Three years ago I spent Easter in Palermo, Sicily. I was all by myself in a city where I had never been before, something that was both thrilling and scary. Good Friday it rained all day, and I wandered the streets with my camera tucked in under my rain coat, taking it out just long enough to snap some pictures once in a while.
What amazed be the most this day was the Good Friday parades. They were all over town (and in every single city and village all over Sicily), and the participants kept walking for hours and hours. Some were dressed as Roman soldiers, a little boy was Christ himself, and young men carried stretchers with life size sculptures of the dead Christ. These stretchers were so heavy that they had to be about 40 men to every stretcher. They were walking two and two holding around each other, to help support the weight. Funeral music was played by the marching bands, a slow, melancholic rhtytm, that made me think of the second Godfather movie.