Per usual, Jess and I spent our last afternoon upstairs sunbathing and chatting on the upper terrace with our adopted Italian grandmother. I could cry she is so gracious and adorable. She was in Milan visiting her children when I arrived in Sicily and Jess daily mourned for her return. Nonna and Nonno have been back in Motta for only a few days now and I already feel like I've known them for years. Nonna ("grandmother" as she has demanded Jess call her) speaks to us as if we are capable of a fluent Italian exchange. I have been able to understand a good portion of what Nonna relays to us, though, and have been able to communicate far more than I originally thought I'd be able to, which is fun and exciting for me:) Nonna bustles about to bring out the "cuscini" (cushions) for us, serves us shots of espresso, and we chat and plan our prospective return to Sicily next summer and my trip to her home in Milan this fall. She plants one thousand little kisses on each of our cheeks and tells us how tan and beautiful we are, all before we are allowed to leave.
View from Nonna's upper terrace. In the distance you can just make out Etna's silhouette.
Nonna, me, and Nonno
Noi amiamo la nostra nonna dulce :)
Nonna reminds me so much of my Spanish host madre (except probably less bossy) from when I studied in Salamanca, which makes me very nostalgic. In my opinion, everyone could use an Italian "nonna" or Spanish "abuelita" in their lives. I firmly believe that a nonna revolution would cut down on crime and even terrorism worldwide. This entire town is full of little old cuties really, and Jess and I certainly have our favorites--like Ciccio (Chee-choh) at the convenience store. He thinks he's such a lady's man; but then again, he is.
This time tomorrow I will be eating dinner with my new Roman family in my home for the next three months. Ciao Sicilia, let the adventure begin!