A Perfect Day in Sicily

Another day has passed and it was most beautiful and relaxing. My day actually started in the afternoon about 1 p.m. when I finally got out of bed. "Wow," you might think, "Did she party all night?" The answer is "no." I went to sleep at about 11 p.m. my time and then did that jet lag thing again and woke up in the wee hours of the morning; wide awake.

By the time I fell back to sleep and really got shuteye, I woke up at 10:15 a.m. told myself I am fasting today with my Muslim friends on the first day of Ramadan and then fell back to sleep until 1. Now, it was not necessarily my plan, but since I was not eating or drinking anything, I figured that I would really just concentrate on getting good rest - and that I did.

Since it was Saturday and I usually take it easy on this day, I thought I would just lounge around in my room praying and meditating on God and the good things that this world still has to offer. When one is fasting, I guess a key thing I learned is perhaps not to put yourself in harms way for food. Well, I remembered on my shelf in the closet I had some fresh pears and peaches I brought from a little old Siliciano man at the mercato yesterday afternoon - but I immediately put that out of my mind and just went about my business. After I brushed my teeth for an extra long time - toothepaste and mouthwash never tasted so good, I thought that perhaps since it is a day of reflection, sacrifice and relaxation, I would treat myself to one of those very, very long showers with warm water splashing all over my body at a high speed while I luxuriate lathering myself in bubbles galore. It was so great to just do this. I closed my eyes, inhaled the hot steam and really let go and forgot nearly everything that might cause me some stress for a moment. I just allowed myself to be in the moment to feel the water pelting my body like thousands of little massagers.

When you live in the moment and allow all of your senses to take full effect, it has a transformative feeling. The lesson one learns is all you can do in life is be in that moment; whatever it is and experience it and then let it go.

After I got dressed, I went downstairs to do my usual chat up with the front desk. Two of the three men manning the desk are really cute; so the chatting with them is not hard at all. I asked them to please speak just a little piano, piano (more slowly), so I can practice my Italian and not have to rely on going back to English (which is an easy crutch). I notice Siciliani people when they speak tend to do a slight mumble or lazy speak - now I don't mean this in any pejorative way, but as they speak and sing song, it is a bit of a mumble; so I found myself saying "come?" or "cosa?" a few times or more. It is true the Siciliano dialect is a language unto itself, but everyone here speaks Italian.


By the time, I started out the door for another one of those marathon walks on piedi (foot) with heels, I made a final decision that I would go to Catania this Thursday. I asked about four Sicilianis about their thoughts on Catania and all said it is the same as Palermo, but very beautiful.

So, folks, I am headed to Catania by pullman (bus) and can't wait for this. Anyway, today was a busy day with people selling all sorts of things on the cobblestoned side streets. The sellars are Asian Indian mostly speaking fluent Italian. Now, it is somewhat of a comedy for me to hear an Asian Indian speaking Italian with their own country accents. If you can imagine this for a moment you might smile and that I did. I was not used to it.

There are many cultures here from all over the world; just like any metropolis in the West, people from different parts of the world have made Sicily their home, except instead of hearing different languages, you hear only Italian. Different from New York City in which every block you walk you hear a different language and not much English.

I walked past a group of old men doing the numbers - yes, doing the numbers - some betting was going on and Il Capo ("the boss") was taking down the numbers and the old heads had to anti up the soldi (money). Now, you know what was going through my head - the theme song from the Godfather and all of that Mafia stuff. I admit it. I cracked myself up.

On this mafia thing, I have a few comments about it. Sicily is known throughout the world about its Mafia history, past and present. The government and the police have recently done some serious crackdowns to try and put a dent into La Cosa Nostra. They are still around here though.

But, while many Italians in America get upset when people connect the Mafia to being Italian (which is not fair because it is a viscious stereotype), here in Sicily they do play it up a bit with the memorabilia. Walking down the alley way to look at all of the goods being offered on the table, what I do hear? The song from the Godfather blasting down the entire street.Do you remember when Anthony Corleone son of Michael Corleone (played by Al Pacino) sings and plays bringing back memories to Michael in Sicily being married to Apolonia (his true love)? The song also curses him for all of his sins he has had to commit in the name of being the Godfather. The Godfather breaks down and weeps in a moment of anguish. In case you forgot the beauty of that song, here it is. http://www.boxxet.com/The_Godfather/video:godfather-sicilian-song/

There are also hats of The Godfather and other movie souvenir for Il Padrino; so it is somewhat of a marketing tool, but store and restaurant owners know all to well how unmarketable it really is when one of these guys show up on your door step or a La Bomba explodes.


When I recall the story the driver tried to tell me yesterday and I did not completly get, I replayed it in my mind and then did some searching and discovered that it has been about 17 years since Sicily's most distinguished anti-Mafia crusader Giovanni Falcone was murdered when his car and escort were blown up by a bomb planted beneath the road leading to Palermo's airport - right by those mountains I mentioned yesterday. It is a part of their history story has to be told to any new visitor coming to Sicily. Oh well.

