Palermo, like Sicily itself, feels deeply contradictory to me. It is both very loud and completely quiet at the same time.
Right now, it is evening. I am surrounded by pigeons and seagulls. Outside, only Federico, my neighbor from the barbershop, is smoking a cigarette while waiting for his next customer. Yet I know that at midnight there will be fireworks. I cannot tell you exactly why. I have heard many explanations and eventually settled on the simplest one: people are happy, so they set off fireworks at midnight. Almost every day.
At seven in the morning, the warehouses of Ballarò Market begin to open, becoming my first brief alarm clock of the day. Then everything quiets down again until about nine, when what tourists are often sold as the “Sicilian vibe” begins: the noise of the market, music, vendors singing, and abbanniate — the loud calls inviting you to buy something. Here, people still sell their goods with many of the same words they used a hundred years ago.
The main streets, of course, can remain lively until five in the morning, and I would not want to live there. Yet those central streets connect to hundreds of small side streets where it is easy to disappear from the noise of the city.
Sicily knows how to be silent, and Sicily knows how to sing loudly. The city is filled with bustling markets and bars, balanced by beautiful quiet parks and squares with centuries-old ficus trees and utterly silent turtles.
Life in Palermo is certainly a celebration, and it is best to be prepared for that. But this is also a city where you can always find quiet streets and peaceful neighborhoods, whether you are looking for a good night’s sleep or simply a moment alone with yourself.
