I was on a plane to Carlentini. in Sicily, An unscheduled trip.
Not part of the itinerary based on the Experiment of International Living.
Destination: The Sicilian friends of my hosts in Verona.
The stay in Verona had been a blast.
A warm, generous family.
The wife's mother lived with them. And during the day, we visited the square.
There was a wonderful relationship between mother and son.
Which didn't prevent her from always being aware of the guidance her son needed.
The couple had close friends with whom they visited any affair that was in town!
The husband took me for lunch with his friends who owned a vineyard.
Lunch was on the premises of the vineyard in the private dining room of the owners!
And his wife and friend took me with them to an exhibition in Venice - just a "hop and a skip away!
And then to the famous Harry's Bar.
But I finally got their goat. I was consumed with finding Mafia in Italy.
"Enough," they exploded. "The only way to get the Mafia out of your head is to
stay with our friends in Sicily."
So there I was flying to Carlentini, busy trying to figure out how I was going to
address the Mafia when I met them.
What is the correct etiquette of greeting a Mafia head? A cold nod? a low bow? A high-five?
I settled on what seemed the most appropriate.
"So, how's the FAMILY"
You can imagine my shock when i met the couple who were waiting for me at the airport.
Arturo looked like a young accountant!
His wife, Sophia, a bubbly delightful young woman!
No way resembling the family i bumped into at the airport at Rome waiting for my connection
The wife and two sons were dressed in black and attending very carefully to the father, who was
also dressed in black and had one ear cut off.
No mistake. The "real" thing!
After spending a night in the couple's apartment, we got into their car and together with their young son
drove to their orange grove and historic house they were converting into a tourist bed and breakfast.
in the car ride the accountant the story of how he inherited the money.
His father had run away to sea when he was 11.
When he was 17, he left the sea to make his fortune on land.
When he died, he left half of the monies to his other son who lived in a little town a few miles away.
The other son spent his part of the inheritance on travel.
My hosts spent their part of the inheritance investing in an orange grove and converting a historic
building into an income producing property. They were preparing to go into the tourist business.
There at the house were the couple's 12 friends waiting for them to help them convert the house.
Laughing and drinking and eating, they welcomed me with open arms!
But it didn't take long before I began asking about the Mafia.
Mario, the assistant to my host. Arturo, shrugged his shoulders.
"Listen, our Mafia operates under very strict rules.
They only kill you when you've broken the rules.
You in America, you kill in random."
Elementary, my dear Mario! Point well taken!
Then Mario told me a story.
Arturo's horse had been stolen.
Mario went to the police.
"Mario, you know we'd like to help you.
But we need hard evidence who did it.
Without that our hands our tied."
So Arturo went to the Mafia boss whom he knew
And the next day, the horse was returned.
I blurted out, "But Arturo, now you owe him a favor in return."
Arturo turned cold as stone.
"No way! I told him. 'If you want a favor, KILL THE DAMN HORSE!!!!!!!!!!'"
Postcript.
The horse is still living!
