Just over a week now in Catania and a new breed of culture shock has taken over and scored this week with strain. I  would be a liar if I didn’t say a whole new set of challenges has come up and hit me in the face. What would you like first? The rose coloured version of the positives or the tear stained reality of the negatives?

The first 3 days hiding in my cacoon of hotel luxury did not prepare me for the reality of this city in any way. First impressions of this city leave me cold and frightened. The family I “work” for may be of considerable  wealth and own the apartments we live in but this apartment block is in a grimey street and in a lowly part of the city, I’m guessing. My small excursions into the nearby streets looking for the supermarket left me bewildered and ansty as I passed huddles of young men smoking and skulking on corners and beggars in doorways, mumbling incoherently.

The buildings in the nearby streets including my street are blackened and crumbling. Remnants of volcanic rock seem to prop up or poke out of, most constructions. Balconies with soot stained, wrought iron railings, house overhanging foliage and over hanging washing in equal measure. Stone doorways and windows alike, are barred with iron grids or corrugated tin. The large paved footpaths may be wider than those in Florence but are filthy with rubbish and urine smelling, wet patches, lurk in some places against the walls. There are no quaint and inviting shops or cafes along the way to the nearest supermarket. Only faded advertising boards, torn flyers and satellite dishes, adorn walls and closed down shop fronts. The supermarket is on one side of a small square where some greenery and garden attempts to flourish. There are a few park benches and a kiosk selling drinks and coffee. Opposite the supermarket is a huge sex shop with big posters of seductive looking women all over the walls! The second time I went to this supermarket this week, I heard this strange yelling and wailing coming from the square as I  approached. There was this absolute mad man just wandering around in circles, shouting out to noone in particular. A beggar woman stared at me as I  went through the entrance to the supermarket and I felt so sorry for her but also a bit frightened.

Today I ventured a bit further. Using google maps I decided to head to what is supposed to be the upmarket shopping strip in the city, Via Etnea. I was not really in the mood for old churches and monuments! There was nowhere open to buy a bus ticket so I ended up taking one of the taxis parked at the bus station just down the road from me. The taxi driver’s name was Salvi. This is short for Salvatore, my fathers full name, and Salvi also means “save” in Italian. This was no irony lost on me today! Salvi dropped me at the back of the Rinascente department store, gave me his name and number on a slip of paper and told me to call him if I  wanted a ride back. I  had bargained him down from 10€ to 7€ for the trip, probably a bit expensive for a 4km ride but knowing having a wander along this street  would be more than enough for my legs, it was worth it.

I  walked through the department store, not unlike a Myers store, through to Via Etnea. I  expected to come out into a stylish and elgant street full of top end shops as I  was led to believe by my google research. Not so! There were smatterings of these upmarket stores along this road but they were nearly all closed. In between them, were an assortment of other large buildings (that had no signage as to what they were) or the occasional small cafe or restaurant. Many of these larger edifaces were covered in construction scaffolding. The overall atmosphere of this road was not much better than where I  lived!

I wandered up this road until I  came across a busy and large cafe opposite a large garden. It was the Bellini gardens (I also googled these) built as a hommage to one of the city’s patrons, the opera composer Vincenzo Bellini. The sun was out, there were many families out enjoying the day, so I too, decided to go into the gardens. First I bought an “arancini” and a “cannoli” to take with me. Both of these scrumptious goodies are typical Sicilian fare and my favourites. I made the climb up and through the gardens to the top, at a slow pace and was rewarded with a lovely breeze at the summit. When I explain my living quarters in a moment, you will understand the absolute joy I felt having the wind on my face! I  sat up there for over an hour, people watching and wildlife watching – well the little skink on the tree in front of me was very cute!

From the top of this garden you can see in the distance Mt Etna. It was a bit cloudy and hazy so it was not very clear but it’s presence could nonetheless be felt. It seemed to me and my active imagination that living so close to an active volcano must cast some shadow over this city and maybe that is why it is of no concern to keep things in a pristine condition… Truly, after the clean and organised city of Vienna, Catania was a veritable dump by comparison. Please be assured I am making no judgment  just observation. I mean, from the little reading I have done on this city,  it has been destroyed and rebuilt several times over the centuries by both earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, so maybe people don’t see the point of cleanliness or perfection…

I wandered back down Via Etnea in the opposite direction and stumbled across a fenced in excavation of an ancient ruin of a Roman baths. A fenced in Baroque church was also there above it. No fanfare or touristy signage, just an exposed hole in the ground – quite surreal and strange really. Less than 100mtrs away there is a McDonald’s  and another department store called “Coin”!

I  was in this store when the rain hit the city, in a thunderous applause and sent people scuttling into the doorways of the building. I waited along with everyone else to see if it would ease. A couple of street vendors took advantage of the situation and stood in the doorways trying to sell umbrellas. I  watched through the windows as the rain pelted down and people scurried past. I could see a homeless old woman huddled on the steps of the building across the road. She was pitifully trying to shelter herself with a flimsy wrap and she looked distraught. I suddenly realised this building was a church – the church of Archangel Michael. Why didn’t she just go inside I wondered… The rain showed no sign of letting  up so I  decided to ring Salvi to come and save me. In clumsy italian I asked if he remembered the woman he picked up earlier and could he come and collect me from in front of this store. He said I would have to wait until 6pm (45 mins away) and I said I couldn’t wait that long. Cursing these bloody Italians only doing things when they felt like it, (yes I realise the irony in this statement!)  I realised within about 10 mins, I  probably didn’t have many other choices!

So I  waited, and he came with his wife, introduced me to her and drove me back to the apartment. In the few minutes we had, he quizzed me on my purpose in Catania. Like everyone I have told about my purpose here to teach english to a family, as part of a volunteer program, it has been met with surprise and approval. Salvi said how much he would like to speak English but thought it was a difficult language to learn. This must be the general consensus in Sicily  as no-one here speaks English. But as Salvi proved, if you have a go at speaking with them in their language, they usually like it.

I guess so far you have only been reading about some of my more negative observations. There is more to even out the story of this week but yet again I have rambled on long enough for a blog so stay tuned for part 2 soon….