“There are only two types of people in the world, those who are Sicilian and those who wish to be.” So says John, the marvelous Sicilian Canadian whom we met as we meandered through the streets of Messina this morning.
We gathered in Philly, we five, we band of sisters. It began with one sister and as the day progressed she was joined by another and another and another and another until we were all together in one place. Then, it was on to the plane – 8 hours to Frankfurt then on to Catania. Five sisters in a row.
An overcast sky met us in Catania and as we landed, Marjorie looked at me, “Here we are in the land of our grandfather.” Gulp.
Yes, here we are. Driving the two hours from Catania to Messina over winding roads on a dark night in a heavy rain, was an experience. Thank God for GPS! We arrived in the dark at our VRBO on a crowded street not far from the Mediterranean. As we piled out of the car looking for our casa, a lovely Signora stepped out of a door and called to us. Guiseppe’s granddaughters had arrived.
Our first foray was to find some food late this morning. We found a small bakery where we purchased a few rolls and explained to the older Italian woman that we were looking for our grandfather’s birthplace. Walking from the shop we heard a voice calling us. It was a young man sent from the shop to bring us more rolls — after all, we are daughters of Sicily and we must be cared for.
At the mercato we ran into John and Debra, oft visitors to Sicily. John speaks Italian, even Sicilian Italian (!) and has family on the island. And before we knew it we were sitting outside at a lovely cafe eating lunch with our new friends, the Mediterranean shining under the sun and mainland Italy (the tip of the toe) across the water. Archini, foccacia, insalata with prosciutto and mozzarella decorated our table and laughter and conversation flowed freely. Can we really be here for one day and feel so comfortable?
Tonight we will sit around our table in the mountains of Sicily, drinking strong coffee, eating our fresh rolls and sharing our lives. Guiseppe didn’t know over 100 years ago as he boarded the ship for America, just a small boy of 10, that his granddaughters would talk of him and remember him and travel to find his village. We are here, grandfather! We are here!
Beautiful Words 