PATENTE FACILE (easy licenses)

Here is an update on (what else?) licensing and police habits and such in Sicily. Take it away, guest writer Steve:

Well folks, another chapter in the ongoing story of my attempts to get a drivers license.

I think I told you that when we took the group of 11 (with Fran’s brother and his wonderful wife Jo) to Palermo, I had to ditch the group for a little while to go visit Angelo, our Palermitano friend that we met in Istanbul, who works for his father at a frame shop in the Centro Storico. I had to visit him, as he thought he might have a way to get me a driver’s license a bit quicker than the normal channels, through which I was going. As it turned out, the licenses were not available at that moment, and his father warned me away from them, saying that they were only good in Palermo.

Well, since then, there have been two large articles in the paper about Patente Facile. Both had to do with a number of arrests. First in Palermo. A few dozen folks had been caught by the Carabinieri (note, they are like the federal police, not the local or provincial police) for driving with Patente Facile. The Patente Facile, or Easy License, is basically a counterfeit license. And it was only good in Palermo, as everyone looked the other way to the folks who were using them.

The fly entered the ointment with the appointment of a new Questura in the Region of Sicily. He has been going around, doing all sorts of things that could not be done before, and trying to become popular, I think. In Sciacca, he reopened the police station that was in the emergency room of the hospital, so when they had a prisoner in the hospital, the police would have a place to hang out and drink coffee, and when there was an accident or crime they had to investigate, when an injured person was in the hospital, they would not waste time stopping for coffee on their way to the hospital to take the statement. Actually, they double their chances to get coffee this way. First, they have to rush to the scene before the bodies are scraped off the pavement to take measurements of the accident (with, of course, a stop for coffee on the way) and then they must rush back to the hospital with lights and siren and another stop for coffee, to take the statement.

Anyway, while he gives with one hand, he seems to take with the other hand. He did some things to improve traffic in Palermo, but in return, he apparently ordered a crack down on PFs. Therefore the arrests. This last week, there were even more arrests. Another twelve people, mostly from Agrigento Province, were arrested for using PFs. We live in Agrigento Province. One of the people arrested was the ex mayor of Santa Margherita de Belice, which is a place we have taken tourists to, and also a place where we have bought some exceptional wines.

All of the folks so far are under house arrest, and if they do not tell who they bought their PFs from, they may go to jail. Probably not. Anyway, I am too close to feeling like I am under house arrest to really want to tempt the fates. But I did jokingly ask my driver Michele if I should ask my drving school instructor Stefano if he could get me a PF. Michele said it was probably not a good idea. It seems Stefano’s father, who ran the driving school before Stefano and his brother Ezio took it over, was arrested for selling PFs in 1993. It cost him a pretty penny, and a lot of ugly lira, and he was under house arrest for several years.

It seems that all the folks who used PFs were fined the equivalent of 500 Euro, and then had to go to driving school and get a real license, which costs about another 500 Euros. They had already paid about 300 Euros for their PF. The 300 Euros that they paid for their PF was added to the normal fine to the person who issued the PF. The government makes out like a bandit on this one. It is certainly a part of the bureaucracy I want to avoid.

As long as we are talking about the government making out like a bandit, there was another interesting story in the news about the Department of Terrestrial Transport (formerly the Bureau of Motorization) (Trasporti terrestriale ne Motorazione). This has to do with a parking ticket. A parking ticket given to someone who parked in an area reserved for taxis in Rome.

When you park in an area reserved for specific sorts of vehicles (taxis, ambulances, government officials, or the disabled) (and those are about the only four categories I have learned of so far), you face not only a parking ticket, but also points on your license. One is allowed 20 points. One can get two points for this infraction, and the parking fine must be paid by the owner of the vehicle, but the points go to the person who parked in the wrong area. The usual fine is between 50 and 150 Euros.

