TEN YEARS IN SICILY

Today is the festa della Repubblica in Italy and the tenth anniversary of my arrival here to settle so I am re-posting the account of that day that I published on this blog in 2006. I have added some reflections at the end:

Friday, June 02, 2006

L'ANNIVERSARIO DELL'ARRIVO!

Diary extract from 3.6.05
Modica, Sicily, Italy - at last!

Events of Thursday, 2.6.05:
Couldn’t bring myself to have a last ( for some time) cooked breakfast as I was feeling all churned up. Stuck with the fruit and toast (outrageously priced, by the way).

Got the 10 am courtesy bus as planned, and Martha [my friend and neighbour, who had surprised me a few days before by announcing she was coming to Gatwick to see me off, making her own way there] was waiting for me just inside the terminal.

I had posted a few things – non-urgent documents plus the books and little things I’d bought in London – to myself c/o Linda, so I did manage to get most things in the case and therefore didn’t have to check in my in-flight bag. They marked the case “heavy” but I didn’t have to pay any excess as the flight was not full. I asked about Simi at check-in and they said I should enquire at the gate. I had phoned Airpets earlier and she had been sent to the airport and was OK according to them. [Incidentally I think it’s terrible that you can’t have your pet with you in-flight, even in the carrier ; I wouldn't mind paying for two seats! After all, no one puts babies in the cargo area! But vets would say that it is less stressful for the animal to be in that darkened section of the plane; just more stressful for the owner!]

Then Martha and I went off and had (very early!) gin and tonic and crisps in the pub there. It was so good of her to come. The flight was boarding at 12.35 so I went through at 12. Martha told me not to look back so I didn’t.

Got a bottle of water for Simi as I thought I mightn’t be able to leave the taxi driver to get one at Catania and, anyway, might have to go upstairs for it which would have taken ages.

The gate number came up a bit late and when I got there I immediately asked about Simi. The gate staff told me to sit near them and they would check. But I had to wait till all the other passengers had checked in at the gate! The gate staff can’t see that you are anxious about your pet! Eventually a ground crew man came along and I asked him if he could help me. He knew all about Simi and said he had just given her water. He took me to the window to see her crate being loaded. Oh, my darling! Such a little crate it looked from up there, carrying all that I hold dear in it! I nearly cried. Simi’s mummy was still not satisfied, however, so I sat back by the gate ladies and asked them to double-check that she had been loaded safely. Then the co-pilot came along and he said she was a bit nervous – my poor love! – but had water and would be fine. A kind Scottish woman was waiting to board and she said she empathised as she had once flown a Westie from Scotland to London; not so far, but she knew how I felt!

Once on the plane, I spoke to the captain, who was standing at the front talking to the co-pilot and another male crew member. They were very kind and said Simi would be just under where we were standing. I felt better, knowing exactly where she was. (If you are reading this and are not a “pet person” – or maybe you have never lived alone with an animal – you probably think I am mad; but to me Simi is like my child, you see.) But every time there was turbulence, I thought, “Oh! My sweetie!” and tried to tell her telepathically that her mummy was near.

After a passable meal for an airline – a bit of pork escalope, I think it was – I was so tired that I slept most of the rest of the way. As we came into Catania, I did not see Etna this time, but felt the familiar surge of emotion as we touched down on the soil of this most beloved land.

I spoke to the captain again as I got off and he assured me that Simi was being unloaded. (Another of my fears was that they would forget and take her on to Malta!) I bet they were glad to see the back of this anxious woman who only cared about her dog!

For once the luggage came out quite quickly and also, for once, mine was not the last case to appear!

Then the taxi man was there with a card with my name on it; he looked relieved that I spoke Italian and he knew about the dog. He said he would take me to the Scalo Merci [where I had been told to collect Simi] in the car as it was a fair way from the terminal – and thank goodness he did as it would have been at least a 30-minute walk – and there a woman took my details and subsequently took ages to enter everything into a computer. I was getting worried and started to pray silently; the driver sensed it and asked if there was a problem. “Oh, no”, said the woman, “it’s just that I have to calculate the charge.” (I had been told that there would probably be a local charge.) I explained to her that this dog really was my family and she smiled and speeded up a little. I was thinking, “This is going to cost hundreds” – and I wouldn’t have cared if it had – when suddenly she finished and announced, “Two euros twenty”!! So that was the local tax to bring my precious Simi into Sicily!

