Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

C is for Cyclops, S is for Sicily

by Sheron Long on November 21, 2013

Cyclops' face on a boat in Aci Trezza, Sicily, recalls the country's Greek cultural heritage.  Image © Robert Long.

Cyclops on board! Sicily’s Greek heritage stares you in the face from a boat in Aci Trezza.
© Robert Long

Stories Speak of Cultural Heritage

Under the watchful eye of my high school English teacher, I learned about the 10-year voyage of Odysseus (aka Ulysses) and his encounter with the cyclops, never imagining that I would one day see evidence of their fight.

Yet, here I am on the Cyclops Riviera where the encounter occurred. Before my eyes, stories—old and new—engage me in the cultural heritage of Sicily.

A Story of Old: Odysseus Meets the Cyclops

In the Odyssey, the great epic poem often attributed to the blind poet Homer, Odysseus sails home after his clever idea for the Trojan Horse won Greece a victory over Troy.

Along the way, Odysseus stops at an island where one-eyed giants known as cyclops tend their sheep. He and his crew, laden with gifts of wine, find the cave of the cyclops Polyphemus. They make themselves at home, lighting a fire inside the cave and stealing the cyclops’ cheese and lamb. Not a good idea.

Sheep grazing in Sicily, part of the island's cultural heritage

Sicilian sheep still graze in the shadow of
Mount Etna, an active volcano.
© iStock/Domenico Pellegriti

When Polyphemus returns with his sheep, he isn’t too hospitable. He traps the Greeks inside the cave and proceeds to have a couple of ’em for dinner.

He has two more Greeks the next day for breakfast, and Odysseus has an “Oh, I see” moment. He better do something fast!

So, when Polyphemus leaves for the day with his flock, Odysseus fashions a spear from an olive branch. That night, he sees to it that Polyphemus overindulges in the sweet wine and falls into a drunken state. That’s when Odysseus hardens the point of his spear in the fire, rams it into the cyclops’ one big eye, and blinds him.

Though injured and blind, Polyphemus does what a shepherd has to do. In the morning, he takes his sheep out to graze, feeling their fleece as each exits the cave, and blocking the opening with a boulder to keep the Greeks inside.

Only problem is that the cyclops has an “Oh, I don’t see” moment—the Greeks have tied themselves to the undersides of the sheep, and they escape.

As the Greeks set sail, Odysseus taunts the cyclops. In a fit of rage, Polyphemus tears rocks from the mountainside and hurls them into the sea, hoping to sink their ship. The Greeks get away, but the rocks are still there today.

Rocks off the eastern coast of Sicily, part of Greek mythology from Homer's Odyssey and thrown by the cyclops to stop Odysseus, figure in the cultural heritage of Sicily. Image © Sheron Long.

In Greek mythology, the rocks, now known as I Faraglioni off the eastern coast of Sicily,
were thrown into the sea by the cyclops trying to stop the escape of Odysseus and his crew.
© Sheron Long

Is it only a story? Who knows, but it’s been around in oral form since the 12th Century BCE. It’s part of Sicily’s cultural heritage that includes not only the Greeks but (among others) the Phoenicians, Romans, Arabs, Normans, Spanish, and finally the Italians once Garibaldi unified Italy in 1861.

Due to its geographic position, Sicily has built up layers of history from different cultures, and the evidence is everywhere. For the  Sicilians, settling on an identity is not always easy. I ask one woman if she identifies now with Italy. The answer? “Only once every four years when Italy plays in the World Cup.”

A Story of New: Boy Meets Girl

Every day that goes by, new layers of history are added, both cultural and personal. Today I get to look into the past and the future. Gazing seaward, I see rocks supposedly thrown by the cyclops about 3000 years ago; looking into the plaza, I see future stories, steeped in Sicilian culture, unfolding.

A couple just married pauses there to document this historic day in their personal story. They begin a new chapter in their lives, drawing on their more contemporary cultural heritage.

Couple posing for a wedding picture in a Sicilian plaza and following traditions that are part of the Sicilian cultural heritage. Image © Sheron Long.

A picture-perfect wedding picture in a centuries-old Sicilian plaza
© Sheron Long

Couple standing in a Sicilian plaza after a wedding that reflected their cultural heritage. Image © Sheron Long.

A couple stands where other couples have stood across centuries
to celebrate an important chapter in their personal stories.
© Sheron Long

Bride walking without shoes, following a ceremony that reflected the cultural heritage of her life in Sicily. Image © Sheron Long.

Walking into the future—what stories will the bride and groom write together?
© Sheron Long

Like Odysseus, they are about to set sail, hopefully for more than the ten years that comprised his voyage and surely full of “Oh, I see” and “Oh, I don’t see” moments—the kind of moments that always make for a good story. Buon viaggio!

Newly-married couple pose by a traditional Sicilian boat reflective of the island's cultural heritage. Image © Sheron Long

May the voyage be long and happy filled with Sicilian traditions, like this boat!
© Sheron Long

The Italian government tourism office offers travel videos and information on Sicily. For maps of Sicily showing its vulnerable geographic position, visit World Atlas.

Visit the Ancient History Encyclopedia  for more on the Greek rule of Sicily (8th–3rd Century BCE). 

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

The Harmony of Hope: Tsunami Violins

by Janine Boylan on November 18, 2013

Tsunami violins illustrate cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Design by Muneyuki Nakazawa)

Muneyuki Nakazawa’s tsunami violins,
each with a solitary pine tree painted on its back.
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

Healing with Cross-Cultural Contributions

If music is healing, then it follows that violins can also bring healing.

