Sicilians « baroquesicily.com - Sicily Stories and Travel Tips from Jann Huizenga

Flower Man, a Forever Friend

May 9, 2013

I hope to see him again. I have something to say.

He is an old friend, though I never learned his name.

He was stepping into his green door when I asked for a photo. “Of me???” he said. “Me?”

Suddenly he was foisting the freesias on me. “No! no!” I yelped, backing up, hands high.

But it’s impossible to refuse a Sicilian Random Act of Kindness.

I will tell him how he filled my heart that morning.

***

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Bread and Symbols in Sicily

March 19, 2013

Antonio wipes his floury face.

He dusts off his palms then smiles a shy-smile and hangs back.

The shopper next to me at the register, a tiny woman, blinks up with nut-brown eyes and explodes with words: “Yes, signora, you are right to take a photo of this bread! What he does is an art! And not many do it! How much longer…?”

Antonio unfurls his apron like a dusty flag and follows me out the bakery door into better light.

His opere d’arte–baroque breads, all curves and coils and curlicues–were created for today’s Feast of St. Joseph (Festa di San Giuseppe).

The breads are symbolic. Antonio makes crucifixes and fish, too, but those were sold out by the time I arrived. The one below is half crown of thorns, half crown of roses.

I forgot to ask what this other one means. It appears to be dancing the tarantella. Any ideas?

I will not eat these–not because of my pasta paunch, but because of their soul. They will glow on my sideboard until they fall to crumbs.

***

Saint Joseph is Sicily’s most important saint, and his feast day is the source of much hoopla in the nearby town of Santa Croce Camerina.

***

Sitting at the Bus Stop, Waiting for the Rain

March 8, 2013

Umbrella days.

A Sicilian face peering out from under a coppola.

A river of cars streaming past his eyes.

Angelus bells clanging.

But he sits calmly waiting for the bus.

Until the americana approaches.

“I have a cousin in Florida!” he says. “My name is Emanuele.”

His skin is cracked as a Sicilian riverbed in summer.

“Give my greetings to America.”

“OK!” I say, because I can think of nothing better. “Buona serata!”

***

People I Met Today

February 26, 2013

ITALY’S general elections are over, there’s a hung parliament, a comedian holds the cards, the eurozone is having conniptions, the markets are falling, confusion reigns.

But life goes on in Sicily. People were out and about today, looking unfazed.

Here is Angelo, who lives a block or two and a few flights of stairs below me, in front of his lovely red doors.

Carmelo was chasing down his dog, Attila. When he finally nabbed him, I asked if they’d pose. (Attila was way more eager than his human.)

These women didn’t seem to mind my camera or that I interrupted their gabfest, but, boo, I forgot to ask their names.

Angelo #2. He spotted me in his alleyway and asked what was I doing walking all alone (!) on a chilly day (mid-50s)? I said I had a job to do, that I loved his smile, and would he mind ?