Finally they brought Simi out, in her crate on the back of a truck, and she looked so worried! Her fur always turns just the slightest shade darker when she is unwell or stressed – probably only I would notice it. But as soon as she saw me and smelt my finger through the cage she wagged her tail and was normal. I asked the driver if I could have her in my arms in the back and he said that was fine; then I had the cage open, Simi was in my arms and I was kissing her and telling her, “Sono la mamma, Simi. Siamo in Italia. Siamo in Sicilia.” The driver laughed and asked if she spoke Italian so I said of course! Then I put her on the lead and she was raring to go again! I had the water for her but she didn’t want it. She just sat in my arms, occasionally sleeping and occasionally looking out of the window. Cara Simi!

The taxi man was so nice and kind and we chatted. He was from Siracusa and had visited London several times. He offered to stop for Simi but she was OK and we pressed on. I spoke to Linda on the mobile and she said she would come and meet us once we were over the second bridge. (There are two bridges to lead you into Modica, one of which is among the highest in Europe.) So I called her again then and we stopped outside Bar Fuscia to wait for her. I got out with Simi to let her stretch her legs and much interest she caused among the local dogs! Then Linda and Franco arrived and we followed their car in the taxi.

At Linda's I gave the driver a good tip and she gave him a drink. Then he was on his way, happy with his evening’s work and his tip. Franco took a delighted Simi for a run round the garden on her lead. We all sat outside for a g and t and Linda presented me with a lovely basket full of food, coffee, tea, mineral water – and a bottle of gin and one of tonic! There was also a home-made photo collage of Modica with benvenuta written on it - I am going to frame it – and a bunch of beautiful roses from their garden. After about 30 minutes, Marco, Giovanna and children arrived and we all travelled in procession to the casetta.

Marco and Giovanna had also brought food so I am well supplied. I have:

Linda's Modican pizza
Oregano
Sun-dried tomatoes
Lettuce
Fresh tomatoes
Eggs
Fruit from the various gardens
Oil, vinegar, salt
Sugar
Coffee and tea
Mineral water
Biscuits
Pasta
Tomato sauce
Bread
Cheese
Butter
Franco's home-dried figs
Capers
Almond milk

So much kindness!

Simi was a bit nervous when we got here; I think she thought I was going to hand her over to these [to her] strangers! But once they had gone and we were together she relaxed.

The casetta is of stone and is in the old town. It’s a bit cave-like downstairs. It has a shower downstairs, a rather rickety but functioning fridge, a sink in the kitchen area and one in the tiny bathroom, a table and two benches, an old easy chair and a very small unit with a marble top. Upstairs is lighter with the bed and a wardrobe, plus a shelf that I am using now for the laptop and some others that I am using for cosmetics. The stone, twisty stairs are banister-less and so a bit treacherous but Simi soon got used to them! And the house is blessedly cool. Oh! I forgot to say that there’s a gas burner powered by a bombola of gas: I am afraid of it but Linda says it’s a rite of passage, for everyone starts off with one of these here! I’ll have a go at cooking on it tomorrow.

After everyone had gone, Simi and I went to bed and slept well, despite the noise of the mad motorini till at least midnight!

Epilogue:

Simi and I spent five weeks together in the casetta [little house, which belonged to my friends Marco and Giovanna] in the old town and she was my stability then as she was in the ensuing years. I never did get to grips with the gas bombola [cylinder] and was so scared of it that I gave up after about a week and ate out or existed on cold food, which is no hardship in Italy. Then we moved to the apartment where I still live.

About three months after our arrival, I received in the post a receipt for the €2,20 tax I had had to pay at the airport to bring Simi into Sicily. On it she is described as "goods":

Reflections in 2015

In ten years in Sicily, I have known much joy, great kindness, some cruelty, serious illness and several crushing blows, the hardest of which was the loss of Simi on January 8th this year. On the morning of her death, I found it very difficult to be driven to Linda's house again, clutching her little body. This was because Linda and Franco wanted to join us for the burial. I kept remembering arriving there that evening, ready for adventure, when Simi was still a young dog and I was a much younger and more naive woman.

The Italy I live in now is not the Italy I fell in love with as a student back in 1969, nor is the Sicily of today the Sicily that so enchanted me on my first visit in 1992. The economic crisis has taken its toll, here as elsewhere, leaving a trail of heartbreak and turning reasonable people into unreasonable beings. I would say that, for an expat woman of a certain age who is unprotected by family, money or perhaps by working for an international company, it can be a harsh environment - and I write this as an Italian graduate and as someone who has studied and loved Italian culture all her life. But would I go back? If Italy is not the Italy I once knew, Britain is not the country I left. There is still much to enjoy about living in Italy and I have a feeling that long after me, the crisis and the EU, when Italy's remaining ancient buildings have all but crumbled around the populace - but they won't, you know, for they will save them just in time - Italians will still be showing the rest of the world how to eat, how to create beauty and how to live.