However, in this case, the person who owned the vehicle did not want to rat out the person who was driving. Apparently, the driver already had too many points. The owner also had too many points. So the court decided that they could not force the owner to rat out the driver. However, the owner had to pay a different fine. He now is liable for a fine from 943 Euros to 1568 Euros. That is a fairly hefty parking fee. Even by NYC standards, including a tow away.


All of this would have been lost on me had I not been going to driving school. Just a little side benefit, I guess.

In the meantime, I hope you have parked your car legally, and have yourself a wonderful memorial day weekend. . . .

END OF HOUSE ARREST?

We are nearing the end. Steve had his appointment moved up to June 8, and that means we may even get to the Greek theatre performance at Tindari, Taormina, or Segesta. But even if it is only a week earlier, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, which is what the last picture of the last entry was supposed to show! We are dreaming of freedom and our celebrations trip. Today we are leaning toward a jazz/blues fest with some international stars near Florence. I would love to see Florence again and catch up on all that I missed, plus seeing the Uffizi with new eyes (and not-so-tired legs!).
In the meantime, we have enjoyed the hospitality of new friends Brigette, Joe, and Enza, Sicilians who formerly lived in New Jersy and now have found someone to speak English with. Brigette makes a mean pizza in her wood forno (oven) and they are formidable gardeners, as you can see by the accompanying pictures. I would never have thought to plant papyrus, calla lilies, and bird of paradise plants all together but they are simply gorgeous. Their fountain and gazebo have made a tiny paradise here in Sciacca, a suitable setting for Joe’s hybrid hibiscus plants from Tahiti.
Then yesterday we got out of the house again! We met Americans Joe and Kathy Piede, who were touring Sicily, for a day in Sciacca. We did the regular Sciacca things-the tasting room at Perrones, views from San Calogero, the port for a fish auction, Sciacca ceramicists for buying souvenirs, and pranzo at Desiderio. I felt like a little kid for I was getting out of the house for the first time in a long time! Even seeing the changes in the fields of orchards and vineyards between here and Menfi were a treat. We really enjoy sharing our town with others who might miss the little corners and specialties that we have come to know.
Back on the home front, the tomatoes and cucuzzi are growing well. And the clean-up has finally started in the resort, and we even have our own parking space numbers! So come see us and park at 12 or 13, whichever is free.

GETTING THINGS DONE-US AND SICILY, 2005

Most Americans are familiar with the phrase, “Hurry up and wait!” The US army is famous for that very issue, getting men and supplies where they are supposed to be only to have them cool their heels once they get there. But in Italian, the phrase, “Hurry up!” is not even used very often. In fact, it is almost unknown as a response to a situation which in the states might be perceived as a crisis. Whatever the US shortcomings, they do have a reputation for immediate action. An Italian neighbor joked with me that the Italians still expect the Americans to make it all right in the end, just as Americans have done for Italy all along. Our Italian guide at Selinunte said the same thing as she explained that the restoration of the temple there had been paid for by the Americans after World War 2. Americans have a reputation for getting things done, and in a hurry.
I say all of this because we are having to learn the hard way how to deal with the Italian way of doing things. “Pacienza” is a sympathetic word that people will tell you when you complain about things being mired in bureaucratic red tape. “Pian piano” is another phrase they use, “little by little,” which reminds me of a phrase my mother used to throw at us when we were little. “You think it’s all fun?” she would shout. Anything to show you that the world is not just against you, it’s everybody’s lot to have the fates fly in your face, and that things will be OK if you just wait awhile patiently. Which sure does not get things done!
Americans our age get used to a lifetime of solving problems by taking action. If a situation is not right, then there must be someone somewhere that can make it better. You can make a call, a visit, write a letter or email. You can write to your congressman. Contact the consumer protection agencies that abound. Find out what can and should be done, for yourself as well as for others in your situation, even resorting to a class action suit in courts if the grievance cannot be resolved any other way.
But here, well, there is just so little that one can do to address a grievance. Maybe because of all the small businessmen in all the little niches of society, “Consumerism,” that is, the rights a person is entitled to by being the consumer of a product, is not a popular idea here. People are afraid to rat on each other-they prefer to suffer and vent by gossip and grousing among friends and colleagues rather than file official complaints. The code of “Omerta” is still alive and kicking.
Government does not seem to be very receptive either. Why? Because the job of government is to STAY in government, while doing as little as possible. Really. Because the more they “rock the boat,” the more people’s feet they step on. I think I am used to the idea now, but I cannot see how people can believe any campaign slogans, for they are all bald faced lies to me. Change in Sicily just does not happen easily, and the protests against any kind of change are always evident, from small gatherings of students or workers to huge rallies and strikes that stop everyday life. If some one person or group has a stake in the change that they perceive to be negative, they will drag their heels in the ground and stop whatever phase of operations they are involved in. And THAT is the extent of consumer action here.

