Travel, Sicily, food, culture, wanderlust

After hours of wandering the streets of Palermo, tired and hungry, my friend and I find a small street with an even smaller restaurant. The tables are on the street, they are old, wooden, with red plaid tablecloths. Our waiter is a charming, thin Sicilian who kindly tells my friend that you only drink cappuccino for breakfast. After noon, you should order espresso.

"Can I take your orders now, ragazza?" When I tell him I would like the sea food salad, his face lights up. He grabs my hand and energetically takes me inside the restaurant. "Excellent! Magnificent! Choose, bellissima, choose! They are all fresh!" He suddenly grabs my hand again and takes me outside. He smiles and points to a drowsy, weary old man. The man's face is wrinkly, tanned, he is smoking a cigarette and when he sees the waiter pointing to him, he spits and smiles back at us. "This is the fisherman", my waiter tells me, "He just brought that fish in. It is delicious!"

"Smart girl. Excellent fish", the waiter grinnes. He did not lie. The fish tastes heavenly. Happy and full, my friend and I continue walking down the streets of Palermo. In another small street, we encounter a fight.

Around six men, the youngest being in his teens and the oldest being in his sixties are yelling and pushing eachother in this narrow alley. They shout with a heavy Sicilian accent and I can grasp some words such as "weakling" and "coward". Suddenly, I feel someone's hands on my shoulder. Two men in their twenties pull us back and explain that when Sicilian men fight, women should not interfere. Realising we are foreigners, they offer us a drink and some insight in the infamous Sicilian temper.

One of them was born and raised in Palermo, and the other is from Lipari, a small island near Sicily. He orders us Malvasia, an unusual wine indigenous to his island. They continue talking about Sicilian pride, honour and fistfights. We learn that in Sicily, men believe they should always protect the women. Not because women are the weaker sex. But because women are mothers, the heart of the family and they are always right. "A woman's word is stronger than a man's. Always", our new friend tells us.

Walking back to our hotel, we pass a small pastry shop. An elderly man walks out and asks us to wait a minute. Confused, we oblige. He goes back in and in a couple of minutes returns with two cannoli for us. "For you girls", he smiles. "Women should always be cherished."