My Red-Capped Cobbler

March 27, 2010

Ciao Cobbler!

On my first visit, I gave to you a beloved bag with a dangling strap.

You smiled, squinted over it, and cobbled it up.

Charge: gratis.

On my second visit, I gave to you a bad boot.

You smiled, squinted over it, and cobbled it up.

Charge: €1.

Viva my Red-Capped Cobbler!

Cobbler in Southeast Sicily, copyright Jann HuizengaClick to subscribe to BaroqueSicily.


Like the Rose

February 17, 2011

Sicilian men in Butera, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

La vita umana è simili a la rosa.

Human life is like the rose.

xxxxxx

*Old Sicilian Proverb*


A Cupola in my Computer

January 16, 2011

If icicles dangle from your lashes and hoarfrost coats your lips, I’m sorry.  Really, I am.

Here in Sicily the sun warms my limbs as I work on my tiny balcony. And reflected in my computer screen is an image that makes my heart burble:

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla reflected in a computer screen, copyright Jann Huizenga

You know how some people have a zillion photos of their dog, or their kid?

I’m obsessive that way about my cupola.

Cupola of the duomo in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily at dusk, copyright Jann Huizenga

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla, copyright Jann Huizenga

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Cupola in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

What would you like reflected in YOUR computer screen?

***

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Day of the Dead

November 2, 2010
(first published Nov 2, 2009)

A few years ago, I wanted to buy a ruin of a house on a solitary road out beyond the Ragusa cemetery. Sicilian friends (perfectly rational, well-educated ones) said I was matta, insane, that I’d be visited at night by dead souls.

“What do you mean?” I hollered. “I live two blocks from a cemetery in the US and I’ve never seen a ghost!”

They looked at me mournfully and insisted that the danger was real. They themselves would absolutely never pay me a visit there!

So I gave up the idea of that house with its faded pink walls, shocked at how alive the dead are in Sicily.

Sicilian cemeteries are always set well outside of town behind imposing walls. Below is the Scicli cemetery, full of mausoleums, magnificent pines and tall cypress.

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Cemeteries here are well-tended, with custodians and on-site florists. They seem to be open most of the day, even during the long lunch break.

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Many of the tombs show pictures of the dead.

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Streets have names, just like in a real town.

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Today is il Giorno dei Morti, Day of the Dead. Sicilian families flock to cemeteries—arms overflowing with lilies, mums, roses, and daisies—to spend time with their dearly departed.

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Eating Seabiscuit in Sicily

September 24 , 2010

My butcher’s selling something new, something grim.  It looks disturbingly like  Seabiscuit.

Ad for horse meat in Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

I feel alone, among strangers.

Nearby Catania, the city under Etna, has long feasted on horse. They grill it over red-hot coals, and turn it into a great big horse-burger.

Do you believe in following local customs when you’re in foreign lands?

I’m repulsed, but curious.

Should I? Would you?

***

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