Piana degli Albanesi

Discovering Italian roots in an unlikely place

People often think I’m Italian. I’m not. I appreciate the assumption, however, at least when I’m in Italy. Last fall, when I was visiting the Balestrate Cemetery on All Soul’s Day, an older local woman asked me about my family, assuming some were buried there. I told her about my grandfather, Lino Polo, who had immigrated from Milan as a child. Lino was my grandmother’s second husband, so I have no blood line, but it’s nice to claim him as my Italian connection.

Now, to my delight, I have another one, and this one is Sicilian.

Tom and I returned to Sicily on April 26^th. Hoping to finally stay in our house, our first order of business was buying a mattress and a new water heater. Spoiler alert: we did! But I’ll tell you about that later.

The first of May is International Workers’ Day, celebrated around the world in 160 countries. In Italy it’s a big deal, technically known as "La Festa dei Lavoratori" with events and parades happening in many local areas. In the northwest region of Sicily, maybe the most important event happens just forty minutes from Palermo, nestled in the mountains, in Piana degli Albanesi.

The locals call the town Hora e Arbëreshëvet, which means “City of the Albanians”, which makes sense since in 1487, Christian Albanians fleeing the Balkans during the Ottoman Turkish conquest settled here and here they have remained.  Outside of the local designation, it existed under different names during the centuries and only assumed its current name in 1941. A few years later, one of the most violent acts in Sicilian politics occurred just outside the town.

On May 1, 1947, hundreds of peasants from Piana degli Albanesi and other neighboring towns gathered at Portella della Ginestra to celebrate workers and listen to speeches, just as they had in previous years. Twelve days earlier, the Communist party had won the regional elections. At 10:15am, just as a Communist leader began his address, bullets from machine guns pierced the crowd. Eleven people were killed, four of them children, and 27 were wounded. While the separatist leader Salvatore Giuliano took responsibility for this massacre, it is now widely believed to have been organized by the Mafia.

Joining others to commemorate this brutal attack seemed like a good way to honor May Day. It also gave us an opportunity to visit the ancestral town of my cousin.

Mary married into our family of German Lutherans almost forty-one years ago. Her maiden name is Fabian but the family name was originally Fabiano. And yes, they come from Piana degli Albanesi. There’s another connection, however, that surprised us even more.

We didn’t make it in time for the memorial gathering or the parade in town, partially because we got a late start and partially because the drive into the mountains was so beautiful. I say this a lot while driving around Sicily and this time I mean it four-fold. Breathtaking.

So, by the time we got to town, it was quiet. It was 1:30pm and, in case you didn’t know this, pretty much everything in Italy closes down between 1:00 and 4:00pm. In this case, it allowed us to wander without noise or fighting crowds. What we saw was absolutely enchanting. There are many alpine elements mixed into the buildings, reminding me of my own German heritage. Now, I know nothing about Albania except that it is situated to the west of Greece, across the Adriatic Sea from Italy. At some point, I’ll find out how the alpine accents worked their way into this village. Maybe you know?

Eventually we stopped for a coffee and cannoli. Sicilian cannoli are the best in the world (Sicilians will tell you it’s due to the southern spring grass and happy goats) and La Casa del Cannolo is said to make the best of the best.

I sent this photo to Mary and she responded immediately. Yes, the Fabianos come from Piana degli Albanesi. But here’s the unexpected twist: it turns out we had just enjoyed a cannolo from her cousin’s shop. Indeed, the Cuccia family is related to her own.

Small world. And while Mary and I may not be related by blood, it’s pretty nice to have another connection to this island that feels like home.

The video is less than 4 minutes long. I hope you’ll take a look!

my cousin, Wayne, his wife, Mary, me, Tom, Mazie & her two pups (adopted by my cousins)