Walking where I've been before

Palermo

Many lifetimes and almost three years ago, I came to Palermo for the first time. I stayed only a few days. I was en route to Morocco, and I just wanted to stop by the island: this place where I was from, but did not yet know. I could not have foreseen that one day I would be living here.

I don’t remember too much about those hours. I remember sitting by the sea reading Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, looking at the boats and thinking of my family, who from here boarded a ship to go to the United States. I remember the flea market at Piazza Marina, and walking in the Giardino Garibaldi. I remember being enamored with la Kalsa, the neighborhood where I was staying. I remember getting lost in the streets which had seemed like a maze, owing to the neighborhood’s Arabic origin. The thing I remember most though, was standing on the balcony of my room in the evenings, the street full of sound and life - neighbors shouting across the way, the laundry hanging to dry, the smells of garlic and oil simmering on the stove. And of feeling that we were all so close, that we could reach across our balconies and practically embrace.

I was telling this story to my friend the other day as we were walking through la Kalsa. Only once since that first trip had I again come across the backstreet that I stayed in that first time, and it was totally by accident. On this day, however, I knew we must have been close by, and I wanted to show my friend where I had stayed. I was telling her about just how close these balconies were when we found the street. For a moment, we were both quiet. Because this passageway - this tiny alley I had been going on about - seemed to the both of us to actually be quite wide.

I’ve since settled in a different district in the centro storico, the historic center of the city. My balcony also leads onto a small alley, which is bustling at any given time of day. Now, to me, this is usual. We are not so close that we could pass a cup of sugar, but we could definitely toss a bag of it from one balcony to the other. When my friend and I came across this street, it was more like a courtyard.

I could only say, “Wow.” And then we both began to laugh.

It’s amazing how our perspectives can change. On my first visit, I could never have imagined living so close to my neighbors. Now, I live even closer. And the best part is?

It feels like home.

love,

greer