We are still without a valid driver’s licence here and will be for at least another month. Why? Because the nameless, faceless individual in Agrigento that schedules driver’s tests has scheduled Steve’s oral test for June 15 in Agrigento. He has been ready for weeks now and legally he could have taken the test any day after a month and a day of driver’s school. And because I have the same licenses that Steve had, a valid International driver’s license from AAA, and a valid NY state driver’s license, I can’t drive legally either. And so two cars sit out in the parking lot.
So because of the whims of someone, somewhere, we are like prisoners here. We do not have home mail delivery (you all remember THAT story!), we are far from any grocery stores, we cannot even walk to a restaurant. I am sad to think of all that we have missed. The small mountain towns and corners of cities we could have discovered. The museums and wine cantinas that have had open houses. The change of seasons in the countryside. The concerts, theatre, movies we could have gone to. And the pizzerias and restaurants that we could have visited instead of me cooking so many meals. I don’t mind any of that so much, but I do think that it is supreme stupidity to prevent residents, even guest residents like us, from spending money in their country
And the big frana (earth collapse) on the road leading to our beach that I wrote about earlier this year? Word has it that work on repairing that (again!) will start next week. But it has gotten larger and more dangerous than ever before in its three year history. It was repaired a few other times and the repairs “didn’t take.” We shall see if all the aspects of Sicilian government bureaucracy has been done correctly and the correct papers filed and stamps affixed and signatures signed.
And the big bridge between Menfi and Sciacca, damaged by the earthquake that occurred the week after we moved here in September 2002? Word has it that that will be completed and the road opened at the end of May, despite Mafia interference (their guys did NOT get the contract for the work) and bad weather delays. Again, we shall see. After all, commuters only go an extra 20-30 kilometers each day because of the detour. The scary thing is how many people have died from road accidents using the twisty turny back road detours at high speed. But apparently, nothing can speed up the process of Sicilian workers doing their jobs. At least WE are safe, here without a valid driver’s license.

BEACH

It is pretty late in the season for us to have our first beach day. There are several reasons why, but especially because of late spring weather whimsies. And there has been no progress made in repairing our resort’s stairs that fell down from the rain landslides this winter. Plus it is just dirty down there-there is all the debris still on the beach from winter. They seriously clean up the beach with front end loaders only in June. Remember those oranges and bamboo shoots the ocean carried from Ribera farms and rivers that I showed pictures of in March? Well, they are still there, along with lots of other trash, including plastic debris from boats and picnickers. There is also an abundance of organic matter rotting around and under all of that, washed up by high winds lately. I know all this because I decided to check it out today. Steve did not feel like going for several fine days when I first wanted to go, so I finally just went by myself.
The national paper yesterday claimed that more than 73% of all costal area in Sicily is polluted! That is up 4% from last year. I thought that a high number but then again, they call polluted beaches that adjoin farmlands, where soil enters sea waters. Most of the farmlands that are the richest and highest producing in Sicily are on the coastal plains, hence the problem of soil entering water. Since Sicily has a huge amount of coastal water, the article also admits that it has not tested all of the water on every beach, so a lot of this is coastline that is just not reachable nor able to be used for swimming because of terrain and wind conditions. But there is also a lot of “abusive” housing, housing that is illegal but still exists and pumps septic into the sea. And naturally, there are not the environmental controls we are used to that would keep factories from being built with seawater discharges.
I think of this when I see the mess of sea plants pushed up onto shore as I head down to the beach. It can be really disgusting to see this stuff clogging the whole beach, but I notice today that some has been cleared off by wind and waves. I set up on some dry sand and I notice a structure built of bamboo canes washed up on shore nearby, probably to keep wind off of someone who is sunbathing. I notice the cuttlefish have been pushed up onshore again. If you ever had a bird in a cage and had to buy these things for them to trim their beaks, chances are they came from this area of the Mediterranean.
I lay on the beach for an hour watching the fish boats of the local fleet chugging around the bend, trying to get used to the smell that comes from the rotting matter (in Italian, “puzza”) and the flies that buzz me. Finally I give up and head toward Paolo’s house to see the latest repair (third or fourth, I forget which) of the fallen wall for his grandkid’s soccer pitch. It looks good-maybe this one will take. As they say,”en boca lupa”-Good Luck!