Master luthier Muneyuki Nakazawa has constructed two violins with the goal of bringing harmony and healing to a devastated Japanese community.

Moving from Disaster

After the 8.9 magnitude earthquake and subsequent tsunami in March of 2011, Nakazawa felt that he needed to do something for his community.

He visited the ruined shores of the city of Rikuzentakata, Japan, strewn with broken trees that had been ripped from the ground.

Nakazawa (right), with piles of wood for tsunami violins, illustrating the cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation)

Nakazawa (right) at Rikuzentakata, with piles of wood broken by the tsunami.
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

He couldn’t help but notice that a single miracle pine stood in the spot on the beach where nearly 70,000 pine trees had been rooted before the disaster.

Solitary pine tree, symbol for tsunami violins, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image by Takata Matsubara)

solitary pine tree
Image by Takata Matsubara

He had his “Oh, I see” moment: he would build violins from the splintered wood. Nakazawa worked with several local experts to choose and collect wood from the piles of rubble. Then he took the wood back to his shop where, over the next several months, he crafted the pieces into violins.

On the back of each, he painted the miracle pine, as a symbol of hope and continued life.

Muneyuki Nakazawa making tsunami violin, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation)

Muneyuki Nakazawa carves a tsunami violin.
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

Continuing the Plan

But Nakazawa’s idea didn’t stop there.

Inspired by the Japanese tradition of folding 1,000 paper cranes to fulfill a wish, Nakazawa’s dream was to have the violins played by 1,000 people around the world. Taizo Oba worked with him to launch the project, named “The Bond Made of 1,000 Tones.”

In an interview with Yoree Koh of Wall Street Journal’s blog Japan Real Time, Nakazawa explains,

This isn’t a violin meant to play big concertos in a large concert hall. That should be left to other violins. I wanted to make a tender sounding violin that consoles people. This is a violin for the people in the disaster zones, for people who have grieved over lost loved ones and for the souls of those who died from this tragedy.

The project encourages anyone who wishes to play one of the instruments, young or old, experienced or amateur, to apply.

The Tour

Exactly one year after the devastating storm, on March 11, 2012, Israeli violinist Ivry Gitlis debuted the first violin at a benefit concert in Rikuzentakata. An audience member recorded the moment.

If the video does not display, watch it here.

Gitlis put the music he played in the violin case and handed it along to the next artist. Each person who plays is encouraged to add to the notes in the case.

Kimiko Nakazawa with tsunami violin, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation)

Kimiko Nakazawa
Image courtesy of Classic for Japan Foundation

Since then, the two violins have been featured around the world in the hands of artists from many cultures who support the effort of healing the community.

  • Nakazawa’s wife, renowned violinist Kimiko Nakazawa has performed with the violin.
  • Cairo-born violinist Atef Halim, who is French and plays regularly in Japan, has played tsunami violins in April and October of 2013. You can hear him playing a tsunami violin in a video posted October 27 on his Facebook page.
  • The Crown Prince Naruhito of Japan played a tsunami violin in Tokyo on July 7, 2013.
  • Kevin Chen of the World Civic Orchestra played one in New York City on June 9, 2013.
  • Juilliard graduate Erika Mitsui played a tsunami violin at the Japan Society in New York City on March 11, 2013. She was the 119th violinist to play the instrument.
  • The first duets of the violins were performed by Adrian Justus and his teacher, Mexico-based Japanese violinist Yuriko Kuronuma in January 2013.
  • French violinist Gérard Poulet played the violin in Tokyo in August 2012.
Gérard Poulet plays a tsunami violin, illustrating cross-cultural contributions on the path to healing (Image by Minoru Watanabe)

Gérard Poulet
Image by Minoru Watanabe

Moving into The Future

At the end of October, the violins were played inside the world’s first inflatable concert hall, a purple balloon-like structure called Ark Nova, in the hard-struck city of Matsushima, Japan. This partnership of violins and concert hall can travel to many of the other areas struck by the 2011 storm and help give the people a respite from the rebuilding that is still happening around them.

Nakazawa shared with The Japan Times,“The rebirth of (driftwood into) the two small violins can continue conveying what happened on March 11 beyond this generation.” He imagines that it will take years to fulfill his dream of 1,000 tones.

Violins built of broken wood, played by cross-cultural artists around the globe, are bringing a harmony of hope that is sure to continue for decades.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Aha Moment Maker: Inspired by a Wooly Gift

by Your friends at OIC on November 16, 2013

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TEMUCO, CHILE, 1913—A young Pablo Neruda was playing in his backyard when a small boy’s hand suddenly poked through a hole in the wooden fence and deposited a well-worn toy sheep. Neruda was instantly moved, and reciprocated the gesture with his treasured pine cone. He never saw the boy, or even the boy’s hand again, but cherished the toy lamb until it was lost in a fire.

When the famous Chilean poet and activist later recounted the incident in numerous interviews, he credited the mysterious exchange with inspiring his world view of unity and connectedness, and also stated that it was responsible for “giving my poetry light.”

Inspired by his gifts to the world, fans of Neruda have turned the fence at his adult home in Isla Negra, Chile, into a message board and memorial. Every July 12, on his birth date, people tack personal messages to Neruda on the fence and scrawl words of love and prayer onto the boards, simply as a way of saying “thanks.”

What’s the aha moment you see?

 

Image © iStockphoto

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