I got ripped off when I purchased a little souvenir bag. Something I should have paid 3-4 Euros for, I paid 10. He of course tried to charge me 15, but I thought was being cute getting him down to 10, but that was not even good. Later I purchased two more purses - full leather (Italians don't fake on the leather and don't believe in pleather) for 8 Euros and it is very cute and beautiful and later I purchased a bamboo/chocolate bag for less.

The retailer for the third bag brought me in the back of his store and told me, "Shhhhhh, I will charge you what you want to pay me, but don't tell anyone." I said, "Okay, and then whispered 3 Euros." He replied, "No 6 Euros Signorina." I said, "You said I could pay anything," and then we settled on 4 Euros. He then grabbed my arm and declared, "If you need anything you come to me and I will get it for you, anything." Just then I knew what this was going to be about and I replied, "Okay, thanks for your kind offer, but I will be fine." He replied, "I will get you anything you want and need." A slow creepy feeling came over me and I looked down at his brown cruddy teeth. Since I was taller than him I could look down on him literally. I also felt if necessary I could also whup his butt too, so I just replied again more firmly, "Thanks, but no thanks." This is all in Italian by the way. The guy was not Italian, so imagine he and I speaking in the back of the store in whispers. "You are so beautiful," said the man. "I just have to help you if you want it." At this point, I am quite sure of the help he wanted to give me, but I am not in the taking.

I don't get scared of these types of things. They are amusing because these fools are serious. I mean if a guy is going to rap to a lady, he should at least brush his teeth and for that matter have most of his teeth. I guess when he showed me a photo of himself when he was in England when he was younger, it must have been about 15 years ago.He wanted me to know that perhaps if I close my eyes, I will imagine him at that time and perhaps need him for something? I am not sure, but I got out of there with another little cute bag. It was time to begin to find a restaurant to break my fast.

Something happens when you are getting towards the end of the day and you know you will be eating soon; suddenly your body begins to scream - I AM HUNGRY, I AM THIRSTY, FEED ME, FEED ME. Like a baby having a fit if it doesn't get to the breast of its mother soon, my body was yelling and groaning inside, my mind begins to play tricks on me and it seems that I can't find a restaurant in downtown Palermo. Really crazy huh? But it was like that for a moment. I asked about a half dozen shop owners - Dove e il ristortante per la cena mangiare? (Where is a restaurant to eat dinner?). All of the directions were about the same, but I could not come to one place.

I started getting frustrated. As I was walking and mumbling to myself in English, I felt someone staring at me. Have you ever had that feeling when you know someone is casing you? I have had this experience many times in my life from my travels; so I am acutely aware. I looked directly to my right and there he was - a dude with peppered colored hair that looked like he had put his index finger in a light socket. He was in a station wagon looking at me. I looked back straight ahead immediately and then I was getting a bit more irritated because it was time to eat! I walked three more blocks per the advice of a final shopkeeper and guess who was driving along the side of the road on Via Roma (Rome Street), you figured it out - Station wagon dude. So, to throw him off, I decided to dart into a store for about 1 minute and then go out again to meet my most important need food and drink. At the corner he was there and then I asked some people to take a photo or two of me he finally disappeared.

Again, not surprised or tormented by it, he just looked like a guy who watched a lot of porn or something. Just had that crazy look about him - harmless I am sure, but perhaps he thought he was going to make his own movie. I don't know,but a dude attempting to holla at a girl in a station wagon? It is also like a guy trying to talk smack in a Yugo. No can do. I had to laugh though to myself because he thought he was being smooth, but in the U.S. we call that stalking!

I finally found the restaurant and it was one of the most historic restaruants in Sicily. Called Casa Del Bordo Dal Dottore, its history is lovely. The owner of this restaurant years long ago made a broth that people of Sicily claim healed people of their sickness and sadness during Sicily's most troubling and darkest financial periods in time. The owner/cook fed hundreds and hundreds of the nearly starving Sicilians charging them nothing. Affectionately called the Doctor's Place becaused the magical broth was rumored to heal. Here is the site. Check it out. Just quaint and so Italy http://www.casadelbrodo.it/

What a irony to end up at this restaurant to break my fast. These little miracles are great blessings and there is no such thing as a coincidence by the way. I was the first guest at the restaurant this evening, and the only guest for about one hour, but by the time I left (after having a great Siciliano dinner with dolce), the place was completely full.

The walk home was slow and lovely; just the sound of mopeds, little gas saver cars beeping and laughs from groups of young men huddle around a street vendor getting something to eat. Sicily, thank you for welcoming me to your home and introducing me to Palermo; so far he is a good host. Bacione (Big Kiss) to ALL!