A COMPARISON: CONSUMERISM, CONCLUSIONS

Today I conclude this essay with some thoughts about shopping in the 50's in Dunkirk and in Sciacca.

Consumerism and jobs-“buyer beware”
Shopping for necessities in small towns in Sicily often requires a trip to a big store in a big city, just as I had to do before giant discount stores became the rule of the land in America. As then, there are a lot of cheap Chinese-made products available here, often in open air markets and from peddlers that go from town to town. The other alternative is top-of-the-line products in specialty stores, often established for the purpose of supplying expensive gifts for life occasions such as weddings, anniversaries, or special birthday gifts. But it is hard to find mid-prized products of good quality anywhere in small towns. I had a very hard time buying mid-priced heavy pots and pans. And some products are not available at all times in all locations as many things are considered seasonal. Do not try to buy clothes pins or room fans in the wintertime for they just are not available. Small towns in Sicily just do not have Wal-Mart!
And just like when I was a kid, there appear to be no real consumer protection laws, for ads on TV really DO lie about products, seemingly with no real repercussions. “Fat Buster” and astrology/magic potion advertisements on daytime TV are the ones that are the most comical to me. We regularly receive brochures with outrageous claims for products with no prices listed. The prices will not be revealed until you send in your order! Cynicism of products is learned and the concept “caveat emptor” was invented by the Romans here in Italy. It seems the general public accepts these anomalies, sort of like if they only dupe dumb people and they can get away with it, it is not all that wrong.
But despite all this I think the Italian love of business and style make Sicilians today much better shoppers than we were in the 1950s. Sadly, I predict supply and demand will see the end of all the tiny specialty stores here in Sciacca and more consumer-oriented cheaper mega stores like in the US. And I think that will be a real shame. Small personalized stores are a characteristic of small towns that I remember from the states in the 50’s. The specialty stores here really do offer personal service for customers, though granted at a higher price. And they provide a niche for more jobs and more family employment.
For associated with consumer buying is the problem of lack of jobs, and especially, the availability of only low paying jobs. Unemployment in Sicily is such a problem that men often take on two or three of these jobs to make ends meet. This makes jobs for teens hard to get. I do not remember many jobs available for teenagers when I was growing up and today, ambitious young people have to leave Sciacca for job opportunities, just as young Americans did when I was younger. But contrary to what it was like in the 60’s, when every American kid who was of age wanted to leave home, many young people in Sicily today WANT to stay home and live off of their parents to wait for the right opportunity. So much in the way of work here comes about because of having the right “connections.” Advanced education is of questionable value to many young people because jobs do not often come with a degree, and many youths go on to “university” only so they can prolong their period of dependence on their parents until they can find something better to do.
I do not remember stores being open on Sundays or holidays in the 50’s, although the “Sunday Blue Laws” haven’t been in effect in the US for many years. In Sciacca, almost nothing is open on a Sunday and there are laws on the books to prosecute stores that do get greedy and open up. But just as in most everything else, bigger cities (mostly in industrial northern Italy) are closer to the American model, offering big stores with Sunday and holiday hours. The American model is creeping closer, as Palermo and Catania super stores now have Sunday hours!


