Poggioreale is a province of Trapani that was destroyed by a massive earthquake in 1968. Instead of being rebuilt after the tragic event the city was moved to a zone nearby most likely as it had been considered a safer spot at that time.
One of the few places in the world,where time stopped running and everything remains unchanged. The uniquitous silence hits you from everywhere, lurking around every corner. Only from time to time it's being distorted by a former Poggioreale citizen coming back to recount tragedic event to the little ones. As it happened the other day when I was discovering secrets and misteries of former inhabitants of Poggioreale. Old books, commercials, everday life objects. This place seems to make a perfect enviroment for movie directors and in fact several scenes from movies like Malena, L'uomo delle stelle, Il Cinema paradiso were shot there.
As we are walking to reach the car and go back to Palermo a strange voice crops up from nowehere.
API (bees) - this is enough to convince me that I'm in danger, hence I start running to avoid being stung by a bee.
The strange voice now appears to be a man in his 70ties. He wears a red polo and speaks in a sicilian dialect that for me unfortunately is almost incomprehensibile. Maybe I mange to get hold of every second word as he yapps away continuously. Basically I'm nothing but eavesdropping on their conversation and sometimes I pretend not to understand the dialouge even if I do. I do appreciate a compliment of being gauged as 22 year old girl, while facing my 29th birthday. Those little innocent lies...
As we continue walking Poggioreale loses it charm of being dabbed one of the most deserted places ever due to newly-wed couple on their honeymon. For circa 10 minutes I don't know anymore which language to speak. She was trying to discover the story of her Italian grandmother spurting single words in Italian with an amazingly strong American accent( which I find very cute not that my accent is any better as to say) to be able to communicate with il siciliano. In the meantime I have no idea how to translate 'muratore' to English. Neither me nor il 'traduttore giurato' friend was able to solve the riddle. I belive it had put us in a little embarassing situation. In the end we manage to escape the awkwardness but still followed by il siciliano who defiantly persuades us to join him for a coffe or a glass of wine. Adding up to this embarassement I try to get into his car by mistake.
For security reasons I belive we had to skip the hospITALI(A)TY of il siciliano.
One of the few places in the world,where time stopped running and everything remains unchanged. The uniquitous silence hits you from everywhere, lurking around every corner. Only from time to time it's being distorted by a former Poggioreale citizen coming back to recount tragedic event to the little ones. As it happened the other day when I was discovering secrets and misteries of former inhabitants of Poggioreale. Old books, commercials, everday life objects. This place seems to make a perfect enviroment for movie directors and in fact several scenes from movies like Malena, L'uomo delle stelle, Il Cinema paradiso were shot there.
As we are walking to reach the car and go back to Palermo a strange voice crops up from nowehere.
API (bees) - this is enough to convince me that I'm in danger, hence I start running to avoid being stung by a bee.
The strange voice now appears to be a man in his 70ties. He wears a red polo and speaks in a sicilian dialect that for me unfortunately is almost incomprehensibile. Maybe I mange to get hold of every second word as he yapps away continuously. Basically I'm nothing but eavesdropping on their conversation and sometimes I pretend not to understand the dialouge even if I do. I do appreciate a compliment of being gauged as 22 year old girl, while facing my 29th birthday. Those little innocent lies...
As we continue walking Poggioreale loses it charm of being dabbed one of the most deserted places ever due to newly-wed couple on their honeymon. For circa 10 minutes I don't know anymore which language to speak. She was trying to discover the story of her Italian grandmother spurting single words in Italian with an amazingly strong American accent( which I find very cute not that my accent is any better as to say) to be able to communicate with il siciliano. In the meantime I have no idea how to translate 'muratore' to English. Neither me nor il 'traduttore giurato' friend was able to solve the riddle. I belive it had put us in a little embarassing situation. In the end we manage to escape the awkwardness but still followed by il siciliano who defiantly persuades us to join him for a coffe or a glass of wine. Adding up to this embarassement I try to get into his car by mistake.
For security reasons I belive we had to skip the hospITALI(A)TY of il siciliano.