Simi's pet passport photo - my favourite picture of her.

WHAT IN SICILY? - 31

The use of this object, spotted in an interior decorator's window, would not have been confined to Sicily but what is it and who would have worn it?  Your guesses in the comments please and I'll tell you the answer tomorrow.

Update -  Answer:


As the two commenters guessed, it is a Carnival version of a medieval plague doctor's mask.  These masks were filled with aromatics which, along with the design of the mask, were believed to protect the doctors - who were often unqualified or at the very least, inexperienced - from the plague.  


It would be fun if the etymology of the term "quack" for "fraudulent doctor" were linked to the beak-like mask but alas, it comes from a Dutch word meaning "hawker of salve."   In British slang, "quack" is sometimes used for any doctor.

SICILY, USA?

So anxious are certain Italian politicians to rid themselves of what they regard as the "burden" of the South that one of their number, Mario Borghezio of the Lega Nord,  has suggested that Sicily and Campania be sold to the USA.  The idea that Sicily might become a US state dates back at least to the end of World War 11 and the era of Salvatore Giuliano so its resurgence in another unsettled period is hardly a surprise.  But let's take a light-hearted look at what the idea could mean in practice:

As far as I know, no one, this time round, has asked the Americans if they want to buy but their arrival might speed up transactions at the post office.  On second thoughts, the narrow street that is home to the Modica Sorda post office is far too narrow for all the indigenous cars whose drivers insist on entering it so I can't quite see Cadillacs managing the parking. Most of Modica's streets would have to be widened, in fact, and I think the Modicani would be accommodating about this, understanding as they do the necessity of driving wherever they want to go.

The only time when it is permitted not to drive is during the passeggiata, which takes place after work but before dinner on weekdays and any time after siesta until dinner time on Sundays.  This is when men and women parade in their finery along a set route and when you reach the end of the street or promenade you turn around and walk its whole length again.  It is also where boy meets girl, man courts woman, local gossip is exchanged and fashion trends are set.  It is essential, ladies, to throw on as much bling as possible and the men will blend in once they get used to wearing trainers with suits.  [The trainers, by the way, must be by Gucci.]

But we are jumping ahead, for our happy band of American administrators will need to take a siesta after all that driving and competing for parking spaces, followed by lunch. When they wake up, it will not be time for dinner, as at home, but to head back to the office for a few hours.  Then, having fulfilled their passeggiata duties and survived until the earliest possible hour at which a Sicilian might consider dining - at around 8.30 pm - they may be relieved to know that Sicily does have its own fast food in the form of focacce and arancini.  [Modica even saw off a McDonald's a few years ago so it is better not to mention Big Macs here.]

Pizza, though, is definitely not fast food and should you decide to go out for one you will have to show pazienza while it is cooked in a traditional, stone oven.  It will occur to no one to offer you an aperitvo during this considerable wait so you will have to do what the locals do and order a plate of chips to fill both the time and your stomach.  You are expected to consume one whole pizza each, not between you but don't worry because when it comes it will be so delicious that you will have no difficulty.

Afterwards you will take another passeggiata as you move on to a bar known for its pastries and you might even get to bed at around 1 am or later on Saturdays.  Oh yes, the pace of life might be slower but believe me, you will need all your energy!

Talking of the pace of life, the pace of Italian bureaucracy, as everybody knows, is even slower. No sale has been agreed and I think that, in Sicily, we 'll be happily staying exactly as we are.

ANCHORS - A "LET'S BLOG OFF" POST

Every two weeks, the blogosphere comes alive with something called a Blog Off. A Blog Off is an event where bloggers of every stripe weigh in on the same topic on the same day. The topic for this round of the Blog Off is "The Edge of your World".

When we are children, the edge of the world is represented by the limits of the world we know - the comforting scent of a mother,  the bars of a play pen or cot,  a garden wall, familiar rooms - and  perhaps this is why so many of us scream at our first children's party at another house or on our first day of school. 

For most of us, there is always a loving adult policing our surroundings when we move from that edge

and if we feel we are alone, even for a moment, we become pretty miserable:

However, I think I wanted to test the waters from an early age

and go off on the big ships

but always come back:

As a member of Churchill's "island race" it is not surprising that I am drawn to islands

Me, Elba-bound in 1977

and one day, more than half a century after the black and white photos above were taken, I flew to the biggest island in the Mediterranean and knew that I would not turn back:

In Donnalucata, Sicily - 2005

Sampieri, Sicily

I've written before about how, even then, leaving the comfort zone of my house in Britain was scary but tonight I want to think about one of the things you lose when, having stepped off the edge of your world, you arrive in your new one:  you lose what Alexander McCall Smith calls your "anchor-points".  He puts it thus:

"Just as Freddie de la Hay was missing him, so too was he experiencing that sense of incompleteness when a familiar presence is suddenly no longer there. Such feelings can be profound and long-lived..... or they may be less substantial, more transient, as when a shop or coffee bar we like closes down, or a favourite office colleague is transferred. These may seem little things, but they constitute the anchor-points of our lives and are often more important than we imagine."

