresh mall air, and then walked back to my hotel where I met Klaus.

Klaus had a mission for the afternoon. We had to go to the Rhine Pfalz wine area and pick up several cases of wine to be used as Christmas and New Year's gifts for the clients of my three friends. Now that is the kind of Christmas shopping I really love.
The winery looked like most wineries in Sicily and California that I have been in. Endless piles of bottled wine, barrelled wine, and cases of wine. I wonder how long I could live in one of those places if they locked me in with nothing but a cork screw and a barrel tapper. Hmmm, I wonder if I could get locked it. It might be worth it.
The woman who ran the winery was very knowledgeable, and even though Klaus had a particular shopping list for the thirty or so cases he needed to buy, and she was ready for him with the wine, and a little gift of wine for him, she also took the time to give me a taste of several of her wines. I suppose it is a good thing she did, as I ended up buying a mixed case of German wines to be shipped to me, for those times when I get tired of the wonderful wines of Sicily. She spoke some English, and we talked about the wineries she had visited in California, although she thought they could not compare at all favorably with her white wines. She might be right. I don't know, I just know they were good, and I was indeed surprised how good the whites were.

This gave me the idea of spending a week in the wine areas of Germany, or maybe of France, driving from small town to small town, staying in small hotels, and trying all the wines I could. I am trying to talk my friend Carl into just such a trip, maybe next fall. I am also hoping to take a course in wine tasting given by my friend Nino of Hostoria del Vicolo this winter.

After bring the wine back to the office, Lutz joined us on a trip to Speyer. Speyer is a Cathedral City, and the Cathedral is known for having the crypts of 8 German Kings and Emperors, including some who had the title of Holy Roman Emperor. A bit in front of the alter is a huge crown hanging from the ceiling, which I believe may represent the at times bitter feelings between the heads of state of Germany and the Vatican, which had sole authority for seating Holy Roman Emperors.

Fran and I had visited it once, and it is a beautiful Cathedral. This time, Lutz, Klaus, and I did not go in, but just walked by it. As we walked by, the bells began to peel, and the town filled with the noise of the ancient bells. It was about fifteen minutes of wonderful bell music. Walking through the lightly falling snow and the wondrous sound was almost a magical moment.

Across from the Cathedral started the Speyer Christmas Market. We walked through. In many ways, it was like all the other Christmas Markets I had seen, only more so. I tried to keep track of the stands, and I think there were more food and wine stands than there were gift stands. In that way it really reminded me of the Cracker Barrel Fair and the Memorial Day Salute in Fulton. Of course we had to stop and get a bratwurst fresh off the grill as we walked back toward the Cathedral and the Dom Brauhaus, for some of their great local beer.

The next day Petra told me that Klaus and Lutz always go to the Speyer Christmas Market because they have the best bratwurst. I will believe it, and trust their taste and the research they put into the subject.