Photo Essay

Holy Week

It has been a while since,moving around countries to follow job opportunities,i lost the chance to live in the city in which i was born.It's hard to explain but what i'm experiencing is a loss of contact with all the things that have been surrounding me while i was growing up.I just keep a record of all these sounds,smells,colors in my mind and when it happens i can come back home for some time,i always feel emotionally involved especially in the exact moment in which all those remembrances turn back to be something real.

Easter time in Sicily is an event of that kind and the Holy Week in Enna is to be considered one of the most striking expressions related to ancient traditions that have been handed down for centuries.The way they are connected to the story of the inhabitants from a social,historical,religious and even political point of view makes these rites so special.It's not just entertainment or folklore.Looking at the faces of brethren suffering while carrying on simulacra or even finding someone who rejoice in doing the same;standing for long moments in a noisy silence looking at more than 2000 hooded members of the confraternities,marching in complete seriousness and sadness from and back to the cathedral through nearly all the streets of Enna following the same march rhythm in a never ending funeral procession;listening to the heart-rending music of the city band proceeding behind them; traveling over the devotion of so many people staring at the dead Christ and the painful Mary just behind him;what at a first glance could sound like a bit worrisome,suddenly turns into magic leaving you an unforgettable emotion.

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