CONCLUSION
In some ways I have been surprised at the modernity of modern day Sicily. The general level of prosperity here is very high compared to what I (and many Americans) would have thought for the “old country.” This is hard to tell at first, for in most villages the ancient stone houses and lanes have not changed for hundreds, even thousands of years. But although the outsides of houses are often unadorned plain concrete facades, the typical insides feature marble and massive wooden furniture, rich fabrics and interior decorator-type furnishings and wall hangings. Another huge surprise is the sophistication and the number of cell phones in use. Both are amazingly high here, for everyone from 8 year-old kids to grandparents has his own cell, and national statistics show there are more cell phones than family members. Surprising too is the sophistication of new car technology, an intelligent response to high gas prices here. The smaller size and alternate energy systems in them make you think that Sicilians are firmly placed in the 21st century.
But then, central heating is still not in use in many cold stones houses for the chilly winter months. Without central heating, I have been colder here than I ever was in the states, even in polar temperatures in the northeast. And there are even fewer clothes dryers per household. I remember my mother taking frozen solid sheets off of the clothesline.
So Sicily is a constant contradiction, but a familiar one for me. Some Sicilians mourn the slow development of their country and the foolish starts and stops of projects and wasted money of a bureaucracy more interested in form than function. Our friend Paolo visited relatives in the US 10 years ago and estimated it would take Sicily 30 years to “catch up” to the infrastructure and technology he saw then. I smile and mentally add to this 10 years another 10 to his 30 year estimate to make the 50 year separation between my childhood and now. This is certainly true in terms of making things work correctly by solving problems cooperatively. But I am thankful to be here in retirement to live my second childhood knowing enough to enjoy it.

A COMPARISON: FOOD, FORMALITY, HEALTH CARE

Today I am continuing yesterday's story about comparing Sciacca, Sicily, and Dunkirk, NY

Food
Despite the importance of the “slow food” tradition here, today’s Sicilians seem to have an enchantment with all things instant. “White bread” in packages and the use of instant, frozen meals is becoming widespread. There are even a few McDonald’s restaurants in Sicily now. Fortunately there is now a government push to recognize the heritage of fresh and tasty Sicilian food for export marketing. Maybe this will remind Sicilians of how good they have it here.
Although I grew up on a farm with an orchard and had a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables and mostly homemade food, I don’t think my experience of more fresh food than processed food was unique in the 50’s. For one thing, frozen and canned foods were not as cheap as they have come to be. But both of my grandmothers told me that the thing they missed most about Sicily was the taste of the food. Where we live now in agricultural Agrigento province, we get the freshest of the season’s artichokes and cardoon, fava beans and strawberries, melons and peaches. Once you eat an orange or tomato grown here, you will understand what my poor grandmothers missed. And elderly people picking greenery and snails by the side of the road is as common a sight here just as when I was a kid. We joked about the old ladies in black dresses and black stockings then!
Sicily is changing though. Modern life for Northern Italians is quickly becoming faster paced, more like in the states than like their countrymen in Sicily. Northerners depend more on factory work and traditional jobs without a pranzo (long lunch) break, so they are gradually becoming dependent on fast food. The tradition of kids coming home from school for lunch, as I did in the 50’s, is diminishing. But here, Sciacchitani still eat a large family meal together about 2 PM every day, with mother and dad home from work to meet the kids coming home from school. And still traditional here is the emphasis on the value of “food-from-scratch.” I have enjoyed recipe exchanges with my new friends here even before I spoke much Italian, recipes far less precise than American ones (“a pinch” as an amount, “‘till it’s done” as a time measure), but just delicious.