- Alexander McCall Smith:  The Dog Who Came in from the Cold

If this is the case even in a city where you have lived all your life, imagine how important such "anchors" are when you change not only your city but your country.  You find new ones, as I wrote here, and you have to cultivate them but when you in turn lose one of these, you can feel quite disorientated for a while. Perhaps that was why I was so upset when Mr T shut up shop.  Yet this regret, for the loss of landmarks in an unfamiliar place, also means that you have integrated, so can be celebrated in a way. These days, though I still miss Mr T, I have become used to the new folk in what used to be his shop, and the butcher who occupies part of it has turned out to be a treasure - an "anchor", in fact.

So for me, stepping beyond the edge of what was my world has meant finding new anchors and it is still an adventure!

I couldn't find a suitable picture of an anchor, so here is my paternal grandfather in naval uniform, complete with anchor on his cap:

Below is the full list of bloggers participating in this week's theme:

Note: This is my last "Let's Blog Off" post as the project has now been wound up. I have enjoyed participating and would like to express particular thanks to Paul for inviting me to do so and for his unfailing support and courtesy. I've made some new friends along the way and I hope we can keep in touch. The "Let's Blog Off" archive can be viewed here.

SICILIAN FLOWER PROVERBS - A "LET'S BLOG OFF" POST

Every two weeks, the blogosphere comes alive with something called a Blog Off. A Blog Off is an event where bloggers of every stripe weigh in on the same topic on the same day. The topic for this round of the Blog Off is "Flowers".

"Mai" flowers in Sicily

Not being a flowery, or "planty" person, I have spent most of this evening wondering how to tackle this post.  Please don't misunderstand me - I am happy to receive, look at and inhale the scent of flowers at any time but I don't want to dig holes for them, worry about them in all weathers or wait for them to grow.


For years I couldn't afford to tame, let alone do anything creative, with my garden back in Cardiff, UK - much to the chagrin of my neighbours - and when I finally did plant some specimens, I enjoyed them when they were small but got rather overwhelmed when they began to spread like triffids.

At around the same time, I went through a house plant phase but the charm wore off when one day I observed live THINGS crawling on some of them.  Yes, I know - "Cu' mancia fa muddichi" - "He who eats makes crumbs", as the Sicilian proverb goes, roughly the equivalent of "You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs" - or grow houseplants without attracting a few attendant bugs, I suppose.

This brings me - unintentionally at the outset, I assure you - to Sicilian proverbs and now we can have a Sicilian proverbs quiz in honour of this week's subject.  Are you ready?  All you have to do is match the proverbs and one saying 1 - 5 with their meanings a - e.  You'll find the answers at the end of the post.

1.  Marva ti sarva.

2.  Favi 'niciuri, acqua a vadduni.

3. 'A biddezza è comu 'n çiuri ca nasci, çiurisci e mori.

4.  Nun c'è rosa senza spini, nun c'è amuri senza peni.

5.  Eni friscu com'i rosi.

a.  Beauty is like a flower that buds, flowers and dies.

b.  Mallow saves you.

c.  There is no rose without thorns and no love without pain.

d.  He's as cool as roses [said of someone who stays calm in a difficult situation].

e.  Broad beans that are in flower need plenty of rain.

Finally, this week's topic does give me an excuse to repost this favourite song from home.  It is sung by the much missed David Alexander:

David Alexander - My Wales

Proverbs quiz answers:
Please highlight the space below to see the answers:
1b, 2e, 3a, 4c, 5d.


Below is the full list of bloggers participating in this week's theme:

UN GRANDE SPETTACOLO

Image:  Wikipedia

In Italy we have been witnessing a "great show" all week and its finale was played out in front of the eyes of the world yesterday, when Silvio Berlusconi at last resigned.  

Rumours of the Premier's political demise had  begun to circulate on Monday on twitter, as Italy struggled to save itself fiscally by satisfying the demands of its eurozone neighbours.  But by the afternoon the Premier had denied the rumours and people all over Italy were trying to work out how to get the cork back into a bottle of champagne.

By Tuesday, however, the scenario had changed again and it was announced that the Premier would resign, but only after full approval of the "Stability Budget" by Parliament - a process which, under normal circumstances, could have taken up to a month.

