My biggest regret about this part of the story is I lost the photos of the sweet men that greeted me to this gorgeous Sicilian town. A technological blip that i have overcome but not without frustration.
When I got off the bus I helped a nun with her bags. (Aww, nice Marianne, NOW i CAN do something bad) I was bent over getting her bags and mine, not paying attention at all to what and whom was in close proximity. When I turned and swung my backpack up on my back I nearly knocked over a little smiling blued eyed, grey haired man that was saying something to me. He actually had to step back a little to avoid being hit by my bag. I had no idea ABSOLUTELY no idea what he was saying. At first I was completely distracted by his white caterpillar of a mustache. It was thick and trim and white as typing paper. It was impossible to see any of his upper lip through it. His mouth was trimmed out like a hedge, square and clean. Wow, Incredible I thought It doesn't even move when he talks. I snapped out of it and considered the situaltion and thought- he looks friendly. Step two-What the hell is he saying. After arriving in the station in Vallelunga and suffering the chorus of angry woman, I now pay very close attention to how a town receives me. Perhaps I am assigning too much to a single thing but I have to say if I arrive somewhere and the first person I meet is nasty, I am gone.
It was impossible to ignore this man. He kept on following me and talking, despite not being understood. "Sorry sir I do not speak Italian." (Mi dispiace signor, non parlo Italiano) I reply. He spoke at the same incredibly quick cadence but now he was holding an pretend steering wheel and moving it from side to side. I knew he was saying something about a car and driving. "Oh Okay I know this game." Looks like a steering wheel. Looks like your driving. In your eyes it looks like you are taking me somewhere. NO, the answer sir is NO. Buona Giornata! I smile politely, turn on my heels and go on my merry way.
Here was my problem, My merry way is a little unclear at this point and my Italian is lousy. I have a cell phone and my cards to replenish it with minutes but I cannot understand a damn word that the automatic phone lady is saying. My cellphone is only taking up space, it has no service and no minutes. I have arrived in Noto with absolutely no idea how I am going to contact the farm. "I am not even going to worry about this." I think to myself. My plan was to go to a hotel, where often one can find someone that speaks English. If that did not work I was going to waddle with all my damn gear to a Tabacchi shop and buy a phone card for the public phones. I did not know what the cards were called but I know how to draw and I know how to play Italian charades. It was going to be fine.
I was off to find my way but I could not shake this little man. He continued to follow me and say something about having a car. In Italian or something that might resemble Italian to some, I say "Thank you sir, but i do not need a car." "But where to you go?" He asks me in Italian. "Don't worry about me sir. I will be okay." but it goes like this. "Sono Va Bene Signore. No mahkeena per io signor." I am okay sir. i am ok, no car for me sir.
I cross the street, noticing that now their are two happy men following, the same little guy but now he is with a friend. Okay I am outnumber but both seem friendly and it is broad daylight. I am still okay. The second has a phone in his hand. Also he knows absolutely no English but he keeps putting the phone up to his ear and dialing his imaginary phone in front of him, pointing to me, then gesturing as though he was going to hand me his phone. "Ah Okay. You want to call me?" I have no phone. "No cellulari. Mi Dispiace." "No NO" he replies and dials his imaginary phone again. Then he thumbs through an imaginary book, flips the page and points as though he has found something, raised his eye brows, puts his imaginary book down, then looks at me with soft eyes as if to say. "Do you get it now.". "AH, you are going to call my people." I say out loud. Who cares at this point no one know what I am saying. I could have said anything. Bottom line-How cute these two are.
I dig out the number and he does exactly that. He calls the farm and tells them that a Ragazza is waiting, (a girl) is all I understood. I leaned up against that and made nice with the idea of being a girl to someone, and listened. I figured out that I was to wait where I was. I was going to be collected by someone sometime soon. I waited. He waited with me. Asked if I wanted a Coke. I said no. Then if I wanted a coffee. I said no. Asked if I wanted water. I said no. Of course I would not minded having all three, but I did not want to give him the wrong idea.
I wanted to ask how long it would be for my ride but I did not know how. I sat down in a chair and just waited listening to him say what I thought might be an offer to go for a ride while I was in Noto. He drew a pen from his man bag and wrote down his number on the top of my notebook, gave me his toothless grin, told me his name, shook my hand and said "Bellissima"
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