Formality
There is an emphasis here on the correct way to do things in all social matters. This “formality” is maybe not so much formal, but a formula for how to behave politely, and I remember having to learn these same rules when I was a kid. I am always addressed now as “Signora” by strangers, and I am expected to speak to strangers when they enter a store, to call “Buongiorno” and “Buon pranzo” to anyone as I leave. Showing respect to those who you deal with closely by giving “bacci” (kisses) is still always emphasized. I remember having to kiss relatives that I barely knew when I was a kid. Now friends make their younger children kiss me. I have come full circle!
You can see this formality in terms of most people’s clothing. When I was a child, there was always a set of “good clothes” that we had to keep in optimum condition for Sundays. I was one of those little girls who wore white gloves every Sunday, and carried a purse with a clean white ironed handkerchief in it. I learned early that people judged you by what you wore, that clothing was not just for covering your body, but it was for “show.”
Here, women my age and even younger will still not be caught in public without a girdle and stockings. Older men are always in wool suit jackets and typical Sicilian hats, women in (often) elegant knit suits, stockings, and leather shoes no matter what the weather. Fur coats and dyed (usually red) hair are the norm. Babies and toddlers wear miniature adult clothing, not hand-me-downs. Even the various jobs in town are signaled by the uniforms workers wear. Just as in America in the 50’s, gas station attendants always have them on, as do maintenance workers and repairmen of all kinds. I look on these customs with interest, but as an American, I am afraid that I am just too used to comfort. Perhaps if I were younger this would not be the case, but no matter how Sicilian I look, I will never “pass” because my uniform of jeans and sneakers is too foreign at this time in Sicily.
Visible formality can be seen in Sicilian homes, too, a formality not seen in the US in years. Besides being spotless, they all have a formal area for entertaining, with the “good” furniture, family pictures and decorations. Of course there is a private, more comfortable and messy part of the house just for the family, but as I remember from my childhood, a lot of informal entertaining takes place around the big kitchen table. When I was a kid in Dunkirk, “parlors” complete with usually uncomfortable formal furniture and doilies were common. They were unused and they were for “good,” not for everyday use.

Health care
Sicilians in the states and here have come a long way from the “malocchio” that my grandmothers so firmly believed in. But today in Sicily there are still “Magi,” who claim that they can effect cures through prayer and various magical incantations (for the right price). They travel around and advertise in flyers and posters, and we hear about occasional problems they have with unhappy customers in the newspapers.
In world health rankings, Italian medicine is right up there, but its quality varies drastically from region to region. Sicily does not have one of the more highly developed health care systems, with problems especially in the lack of available hospital beds. But here, just as when I was a kid, doctors are trusted implicitly as wise men that will make you better with a pill. House calls are even possible if you know the right people.
And folk medicine is certainly practiced here, just as I saw when I was a kid. Poultices and garlic cloves, amulets and religious objects are applied to the body in various positions, scarves worn around the neck over various rubs and pastes. Abuse of penicillin and other anti-viral drugs is big because people do not seem to care about viral immunity problems. Yogurt based anti-bacterial products to drink daily are also big, and ads to encourage ingestion of them are prolific.
The importance of exercise is not always understood here, especially since life is so physically hard for a lot of people in this agricultural setting. Although there is some jogging and biking, organized sports in Sciacca consists mostly of soccer and dance. Sicilians my age will still say it is a waste of time since exercise was something that came about as part of their daily life when they were younger. I can remember my parents saying the same things to us kids when we wanted to join team sports.
Beaches are still full of sun bathers who do not swim, but stand in the water working on their tans, as if skin cancer was never heard of, just as I did every summer. And kids do not go in swimming until ½ hour after they have eaten, just like I remember. How I hated waiting that ½ hour!

CHILDHOOD REVISITED: SCIACCA, 2005-DUNKIRK 1955

Since we are still under what I consider “house arrest,” I thought I would send some of the old pictures I have and an essay I wrote for a magazine (still to be published) about my feelings moving here and how similar things are to when I was a kid. This is long, so will be in several installments. Stay tuned!