This time, though, the President and the people, aware of the gravity of the country's situation and of its terrible image abroad, swung into action:  The Budget was rushed through Parliament and by yesterday afternoon everyone was waiting to watch Mr Berlusconi's last journey as Premier - to the Quirinale to hand in his resignation to President Giorgio Napolitano.

The Premier's appointment with the President was, we were told, for 8.30 pm but, this being Italy, no one really expected events to run to time.  Nevertheless, as the minutes ticked by and it became known that Mr Berlusconi was holding a Party meeting, everyone began to wonder if he was about to pull a last rabbit out of the hat - and in fact he did, laying down certain conditions for the Pdl's [People of Freedom] participation in and support of a new, transitional government.  The most reported of these conditions is that Mario Monti, the academic and former EU Commissioner who has become Prime Minister while I have been writing this post, will not, as an unelected Premier, be a candidate when elections are eventually held.

At last, nearly an hour late, Mr Berlusconi was driven to the Quirinale.  He made it known that he was upset and "embittered" by the jeering crowds, who were singing the partisan song, "Bella Ciao" and chanting "Galera!" ["Prison!"] and  "Buffone!"  Ah, Silvio, thus have the mighty ever fallen.  

The announcement that the Premier had, indeed, tendered his resignation came at 10 pm, the twitter feeds went crazy and the spumante was flowing in the streets of Rome and several other cities.  Sicily is traditionally conservative and all remained quiet here in Modica, although the town has a left-wing Mayor in office [by the skin of his teeth]. 

And that brings me to the question which is always asked abroad about Mr Berlusconi:  How did this tycoon, so often ridiculed in the rest of the world, stay in power for so long?  Part of the answer is, of course, that the country has had no effective Opposition, but the real answer, I believe, lies in the personality of the Cavaliere himself: Many of his supporters would claim, with justification, that he did not amass his millions by being stupid and that he has received little credit for his business achievements.  They admire a man who can rise to the top and remain there.  Secondly, as I've written before, Mr Berlusconi appeals to a very Italian instinct - the instinct for joy -  and it is this which may, paradoxically, have toppled him.  

The trouble is that the country's young people, who feel they have no hope, can manifest little joy.  Every day I meet students who tell me that they feel they have no future and that they are ashamed of their country.  And I, as a lover of Italy, have been heartbroken at times, in the past few years, to see the country so derided abroad, largely because of the antics of one man.

That said, I do not think that Mr Berlusconi is all bad:  I am sure that he is very charming and I would rather spend an evening with him than with Nicolas Sarkozy.  My hope for Mr Berlusconi is that he will ditch the airhead models and find the companionship he so obviously needs in a kind, intelligent woman nearer his age.  [But when did men ever learn?!]

Now we are going to have a new, "technocrat" transitional government and what will happen is anyone's guess:  Mr Monti may be able to sort the whole, sorry, economic situation out.  If he needs advice, he will find no shortage of it, with those two self-appointed "headteachers" of the eurozone,  Merkel and Sarkozy, ready to fly to Italy to tell him what to do. Personally, I hope he tells Merkozy to get stuffed as some people, it seems, need to be reminded that Italy is a sovereign state.  As so often happens in hard times, we may see a resurgence of the right;  extreme right-wing parties are already advocating an "Italy for Italians" and the independence-seeking Lega Nord may prove to be more dangerous outside government than within it.  My own country, the UK, panicked by events in Greece and Italy, may even leave the EU, a policy which I believe would be domestically disastrous and which would have serious repercussions for British expatriates here.

Let us hope, however, that all will be well.  I have actually been rather proud of Italy this week, for it was not the bankers who ousted Mr Berlusconi - it was democracy in action.

Finally, for those of you who are going to miss the Cavaliere, don't worry too much:  his new CD of love songs will be out on 22nd November.  But you may prefer to spend your hard - earned cash on earplugs.

TWO MINING LANDS

Eleven months ago, like people all over the world, I sat in front of my television and held my breath as the Chilean miners were rescued.  Today I held my breath again as events unfolded in a mining community in my own country but sadly the outcome was not the one we all hoped for and four Welsh miners died at the Gleision Mine in the Swansea Valley.  You can read the background to the story on my friend Jan's blog.

When you are an emigrant and tragedy strikes in your homeland, it affects you in a very deep way which I cannot quite explain:  perhaps it is because part of you is, and always will be, still there and also because you are so familiar with the place and its people that you instinctively know how they will react. 

Then there are the memories:  Wales, of course, is no stranger to mining disasters and I had a grandfather who had been a miner and told me many stories of these.  The Aberfan disaster of 1966 - caused by deposits of mining debris and doubly cruel because most of the victims were children - changed my life and caused me to question the existence of a loving God at a time when doubts had already surfaced in my mind because of my reading of the French existentialists.

