sicily is another world. it is beautiful and slow and hot. we are at kate's aunt's house in the country. the floors are tiled and the doors are always open. everyone lolls around in sandals and minimal clothing, walking down country paths to the pool, playing with dogs and smoking cigarettes and drinking wine in the middle of the day. every bottle of wine is made by someone's girlfriend's cousin. and it never stops coming. her uncle speaks no english but repeatedly asks me vino bianca? and i nod and my glass fills up again and again and again, blurring the afternoon into the evening, when we eat and drink more. lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 9. everyone eats together. her aunt and uncle and kate and i and any number of their 4 children and their wives/ girlfriends/ boyfriends. the table is set with a tablecloth and colorful ceramic plates and full sets of silverware and carafes of wine and we eat until we cannot eat anymore. first pasta and then meat or homegrown eggplant and fresh baguettes with vinegar and then fruit and slightly sweet pastries and espressos and her aunt always asking if you would like some more?
they speak in italian and i watch their hands and listen for words i can understand. sometimes kate translates. sometimes we blather to each other in english. sometimes i float away from the conversations entirely, happily secluded in my little world of english. i have learned to count to ten, to say hello, goodnight, nice to meet you! great idea! how are you? come here, i love you, i need a drink, my name is beth, where is the toilet? and what the fuck do you want?
we spent sunday on a houseboat, monday at the beach, and on tuesday we took the ferry to favignana, a little island of the northwest coast of sicily. it is unbelievably beautiful. crystal clear water and rocky beaches and weathered little buildings and crazy cobblestone roads and laundry hanging from every window. just a cluster of stores and restaurants and markets that sell only alcohol, cheese, every shape of pasta, and tuna cans over a foot in diameter. the houses open right into the streets and their shuttered doors are often open, allowing glimpses of the old couples within, sweeping floors and watching tv in the afternoon. we rented bikes and went from beach to beach, climbing down cliffs to perch on rocks by the water, breezing around in thin cotton dresses, getting sunburned, drinking wine all day, eating the freshest pasta and cheeses and breads. we stayed in a sweet little bungalow on a camping site that had a kitchen and a living room and an enormous porch with sun chairs. we played cards and were drunk and pink and carefree and laughed so much my stomach hurt for days.
the second day we awoke to the most violent storm i've ever witnessed. we sat on the porch and watched the rain, which eventually left us without electricity or running water. we took our bikes out anyway and rode into the city center, drowning in the puddles and the wet flimsy cotton of our dresses. it was decided whiskey would keep us warm and so we were drunk in the middle of the day, then napped off the cold and alcohol. later we met our neighbors, paulina from mexico and jonas from germany. they are married and live in italy. we talked across our porches for hours about the oddities and excitements of traveling, about jobs and passions and family, about wine and weather and home. and then we went out to dinner together. a strange little collection of people, eating pasta late late at night on an island street, laughing and sharing stories. we had gelato and went out for drinks later and had such a time. kate and i laughed and were weird and i looked at her and loved everything about her. the fact that she can speak another language with such ease. that she makes plates of cheese and fruit for me to eat on the bed. that she understands my needs and worries and my heart. that she is funny and thoughtful and smart and insanely beautiful. that she can answer my questions about animals and the ocean. that she commends me on overcoming my fear of the water and swimming where i cannot touch the ground. that i can be near her for so many days without a minute apart and not ever feel like being without her.
she just patted my knee and told me she loved me.
it feels good to be loved.
the third day it was sunny again and there was more of biking and beaches and drinking and laughing. we ate grapes and watched a boat sink. we swam topless in a private little cove while the sun set. we made pasta and ate on our porch and collected stray kittens and made a home.
i feel blissful and relaxed and amazing.
i am home in just over a week. today i will not muse upon how it will be, how i will feel, how i feel about myself now. i am in sicily and there is wine to be had and figs to pluck from trees and my kate to love. i will be home soon enough and there will be plenty of time for thinking then.
and so it goes.
