Scene Two – part one Piccolo Palermo, night CHORUS OF SICILIAN WOMEN (CATARINA, TIA, and MAMA enter during chorus): Waiting by the doors Waiting by the docks The men come back And we wrap our arms around them Like branches of the great chestnut trees. In their necks, in their hair, we smell… home – The tang of the orange and almond trees The dusty winds of the Sirocco And the heat that boils inside our volcanoes. We wait for our men and our home to come back. Oppression sent us to find a better life But the past trails us like a sticky shadow Every day violence sweeps over us And fear sits at every dinner table Where is La bonta, la gentilezza? In this new world, our men can only find it in the warm circles of our arms. Enter IANIA Iania:
Catarina? Mama? Have you seen Manni tonight?
Mama:
No, mia cara. Sleep, child. She and TIA exit
Catarina:
I told you he’s no good. He stinks of the old world. He’s crazy and volatile. We are Americans now and when you are with him, you hold this family back.
Iania:
You are wrong, sorella You are a coward. You are ashamed of la Patria, But we did not come here out of shame. Our beloved homeland was falling into holes of poverty and revolt. Safety and opportunity brought us here. We can be Americans and Sicilians.
My heart chooses both. Catarina scoffs and leaves But at night I’m afraid This city does not shield us And opportunity is like a phantom While the padrones sharpen their knives with lies. Manni moves with his mind in a storm That I cannot quell. But his heart is as big as the gulf, And his eyes shine like a Mediterranean morning And we tether to one another With ropes of kindness and love.