Whether the loss of life be large or small, a tragedy is still a tragedy for those involved and tonight my heart goes out to the families and friends of those who have died.

I do not think it is a coincidence that I have come to live in another land of tight-knit communities where there is a history of mining, in this case, for sulphur.  Many children were forced to work in appalling conditions in  Sicily's sulphur mines in the nineteenth century and the word caruso, a dialect term for "boy",  came to signify a male under fifteen years of age who did this kind of work.

Memories are long in Sicily and the people of South Wales may be sure that the thoughts of Sicilians, like the thoughts of this "Welsh-Sicilian", are with them tonight.

Ar Hyd y Nos - All Through the Night [Welsh folk song]

SICILY HAS WORST YOUTH UNEMPLOYMENT RATE

Italy, according to figures released by the small business association Confartigianato, has the highest youth unemployment rate in Europe with 1,138,000 unemployed under the age of 25.  Of these, young adults under the age of 24 are the worst affected, with 29.6% being unemployed as compared with a European average of 21%.

Sicily is the largest and worst affected of the Italian regions, with 28% of adults under 35 being unemployed.  This compares with a national average of 15.9%. In Southern Italy as a whole 538,000 young people are unemployed. The rate in Campania is 27.6%, in Basilicata it is 26.7% and the rate in Sardinia is 25.2%.  Things are very different in the North, the rate in Trentino-Alto Adige being 5.7% and that in Lombardy being 9.3%.  The rate in the country's smallest region, the Valle d'Aosta, is 7.8%.

I feel sorry for young people in Sicily, who, as I've written  here, do not go around burning the businesses of people who might one day have employed them, loot shops or terrorise the good citizens of their cities.

The unemployment rate for adults in Italy is 23.2%.

WHAT IN SICILY? - 30

Two large stones precisely placed against a wall on a busy street.  They are never moved.  Can you guess what they are used for?

NEWS FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY

Like people all over the world tonight, I am watching the news from Chile,  holding my breath as each man reaches the surface and then crying as he embraces his family. I also find myself gasping at the feats of engineering and technology which are being achieved and, of course, admiring the bravery and resilience of miners and rescuers alike.

Coming from a country with a mining history, I am thinking ,on this night, of all my compatriots who lost their lives in the bowels of the earth and I cannot help wondering how many of them would have been saved had today's technology been available to them.

I would like to quote this passage from one of my favourite books about Wales, Richard Llewellyn's How Green Was My Valley:

"There is patience in the Earth to allow us to go into her, and dig and hurt with tunnels and shafts, and if we put back the flesh we have torn from her and so make good what we have weakened, she is content to let us bleed her.  But when we take, and leave her weak where we have taken, she has a soreness, and an anger that we should be so cruel to her and so thoughtless of her comfort.  So she waits for us, and finding us, bears down, and bearing down, makes us part of her, flesh of her flesh, with our clay in place of the clay we have thoughtlessly shovelled away."

Sicily, of course, has a history of sulphur mining, so this island is no stranger to the hardships suffered by mine workers.  Child labour was used in the sulphur mines until well into the twentieth century.

As the world watches and hopes, I feel sure that the Chilean miners have earned a special place in Welsh and Sicilian hearts.

SICILIAN PROVERBS QUIZ: 17

Love and the trouble it can cause have been subjects much on my mind lately so let's see what the wry Sicilians have to say about it all.

myspace layouts

Match the proverbs 1 - 6 with their meanings a - f .  For answers, highlight the space indicated at the end of the post and they will appear;  they really will;   it's magic, just like love!

1.  Amuri, biddizzi e denari su' tri cosi ch' un' si ponnu ammucciari.

2.  Amuri, tutti dìcinu ch'è amaru, e ognunu voli pruvari siddu è veru.

3.  Lu veru amuri 'ntra lu cori appigghia megghiu di la linazza e di la pagghia.

4.  Pi fari beni l'amuri ci voli 'a forza rê picciuotti e 'u pitittu rê viecci.

5.  'U veru amuri nun anvecchia mai.

6.  Nun c'è rosa senza spini, nun c'è amuri senza peni.

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a.  True love never grows old.

b.  There is no rose without a thorn and there is no love without pain.

c.  Love, beauty and money are three things which cannot be hidden.

d.  Everyone says love is bitter and everyone wants to find out if this is true.

e.  To make love well you need the strength of the young and the desire of the old.

f.  Real love ignites hearts better than flax or straw.

Highlight the space below for answers:
1c; 2d; 3f; 4e; 5a; 6b.

