In Closing: Part 3 of 4

Addaura Reef and the Country Club aided our understanding of why so many Palermitans want to go to Miami. Reef is an outdoor lounge situated on the water with the decor and atmosphere of a swanky party in Malibu (lengthy traffic jam, valet line of Porsches, dudes wearing fedoras with jeans and sport coats). Country Club was like any of Vegas' sensory overload stations (mulitple DJs and dancefloors, expensive drinks, fake tans, heels like stilts). My limited interest in dancing wasn't a problem because anyone can do the one armed fist pump while lightly bending their knees to the bass line.

One and Done
Having heard discussion about the local delicacy the entire time we've been here, I finally tried to enjoy pane con la milza (bread with spleen) from the city's most prolific street vendor--Nino Ballerino. Nino's title comes from the dance he does while constructing your salty heart failure: the bits of innards are cooked in a bubbling pot of lard, smothered with parmesan, and sprinkled with lemon. Despite every effort to mask the metallic taste and spongy texture with as much cheese and lemon as possible, I literally choked down the only unpleasant flavor that I have tasted here (other than raw anchovies). When I learned mid-bite that cow lungs are occasionally mixed in to the recipe for no discernible reason, I was done.

Luckily I avoided the other vaunted favorite babbaluci -- snails. These aren't your smothered in butter, salt, and parsley snails of escargot esteem; these snails are flash fried in oil, sprinkled with garlic and pepper, and served with a beer. I hadn't recovered from spleen/lungs/throat yet, so I stuck to the pleasure of simply saying babbalush (which sounds a lot like Vince Vaughn saying babbaganoush in Wedding Crashers).

Segesta, Poggioreale, and Gibellina with a winery lunch in the middle

Seeking an escape from the city, we took a day trip to Segesta with our friends Davide and Alessandro. We hiked to an ancient temple and amphitheater, toured a winery, then ventured to the intriguing modern ruins left in the wake of an earthquake in the late 1960s. The 6.8 quake struck a series of small villages, the most devastated being Gibellina. Beyond the initial damage, residents suffered tremendously from freezing temperatures because the military and rescue workers were not able to reach the city for 3 days. Just 3 buildings remain from the original town with the rest entombed in an incredibly haunting memorial that is considered a work of art. The city's buildings completely collapsed, so cement conforming to the network of old streets was pored over the ruins. Essentially, the footprint of the city remains intact so that people can walk the old streets, but everything surrounding you is smoothed over with cement. A foreboding stroll.

Next, we stumbled upon the ruins of Poggioreale, which had also been destroyed by the earthquake. While many of the buildings remained standing, there was so much damage that the entire city was abandoned, leaving an eerie scene behind. The whole episode reminded me of a book released a few years ago called The World Without Us, in which the author describes how nature would reassert its dominance if humanity disappeared one day. Plants, small critters, plenty of bugs, and a pack of mysterious, ghostly white dogs are the earliest indications that the town will be overrun by the elements in the coming decades. On a positive note, the school remains standing without a hint of structural damage.



Mrs. Kohl, retired
After being treated to a number of in class celebrations, a handmade apple tort, jewelry, ceramics, multiple invitations to graduation parties, and some very thoughtful, generous notes from appreciative students and teachers, Meredith has hung up her proverbial set of Expo Markers and ended her illustrious 5 years in the classroom. She Taught For America, then for Italy, now she'll seek out a different calling.