Living in Sciacca, Sicily has brought back childhood memories and is in many ways like reliving my childhood experiences of growing up in the western New York town of Dunkirk in the 50’s. I live in a foreign country where the sights, sounds, and tastes are surprisingly familiar to me. I hear the music and some of the old language I haven’t heard since I was a kid, and people look like me and have the same names and faces as friends and relatives that I remember from when I was growing up. These are just some of the many similarities between what my life was like as a child growing up in a large Sicilian-American family and what life is like where I live now. It is like being caught in a time warp in which everyone thinks and acts as they did when I was a kid. Only I have changed, for I am a modern American woman who has suddenly physically traded places (and bodies!) with my grandmothers. But little else of substance in Sicily seems to have changed, and the old customs that I grew up with form the basis of life here.
It is a strange disjunction for a 58 year-old woman as I keep getting flashbacks of what things WERE like by constantly recognizing so much of current Sicilian culture, remembering the close-knit circle of family and extended relatives that I grew up with. I say to myself so often, “Oh, yeah, I remember that!” Half forgotten words as well as foods and tastes are big triggers of memory, proving that early sensual impressions never really leave you. The first time I smelled the fruit from the fig tree in my backyard, before I even ate a fig, I was back in my grandmother’s yard with my parents urging me to taste it. I even remember that first taste-it was identical to the taste of that fig in my Sicilian garden.
But there is also this: although I remember wistfully how things used to be in the US before so much progress wiped out simple joys like fresh figs, on the other hand I feel dismay that so much distance still has to be covered before things can progress here to meet current US standards. Life here is still primitive in some important areas, such as sanitation and environmental quality. But thinking of the big, impersonal structures in place in the USA today, from stores and schools to family life itself, I revel in the seemingly innocent pageantry of life here. And above all I enjoy re-living the joys of my childhood yet a second time.

Family and Church
The main source of entertainment and concern in 1950s USA was the family. We did not go to movies, beaches, playgrounds, or parks a lot, but we did go to christenings, first communions, confirmations, weddings, reunions, and family dinners. Through constant proximity, my best friends were my cousins. I was even a bridesmaid for cousins in three different weddings. My family still has a tradition shared by many other Italian families, to sit down to dinner at my octogenarian parents’ table for Sunday dinner each week.
Here in Sciacca, the closeness and importance of family ties are still MUCH stronger than the norm in the US today. Young boys accompany their dads and uncles on walks in the town piazza and teen age girls shop arm in arm with their moms. Extended families live in the same neighborhoods, often in the same apartment complexes. Elderly parents live with their sons and daughters. Whole families go for nightly passegiate (promenades) in the town piazza.
These strong family bonds are universal. And while the closeness of families has led to a traditional distrust of outsiders, people here display an open curiosity to strangers in their midst. Trust is always withheld until familiarity is established (this same skepticism is the basis for the cynicism Sicilians feel in their dealing with government, schools, and official agencies). This is not to say that we have been shunned by Sicilians. On the contrary, the warmth of the people who have adopted us as part of their families has been unmatched by anything I remember in the states. Anything, that is, outside of my mother’s house, for she was very similar in her embrace of strangers. Family came first, but there was always room for expansion when new people were adopted.
Thinking again about American family relationships in the 50’s, I remember a lot of gender stereotyping as I was growing up. I see this still reflected here in things like men riding together in the front seat of a car while the wives sit in back together, men being served at the table first, and grandma left home to cook while everyone else goes out for a walk. And when I was a kid, there were different codes of behavior for boys and girls; boys did things girls could not, showing everyone how brave and strong they are (tom-boys were a disgrace), and boys were not required to clean or do household chores. Nowadays in Sciacca (thankfully), I see that women have a strong decision making role in most families. Maybe they always did, but it was more behind the scenes.
Although Sicilian families are not as big as the families I remember when I was a kid, the ties that bind are much stronger than in the states now. Church weddings with huge receptions are a must, and are understood to be once-in-a-lifetime affairs. A couple’s financial future is set with the wedding, and thousands of dollars are spent on furnishings of new apartments or houses. It is common practice for couples to go deeply into debt early in their marriages after their parents have given them all that they have saved up for their child’s wedding and new home. Separation and divorce are devastating financially, as well as crushing family ordeals, and so couples stay married no matter what. Domestic quarrels are not treated seriously because they are considered part of the family dynamic, especially when so many persons live so close together. I remember well these attitudes toward marriage from when I was young.
Close behind the importance of family is the importance of the Catholic religion in everyday life. As a child, I knew and associated only with Catholics, which was handy because I was taught anyone not Catholic would go to hell. It was easier to associate with people I would meet again in the afterlife!
Today in Sciacca, the religion of the state is always in evidence. The US controversies over school prayer and the Ten Commandments in public places are often in the news and are not understood here. As in the US of the 50’s, more women attend church than men, and the degree of reverence of many Catholics is hard to tell at least in public. There are always nativity scenes in school Christmas pageants, crucifixes in each classroom and public office, saint’s days are announced on TV and on all calendars, and crossing oneself in front of churches and before meals is an unselfconscious act that is seen daily. Many church feast days are also public holidays with special public observances, often including the closing of public offices, schools, banks, etc. Each town has its own patron saints, both for protection and to honor in feast day festivals.