COMING SOON - AUDIO GUIDES TO SICILY

It's nice to be able to report a new Sicilian initiative and this time the island seems to be responding to what tourists want:  from September this year tourists will be able to download audio guides free of charge from the website listentosicily and use them on their iPods, Mp3 players, cellphones or other interactive audio technology as they travel from place to place.

The idea is the inspiration of the independent Catania publishing house Villaggio Maori Edizioni S.A.S and is being developed in partnership with the Provincia Regionale di Ragusa, the Comune of Ragusa and the Comune of Modica.  The first audio guides to be launched will be to Ragusa Ibla, Modica and Scicli, followed by guides to the whole of eastern Sicily.

The audio guides will be available in Italian, English, French, German and Spanish and will suggest innovative itineraries such as gastronomic tours as well as traditional cultural itineraries.

Well done, Villaggio Maori and Ragusa Province!

ONLY IN SICILY

Do pop over to Sicily Guide to read about the Sicilian Festival of Unfinished Public Works.  Yes, there's a museum of them!  Thanks, Sicily Guide, for the best laugh I've had in ages.

ITALY MAGAZINE ROUND-UP

Here's a selection of my Italy Magazine articles from last week:

In one of the quirkiest news stories I've covered, you can read about an audacious Welsh company and its plans for the Italian market.

If you are interested in art, here you can read about some unusual art exhibitions or, if you prefer ancient art, about some newly opened Etruscan tombs in Lazio.

Finally, for my personal Patti Chiari column I describe the summer sounds of Sicily.

Happy reading.

QUIZ: SICILIAN PROVERBS - 16

A mixed bag tonight and, as usual, all you have to do is match the proverbs 1 - 6 with their meanings a - f.  Answers will magically appear below when you highlight the space indicated!

1.  Tuttu 'u munnu è paisi.

2.  'N' arbiru nun si tàgghia â pprimu cuoppo.

3.  Çiurietti e prirricaturi duoppu Pasqua nun anu sapuri.

4.  Giudicari e 'nniminari, Diu sulu lu pò fari.

5.  Amuri è amaru, ma ricría lu cori.

6.  La scarsizza fa lu prezzu.

a.  Love is bitter but it reassures the heart.

b.  Broccoli and preachers have no taste after Easter [ie., there is a season for everything].

c.  Scarcity fixes the price.

d.  All the world is a village.

e.  A tree isn't felled at the first cut [ie., you must be persistent to achieve a goal].

f.  Only God knows how to judge and predict the future.


Highlight the space below for answers:

1d, 2e, 3b, 4f, 5a, 6c.

QUIZ: SICILIAN PROVERBS - 15

A proverbs quiz for Friday night and these are all about old age, a subject much on my mind lately.  Just match the proverbs 1 - 6 with their meanings a - f:

1.  A li vecchi cci màancanu li forzi e ci criscinu li pititti.

2.  Cui vecchiu voli campari, a bon'ura voli accuminzari.

3.  La vecchia 'un voli jocu, voli pani, vinu e focu.

4.  Lu dimoniu sapi assai pirché è vecchio.

5.  'Na vota si gabba la vecchia; appressu vota vi chiuj la porta.

6.  Lignu vecchiu megghiu adduma ma cchiù prestu si consuma.

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a.  The devil knows a lot because he's old.

b.  Old wood burns better but turns to ashes quicker.

c.  The old have less strength and a bigger appetite.

d.  An old lady doesn't want games.  She wants bread, wine and a fire.

e.  You can only swindle an old lady once;  after that she'll close the door in your face.

f.  If you want to live into old age you have to get up early.

Highlight below this line for answers:
1c, 2f, 3d, 4a, 5e, 6b.

COME AND BUY

Traditional cart selling nuts, dried chestnuts and pumpkin seeds in Modica Bassa on Sunday evening.

"SHINE SICILY" - A TOUR OPERATOR WITH A DIFFERENCE

I am writing this post on behalf of ShineSicily.com .

Do you feel inspired to visit Sicily after reading some of my blog posts? I hope so and now I am going to introduce you to a tour operator who can help you. My new friends, Boris, a Sicilian living in Barcelona, and Marta, who was born in that lovely city, run a small travel company called ShineSicily and I think you will love their informative, user-friendly website, which has fabulous photos of Sicily.

As its name suggests, the company specialises in tours to Sicily but also organises trips to Sardinia, another breathtakingly beautiful island. Boris tells me that they don't have an English version of their web pages about Sardinia yet, but it is coming and, of course, Boris and Marta will help you if you contact them with a view to visiting Sardinia.

