No Global 
Syracuse. Lunch. It 's the day of the eight
Gi environment. That environment here in two steps, man has transformed the petrochemical, and still turn sells the Val di Noto to the oil barons and their drills. The summit
is armored in the beautiful Ortigia, and the rest of the city seems deserted. Closed shops. As a precaution. I can not even take the usual coffee bar: No closed for Global. I meet two young people, say it is the first time they visit to Syracuse. I'm here for the parade. Wonder if they saw Ortigia. I say no. If you enter a store - the few remaining open - people will look bad because they think they can break some window. The atmosphere of terror in the streets silent and abandoned only echoes the noise of the helicopter above the sky above me. Cops on every corner of the city. I approach the procession of the No Global. Who to fear? I see a procession of young people, accompanied by police and TV. There must have been about two thousand, maybe I'm wrong. It seems a day of national strike, such as when a school is doing the parade, when there was still the desire to believe in something again. My friend meets his son Nuccio, greets him. Hugs and greets many other comrades. Like him. Complains. "I still flatter myself (he says sarcastically) that we can change something," says watching those guys. Police, TV, much confusion and many false prejudices. Still, in the car, a policeman warned me: "The car can not stay here! There is a risk that burn it to him, as happened in Genoa! Then if something happens, we have advised us !"...
Syracuse. Lunch. It 's the day of the eight Gi environment. That environment here in two steps, man has transformed the petrochemical, and still turn sells the Val di Noto to the oil barons and their drills. The summit is armored in the beautiful Ortigia, and the rest of the city seems deserted. Closed shops. As a precaution. I can not even take the usual coffee bar: No closed for Global. I meet two young people, say it is the first time they visit to Syracuse. I'm here for the parade. Wonder if they saw Ortigia. I say no. If you enter a store - the few remaining open - people will look bad because they think they can break some window. The atmosphere of terror in the streets silent and abandoned only echoes the noise of the helicopter above the sky above me. Cops on every corner of the city. I approach the procession of the No Global. Who to fear? I see a procession of young people, accompanied by police and TV. There must have been about two thousand, maybe I'm wrong. It seems a day of national strike, such as when a school is doing the parade, when there was still the desire to believe in something again. My friend meets his son Nuccio, greets him. Hugs and greets many other comrades. Like him. Complains. "I still flatter myself (he says sarcastically) that we can change something," says watching those guys. Police, TV, much confusion and many false prejudices. Still, in the car, a policeman warned me: "The car can not stay here! There is a risk that burn it to him, as happened in Genoa! Then if something happens, we have advised us !"... 
