Easter is....

...a time to let your hair down!



...a time to pig out with a honey-glazed ham and good friends!



....a time to share with new friends!



...and most of all, a time to cut loose a bit and have a drink or two!

Good Friday in Enna!

This statue depicts the rebirth and return of Persephone, marking the beginning of Spring. The message was fitting considering we arrived to Enna on March 22, the day after the first day of Spring 2008.

Enna is considered the mythological location where Perspehone was abducted by Pluto to live in the underworld for a portion of the year.



Enna is smack dab in the center of Sicily, about 2 hours drive from home and is a walled, hilltop city - which means it's got all the characteristics of my favorite urban design!




On the left are new arrivals to Sicily Joe and Sue of Philadelphia, along with our friends and their "sponsors" Thomas and Kelly. At Sigonella, they call it 'sponsoring' where you serve as their temporary guardian to help them assimilate into their new life. But often times, it's just typical Hawaiian style hanai ohana. (adopted family).

Good Friday in Enna!

The Lenten season was always a big deal growing up. As little kids we tithed, gave up a favorite food, ate pancakes for supper, collected money for Unicef, got new clothes, and honored Ash Wed, Good Friday and Easter. My parents are devout Episcopalians and I attended an Episcopalian girls school.

So despite my lack of belonging to a singular faith as an adult, I am culturally Christian and the idea of experiencing Sicily's most revered Good Friday procession captured my imagination and heart!



The hooded head symbolizes mourning.

Good Friday in Enna!

The rites of Holy Week date from the Spanish domination of the 15th to 17th centuries when the various fraternities of artisans and artists were authorized to form religious organizations.



They were given precise rules and privileges from the Spanish rulers to look after the sick, poor and unfortunate.



Today, 15 of the original 34 confraternites still exist and animate Holy Week in Enna. The members are no longer miners or farmers, but lawyers, doctors etc. and only, only men.


Good Friday sees all 2000 members of the confraternties march in complete silence and sadness back to the cathedral through nearly all the streets of Enna.

Good Friday in Enna!

The townsfolk take this procession very seriously. After all, in what other context would you dress your little girl as a nun?



And they did not hesitate to tell giggling Americans to somber up and shut up. Tonite, the cobblestone streets of Enna were simply an outdoor extension of a church aisle.

Good Friday in Enna!

Lily white Jesus in a glass enclosed, gilded coffin seems so melodramatic and completely unorganic to me. But this works for Sicily's Catholics. Here he is in church awaiting to be carried through the town.



Now I counted. And it required 80 men to hoist and schlep this down the streets. If you look closely, you can see the cloth covered heads below the coffin in a swaying step procession.



Jesus is followed by the Madonna. Here you can better see all the many heads of those carrying her.I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that Sicilians are slightly obsessed with Mary. Joseph, the father that raised him, gets no props. It's all about the Virgin Mother.

Good Friday in Enna!

Experiencing a church this beautiful, almost makes me want to worship in one again. Hmmmm??? Nah!

Good Friday in Enna!

I like how this book I'm reading sums up a view on Christianity that I share...

"And while I do reserve to right to ask myself in certain trying situations what indeed He would do, I can't swallow that one fixed rule of Christianity insisting that Christ is the only path to God. Strictly speaking then, I cannot call myself a Christian. Since traditionally, I have responded to the transcendent mystics of all religions."



We have buddhas in our home. I've had my sacred Guan Yin for years! I just think growing up in a place like Hawaii where it's truly a melting pot culturally and spiritually, it's impossible to wed one line of faith. Its tradition in Hawaii to have a new house and office blessed. In one of the last places I worked, we had a Shinto blessing, a Hawaiian blessing and a New Age blessing!



Yet another reason why I feel like a funny colored duck in a really foreign pond. This isn't just a one-religion town. It's a one religion country!

Castelmola!

Just a few minutes drive above Taormina is Castelmola, a quaint charming little town of only 1200 residents.



I think the views are even more spectacular here than Taormina. Above the church rooftops, I could see Etna looking like another utopia in the distance.

Castelmola!

Castelmola!

Castelmola - Thru Doors & Windows!

Most of the portals to homes in Hawaii are postively non-descript. Windows and doorways in Italy are all about character and charm and color!



Alice, our feng shui guru, tells us that how you frame your doorway sets the mood for all those who enter your hale.

Castelmola - Thru Doors & Windows!

Castelmola!

When Turrisi returned to Castelmola after WW2, he opened a quirky little shop of novelty odds and ends from hand-crafted chairs to puppets to lemonade. Times were rough and the almond wine maker sometimes waited half a year to get just one bottle to sell his wine in.

Today the shop is now a bar and Turrisi's son still sells his dad's signature wine and kept his father's tradition of a guest book for visitors to sign. But he has refocused the family's nutty little business.

Now put your hand on this penis...I mean door handle...and come on in!





Here's more about Castelmola's famous landmark attraction - http://www.turrisibar.it/history.htm



Now, the Italian penis is quite sacred in these parts of the world, according to an article Lisa Balboni recently sent me. In fact, Italy has passed "don't touch" legislation to deter (mostly) men from grabbing their crotch. While such gestures were once made to ward off bad luck, it's now considered indecent.


While this seriously offends my sense of civil liberties that government should tell me what I can pick, grab, scratch on my own body, it's just another nutty, unenforceable Italian law. Madonna, Michael, McJagger beware!