On my way back to Spain from Sicily I had to stay a night in Palermo to catch an “early” flight from Trapani. So I got to Palermo, found my hostel, and asked for a good place to eat. The guy at the hostel took me to the window and pointed out a place just across the street and down the block a little. I thought it would be like most of the places I was in in Messina, where there would be a bar of food and I would be able to point instead of relying on my non-existent Italian to order food from a menu; I was mistaken. No big deal, I sit down at a table by myself; there’s only one other occupied table in the whole place, a group of 3. I look at the menu; I wanted pasta but I didn’t have a clue what kind of pasta they had other than pasta and I had been told they had good pizza, so I went for that. Once again, understanding very little of what comes on each of these specialty pizzas, and not wanting to spend a lot of money, I choose one of the cheaper ones that I understand to have olives, along with tomato sauce, and a few other things on it. After ordering, I notice the guy who seems to be the head of the group at the other table gesturing to the free seat at the table and saying something to me in Italian. I reply in my broken Italian: “Io non so italiano” - I don’t know Italian. He waves his hand like it doesn’t matter and says “Te invito.” These words I did understand, and not wanting to be rude or eat alone, I moved to the other table.
Gian Vito, the head of the group was the one who invited me to sit with them. He was a bigger guy, wore lots of jewelry, but dressy casual, very confident and in charge of things, he had something about him that made you think it was better not to say no , and everyone seemed to love him. He frequently stepped outside of the restaurant to take calls on his cell phone, he was very popular. Daniela was the girl in the group, from Germany, but had been living in Italy for 8 years. Alberto was the third, married with 2 year old son. Daniela and Alberto spoke a little English and between that and my little Italian we managed to converse.
I had only ordered my pizza and a drink, but they had some bruschetta and a plate of meats and cheeses for an appetizer. Gian Vito offered me some of the food, I tried to politely decline, he insisted. The bruschetta was delicious. I took a piece of salami and prosciutto and an olive from the meats and cheese plate, but Gian Vito told Daniela to put more on my plate, including cheese. I ate it, all of it, trying not to be rude. One of Jair’s friends had asked me if it was socially acceptable to refuse things when people offer them to you in America. I do it all of the time, so I suppose so; but it made me realize that it’s a little different here.
Finally the pizza came. Surprise! Crust with tomato sauce, olives, onions, and anchovies, no cheese. I’ve noticed that Italians love onions on their pizza, and anchovies on some; I should have known better. But I ate it, and it wasn’t bad. The others each had a different pizza, and everyone said it was very good pizza. I was amused by the fact that Gian Vito, the very Italian, macho Gian Vito was eating a pizza that essentially consisted of cheese and pepperoni- how American.
We all finished the pizzas and then Gian Vito ordered us all something. They tried explaining it to me; but I didn’t understand. Finally, 2 plates of cherries came out; fruit serves for two things in Spain, and Italy it seems as well: dessert and its good for digestion. We sat around and talked a little bit. Gian Vito went to another table to talk with one of the employees that he knew. When he came back, the other two got up from the table and were ready to leave. It occurred to me that he had paid… for all of us. I tried to offer him money, he refused. So in my very poor Italian, I said “Mille grazie”- A thousand thanks. He invited me to go with them for a drink, but I declined, reminding them of my early bus, and this time I was allowed to refuse the offer. We said good-bye with handshakes and kissed on the cheeks, Italian style, left cheek first, and they wished me a say trip and good luck with everything.
It turned out to be a good night, interesting company to say the least. Along with the small talk conversation I received two compliments: that I was beautiful, decided by Gian Vito and Daniela; and that I spoke good Italian, according to Gian Vito….this makes me second guess the people who said I spoke good Spanish…. :/
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