How I Cracked the Code on the "Isola" of Sicily

An excerpt from my upcoming memoir

Taormina, Sicily

Isola means island, a cognate of isolare, to isolate, to seclude, to shut off. Even though I now live on an island, I'd never made that connection, so obvious in Italian. Perhaps that is why I feel such a deep sense of isolation on the island of Sicily, where I feel so uncharacteristically like a foreigner. Unlike in the rest of Italy, where my much improved language skills, designer duds and attitude have most Italians fooled and greeting me as a local, Sicily is proving to be a surprising challenge.

Despite its superficial welcoming of tourists, Sicily remains a closed community, with its Greek influences and places that still remain war torn. It is an island with its own personality, uniqueness, eccentricities and limitations, things I am becoming familiar with on my own rock in the middle of the Pacific. Native Sicilians make sure that tourists understand who is in charge. Though every meal ends with an abundance of sweets, the irony is that that Sicilians are anything but dolce! Forte, tenacious and unwavering, traditional, self-protective and stoic, they must be explored with respect. It requires care to gingerly peel back each layer and expose the vulnerable and tender core—the essence of a Sicilian.