February 19, 2010
In the great tradition of Catania, once a year poor breastless Sant Agata is released from her church prison to journey the streets of Catania and bless its crazy inhabitants. It's the Festival of Sant Agata. For three days this voyage continues, with music, fireworks, Catanese people dressed in long white tunics with little black hats shouting “Cittadini, Cittadini” at the tops of their dry, husky voices.
My flatmate told me in this tradition, the local people buy candles, sometimes as big as 100 kilo’s, and carry them as a devotion to Sant Agata, asking her to answer their prayers. The bigger the candle, the bigger the ask, hence the need for these 100 kilo whoppers. So, I bought a candle, albeit a poxy 2 Euro one, and I asked her for a man. Two weeks later and I’m still waiting.
Men in my life at this moment:
• The Butcher. 31 year old ex-boyfriend in Australia. Still having contact with me. Tells me he is in love with me and wants me to come back to Sydney. Meanwhile he has started a new relationship an tells me he is trying to get over me. Confusing?
• The Baker. 24 year old Catanese Boy. Briefly dated 4 months ago. Haven’t heard from him in 3 months. Called me to organise “private english lessons”.
• The Student. 30 year old Catanese Farmer. Also my student. He has given me the 20 questions about my life and has decided that we are perfect for each other. Now has invited me on a romantic daytrip to Etna with him on Sunday.
• The Man with the Dog. Age unknown. Works in a Mr-Fix-it shop. Cute, but I think he's gay.
So I am hoping Sant Agata is working hard to find me this guy. A good looking, normal guy with a job, stable income, education, family, car, possibly a house or an apartment.........does he exist? Where is he?!?!?!
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