December 9, 2015
When you get your university diploma in Italy, you are laureato (lau-ray-áh-toe), literally “crowned with laurel.” Some graduates still wear the bay leaf wreath, a tradition dating back to ancient Greece, when poets and scholars were so honored (thus “poet laureate” and Nobel Laureate”).
I found this laurel-bedecked graduate wandering the streets with his Botticelli maiden.
 When he saw my lens, he pulled her in for a smooch, Latin-lover style.
 Long live laurels. Long live love, lads and lasses. Evviva l’Italia.
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November 14, 2015
Sometimes the headlines make me wonder: Is there any hope for us?
Francesco and his mother dropped into my world by chance today to remind me that great big hearts outnumber the evil ones.
I went into their shop to ask if I could photograph their bright bananas and sacks of potatoes hanging on outdoor walls. Sure, says Francesco. And just like that he strolls out with a classical guitar and breaks into song–some old Sicilian ballad. And out comes his mother, seduced by the sound, yanking off her apron.
 She joins in with her beautiful soprano.
 I go on my way when the song ends. A block later I hear: SIGNORA!!!! It’s Francesco, gesturing me back. He gives me two slices of Sicilian cotognata, a sticky-fruity autumn candy, and his huge smile.
This pair sweetened my day, my life. A small kindness bestowed by chance–casualmente, as Italians say–can change the world.
Commit random acts of love. Right where you live.
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July 9, 2015
I noticed the sheet, then I spied her.
“Che bella linzuola, Signora!” What beautiful linen!
She took a deep puff of the cigarette and smiled. “It is I who have made it.” Her throat sounded sandy.
“Is that what you do? Make bed linens?”
“Una volta,” she said, with another smile. Once upon a time.
“Not anymore?” (I want one.)
She took another puff. “No, non piu, no more. This is the last one I have.”
And then she agreed to a portrait.
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June 15, 2015
I go to the convent early in the morning. (Ex-convent, actually.) I use the terrace as my office. Anna, shiny as the rising sun–arrives with my cappuccio. I squirm at being served because we’ve become kissing friends. Here are the things about her that I bet you cannot guess:
*She works 3 jobs.
*She has 5 kids.
Really!
Italians have one of the lowest birthrates on the planet. “And what surprises people more than my 5 kids,” says Anna, “is that all of them are with the same husband, and we’re still together!” Her oldest, a girl, is studying architecture in Venice.
People from Northern Italy claim that Sicilians don’t work hard. I have not found this to be true. Anna has two waitress jobs and teaches gymnastics to seniors. For fun she does amateur theater. How does she manage it all, looking gorgeous to boot? “I’ve taught my kids that a family must collaborate. Everyone must do what they can. The little one picks up her toys, and the bigger ones clean and take care of their clothes. I do most of the cooking, but my daughter Lucrezia makes wonderful pastas with sun-dried tomatoes, zucchini, and eggplant.”
Her customers tell her things like: You cheer us up and If there were a contest in Italy for the most beautiful barista smile, you’d surely win.
Anna’s dream, like that of many Sicilians, is to spend a bit of time in the US. She’d like to improve her school English by helping out in an Italian restaurant. Any ideas? Please let me know.
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June 6, 2015
I was happy to spot this beauty with the scarlet scarf. I had only ever seen them tied about men’s thick necks.
“So a woman can belong to San Giorgio’s Association?” This is the group that parades the saint around the village.
“I’m the secretary,” she says.
“So you’re allowed to carry the saint?”
“Oh, no,” she smiles, then shrugs, as if to say “not in my lifetime.”
 Her cameo shows San Giorgio slaying the dragon. And to continue my previous post showing festa-goers:
 What is it about a man in a beret??  He absolutely has what his T-shirt trumpets.  Love her pizzazz. She should have dressed him in a green tie.  Angelina still on the phone. Brad’s eye wandering.  Hmm. Let’s see. Who is San Giorgio and where is he to be found?  Papa, can’t you stop these damn explosions?  She dresses to match her balloons.  Almost as good as a beret. Alla prossima, amici.
jann
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All photos and text on BaroqueSicily are Copyright of Jann Huizenga ©2009-2015, unless otherwise noted. Material may not be copied or re-published without written permission. All rights reserved.
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When he saw my lens, he pulled her in for a smooch, Latin-lover style.
Long live laurels. Long live love, lads and lasses. Evviva l’Italia.