CARNAVALE FLOATS AND ART

The floats were truly outstanding this year, as you can see. Tonight is the end, and we will have our town back after the 200,000 + spectators leave. The first picture is an art show at the old church of Santa Margherita, using fishermen's seafood crates to display the photos of the sea. The second is an old ceramic model for a float from the 80's. Float constructors have been required to submit thses models for decades. Quite a collection of them were on display.
The floats are always a treat to see just before the parade because workers are always still working on them feverishly. You can see a crane in the picture that is used to hoist up moving heads and parts of bodies, right up till the last hour before the floats take off. And then you see them later in all their glory, with elaborately costumed dancing groups behind, music, lights, smoke, special effects, and parts of these huge structures mechanically moving and changing positions. I think they look the most dramatic as it gets dark and the powerful rows of lights are switched on them, creating effects that you cannot see during the daytime hours. All in all, they were the best part of Carnavale, and each year new ones with different themes are created from scratch. A neat thing is after Carnavale, you see big chunks of floats in fields or in back lots all over town.

CARNAVALE IN SCIACCA

Carnavale is a little late this year. Since the resurfacing of the main piazza in town was not finished on time, this being the wettest winter in memory, it was decided to postpone the traditional pre-Lenten Carnival until after the job was done. And so this year we have a May 1 Carnavale, just in time for the strong late spring sunshine, and avoiding the February rainy season.
But of course, it rained last night and this morning and as near as I can figure, we got about 3 inches of rain and hail. There could have been some major damage to the floats! Luckily however, the first parade was last night and we got to see and take pictures of the floats and the costumes, so you get to see the 2005 edition of Sciacca Carnavale. But first, some of the costumes that went with the dancers on the floats, then our friends and their hairdos and costumes.
There were lots of cute little kids and the school floats. I was almost knocked over by a bunch of mothers for getting in the way of the protective rope around the youngest group while trying to take pictures! And there is a lot of “Hurry up and wait” on some of the kids’s faces. But the guy from Brazil in the ornate fruit costume is not really in drag, he just comes every year to show off the newest costumes. Speaking of costumes, there was a display of old costumes and ceramic floats in one of the art spaces in town, so those are there too.
We watched the parade for a long while from Ignatzia’s daughter’s store, so there is a picture of her and her grandchildren and daughter-in-law. And then there is her youngest grandson Marco and third youngest Vincenzo, not to be confused with summer neighbor’s Vincenzo and Giacomo, seen her with some friends on one of the floats. And Gaspare’s son Salvatore-some haircut, no? I noticed the haircut before I noticed it was Salvatore!
Tomorrow, the floats!