"What is different about ShineSicily's tours?" you will be wondering by now. The fact that it is a specialist tour operator means that you can expect tailor made holidays planned by people who have an in-depth knowledge of the locations they deal with, but this is not unique in the travel business. What I think singles ShineSicily out as a tour operator with a difference is that Boris and Marta personally select the hotels and services they use. They go to meet the owner of a hotel or restaurant, have a leisurely coffee on the premises and get to know him or her, slowly, as is the Sicilian way. And they remember their first impressions and how they felt, for that is probably how their clients are going to feel, too.

But Boris and Marta do not just add the name of a service provider to their list and leave it at that: They build up a relationship, continue their visits and take note of changes, always with the needs of their clients in mind. The service providers become a sort of " extended family " and they, together with Boris and Marta, are always on hand to give clients advice and personal tips.

You can choose from itineraries called Authentic Sicily, Rural Sicily , Charming Sicily or a tour to the Aeolian Islands and the company can help you whether you are looking for an organised tour or wish to travel independently.

ShineSicily keeps its prices competitive by operating online only. In this way, says Boris, the company can offer you "efficiency, personal service, rapidity and technological innovation". If you are interested in one of their tours, just contact the company by email or phone for a personal tour proposal. Oh, and while you're over at their site, do check out the "interesting facts" it gives about Sicily. I've learnt a lot myself by looking through some of these and now I'm off to read some more.....


ShineSicily.com
Email: info@shinesicily.com
Telephone: There is a Skype link on the site.
Fixed UK telephone line: 0044 20 71930139
Barcelona office: 0034 93 51 47 831

Click here to see an example personalised tour proposal and here to see customer feedback.

DENISE - AN ITALIAN TRAGEDY

I've been following the Denise Pipitone case since I arrived in Sicily in 2005. This week the case has taken a new turn. This is an article of mine which was published in Italy Magazine today:

How Denise Pipitone might look today.

The 2004 disappearance of Denise Pipitone in Sicily was so strange that she has been dubbed “Italy’s Madeleine McCann”.

On 1st September 2004 Denise, then aged four, was playing outside her house in Mazara del Vallo [Trapani] while her mother was preparing lunch. She was last seen at 11.45 am. By noon there was no trace of her.

On 18th October 2004 a bank security guard saw a child who resembled Denise in Milan. The child was with a group of people who appeared to be travellers or Roma. The guard called the police but the group left before they arrived. The guard took a videoclip with his cellphone and in it the child speaks to a woman in the group in Italian. Denise’s mother, Piera Maggio, told the press that she believed the child was her daughter and a police analysis of the clip found physical resemblances to Denise but it was not possible to confirm the child’s identity.

Since then, as in the Madeleine McCann case, there have been many unconfirmed “sightings”, most notably of a child found on Kos in 2008. However, DNA tests confirmed that the woman looking after that child was her biological mother.

Piera Maggio has never given up her efforts to find Denise and she was largely responsible for the passing of a law making the abduction of a minor without demanding a ransom a crime in Italy and for an amendment imposing more severe penalties.

Now, however, the case has taken on an upsetting and sinister twist: Denise’s 22-year-old stepsister, Jessica Pulizzi, has been indicted on charges of complicity in kidnapping and her trial began, in her absence because of illness, yesterday. Jessica’s mother, the first wife of Piero Pulizzi, is also under investigation. The hypothesis is that Jessica Pulizzi abducted Denise in order to avenge Piera Maggio, the woman she blamed for the break-up of her parents’ marriage. Pulizzi’s former boyfriend is also being tried for giving false statements to the prosecutor.

Meanwhile Piera Maggio’s agony continues.

TOLERANCE

This little plot outside a shop near my home is carefully tended by the ladies of the shop, so they were, unsurprisingly, angry when someone started to dig up the flowers at night. A week or so ago this notice appeared. I'm sorry the writing, which has weathered a few storms over the past few days, isn't clear in the photo. It reads,

Don't steal the flowers - thief!

And then, in a typically Sicilian gesture of tolerance, the ladies have added,

If you ask us for some, we'll give them to you.

In another nearby shop, a recently vacated furniture store, one bed, with bedclothes, has been left in the middle of the ground floor. And there someone sleeps every night, very cosily tucked in so that you can only see his woollen hat on the pillow, clothes neatly folded over the one chair that has also been left behind, in full view of anyone who cares to glance at the shop's window. [He is still there at 10 am.] How he gets in, I don't know, for there is no sign of any forcing of the door. The owner, who has not moved far away, must know about his nocturnal visitor by now, for news travels fast in small towns and I can only suppose that, in another gesture of tolerance, he has decided to turn a blind eye. I have neither the heart nor the wish to invade the sleeping man's privacy by taking a photo for he probably gets little of it. He is doing no one any harm and "There but for the grace of God go I...."