A jog down south

A week ago today I was groggily stumbling through the day on about three hours of sleep after a long, weekend starting in Firenze on Friday then down south to the capital city of Sicilia. It was exhausting, but unforgettable being able to experience these two very distinct and diverse cities and two completely different sides of Italia.  
 On Friday I headed out to Firenze with my host mom, Cinzia, on the early train at 6:30am.  As most of the people reading this have had the distinct pleasure of trying to wake me up, it's well understood how much of a feat this was for me. We arrived at 9 in Firenze, grabbed an espresso and headed out to start our day with a visit to the Galleria degli Uffizi.  We walked around the Uffizi for about two and a half hours, trying to take in all the art that the Medici family left behind from the Rinascimento (Renaissance).

 

the view of the Arno from the window of the Uffizi

 From the Uffizi, we headed over to Ponte Vecchio, encountering throngs of tour groups, stopping long enough to take a couple pictures and look in the windows of a couple pricey jewelry shops.

After doing some more window shopping (including finding the Firenze Disney Store!) we found a great café with tasty sandwich options including one that tempted me with tartufo e pecorino stagionato (truffle and aged pecorino cheese).  I ended up trying one with pecorino e carciofini (artichoke hearts) and splitting a giant insalatone di pera, pecorino, e noci (salad with pear, pecorino, and walnuts).  PLUS the wonderful cafè was steps from the Duomo and only cost us 15euro with two sandwiches, a salad, and two 1.5L bottles of water. I was, and still am obviously, pretty proud of our culinary find.
Firenze has a huge amount of tourists and students from America, so I heard a lot of English around me, and it was obvious that the city caters to those English speakers which proved to be kind of a culture shock coming from Ferrara.  It was interested, however, in that being with Cinzia all day I got to speak more Italian there than I have anywhere else.

 We took the train back to Bologna, where her husband, Lorenzo, picked us up and took me to the Bologna airport so I could meet the other three students going to Palermo. The plane ride was quick and painless, and we arrived in Sicilia by 10pm.
It's important to know a bit of history about this city before trying to experience it, and I feel really lucky in that my classes have touched on Palermo multiple times really enhancing my experience. Because of it's location Palermo has been the stage for many important historical moments in the last two-hundred years:
--Italian Unification--when Garidaldi led his army of volunteers from Sicilia all the way to Roma
--WW II--when the Americans used Sicilia as a strategic it's point in the war against Fascist Italia and Nazi Germany
--Mafia Wars in the 1970's through the 1990's
--The current battle which seems to be illegal immigration. The island of Sicilia finds itself in prime location to receive people trying to leave Northern Africa.

We were immediately aware of the difference in culture, in fact before we even left the airport.  On of the students, Mario, was approached by a plain-clothes security official, who asked to see his passport, then led him into a questioning room. We found out afterward that this official suspected Mario of being involved somehow in a drug operation, although we still don't know why.  This first experience with the people of Palermo, however, proved to be a big misrepresentation of the people we would meet throughout the rest of the trip; we found so many people to be very openly friendly and hospitable. One woman, when I stopped in her store to ask directions for an internet spot, offered to let me use her own computer and talked with me for at least fifteen minutes, asking me about myself and my family.

We spent our Saturday footing it around the large majority of the city.  We visited the three main markets of Palermo: Mercato Vucciria, Mercato del Capo, and Mercato Ballarò in which I think the raw Sicilian spirit resides. The markets are largely fruit and vegetable stands, meat stands, and fish stands (in which the testimony of the freshness is the entire swordfish on the table from which each steak is cut).  The Mercato Vucciria used to be the main location of mafia activity in the 80's and 90's, but now is the most subdued of the three.

Another part of the city that really imprinted itself on me was the Alberghieri quarter, which took huge casualties during the bombings of World War II.  The whole city was largely destroyed, but it is in this quarter that you can still see the destruction, as few of the buildings have been rebuilt.  Being able to see this part of the city largely as it looked right after the war is something hard to forget.

Our second day we spent on the beach of Mondello, a short bus ride from Palermo.  We were all pretty tired from the day before and decided to use this time to relax and see another part of the island. We found some more street markets, largely selling scarves, jewelry, and touristy trinkets through which I always find it fun to meander. After watching the sun set over the Sicilian mountains, we caught a bus back to the city and started walking back to the train station to find our bus back to the airport.  On the way, we were caught in a true tropical rain, one in which your only warning is a single drop before the heavens open up a full-on deluge.
One thing that I have learned about most Italians is this: they don't like to be cold or wet.  If you get cold or wet you will get la febbre--the fever (what this is, we really haven't successfully found out.) In order to stave of la febbre, one must NEVER go outside with wet hair, walk around the house without at least one pair of socks, or leave the house after September without a scarf. Needless to say, one must never be caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella and this day was no exception. Once the rain started pouring the state of the streets could only be described as pure chaos--there was screaming as everyone started running in pure panic, in front of cars, bikes, buses, to get to some sort of overhang that would save them from getting wet. The other students and I almost forgot to find our own cover just because we were so shocked at scene unfolding in front of us.  The street vendors were no fools and quickly sold all of their umbrellas to all those cowering under the cover of the store awnings. 
Once the rain passed, we started our long travel back to Ferrara: Bus to the Palermo airport-->plane from Palermo to Bologna-->bus from airport to train station-->train from Bologna to Ferrara-->bike from train station home.  This long process got me back to my house in Ferrara at about 4:30am on Monday morning with a 9am class to get up for. I didn't quite make it to class on time but felt no regrets from they in which I spent my weekend in Italia.