The Sicilian capital, Palermo, has a long history of cultural melding. Its new arrivals from Sri Lanka have embraced St. Rosalia.
by Emma Bubola, The New York Times, August 3, 2024
After they spread pink petals on golden statues of Ganesh and Shiva, and recited prayers to blue-skinned and eight-armed gods, the Hindu faithful left their temple and headed to a party for another one of their divinities — the Catholic St. Rosalia.
“To the other goddess!” said Swasthika Sasiyendran, 23, after she changed from her gold-and-white sari into a T-shirt bearing Rosalia’s face.
Every year, in the height of Sicily’s summer heat, Palermo fills with festival lights and honking scooters as people gather to celebrate Rosalia, the city’s patron saint. Among the hundreds of thousands who join the procession, which culminates with a towering statue of the saint being carried through the streets, are members of the city’s Sri Lankan Tamil community, some of Rosalia’s most ardent worshipers.
Palermo is prone to this kind of medley. It is a city that sits between continents, shaped by the overlapping of Greek, Byzantine, Arab, Norman and Spanish civilizations, which hundreds of years ago made it a cosmopolitan, open and refined metropolis.
In recent decades, Palermo has welcomed a new generation of immigrants, including thousands of Tamils, both Catholic and Hindu, who fled civil war and came to look for work, forming one of the biggest communities in Italy.
While segregation and discrimination remain in many quarters of the city, locals say Palermo has kept some of its tolerance and openness. The shabby and affordable city center has allowed foreigners to settle in, rather than being segregated in only the suburbs. The downtown Ballarò market has quickly absorbed stands selling plantains and cassava alongside those offering traditional fried chickpea patties and boiled octopus. Many groups promoting dialogue between cultures have sprung up.
“Santa Rosalia,” Ms. Sasiyendran said. “She welcomes everybody.”
Palermo’s Hindu Tamils, most of whom are originally from Sri Lanka, have added the Catholic saint to their colorful pantheon of gods. Many are attracted to her reputation for miracles, especially for saving the city from a plague in the 17th century. They are also drawn to her mystical sanctuary, a cave on a mount north of the city where she is said to have died after escaping an arranged marriage.
Most of the pilgrims who visited the cave on a recent Sunday were Tamils. In the shrines that many Tamils have in their homes, the image of Rosalia in a monk’s habit features alongside images of Hindu gods like Lakshmi, wrapped in golden necklaces, her legs crossed on top of a lotus flower.
“Santa Rosalia is like our mother,” said Tharsan Mahadevar, the secretary of the Hindu temple, as he sat eating lentils and a spicy vegetable curry while wearing a shiny sarong, the image of Ganesha tattooed on his arms and chest.
Like many other Tamils, Ms. Sasiyendran’s father, Sasi, came to Palermo in the 1990s from Sri Lanka, which was then ravaged by civil war. He did not have a Hindu temple in Palermo, or a place of worship to attend, except for the peaceful Santa Rosalia sanctuary atop Mount Pellegrino. Surrounded by umbrella pines, the site reminded him of the temples back home, hidden in the green mountains of northern Sri Lanka.
He and other lonely, scared men, including many Catholic Tamils, began calling Rosalia “Madonna,” a mother who welcomed them to Palermo. Three days after Ms. Sasiyendran’s mother traveled from South Asia to Palermo to marry her father, he took her to the sanctuary, which he had begun calling Mazhai Kovil Madha, or “Mountain Church Mary.”
Over the years, their Hindu temple was built, wedged between short buildings and bleached awnings near Palermo’s shipyards, but Mr. Sasiyendran continued turning to Rosalia for help and comfort.
When he died of a lung disease in 2022, he was holding a statue of the Madonna, his daughter said.
“I think he is with her now,” said his wife, Eswari Sasiyendran, as she stood in their apartment in Palermo, where a key holder decorated with Rosalia hung alongside a shrine with golden statues of Ganesh. Ms. Sasiyendran said she had resisted pleas from her family to leave Palermo and return home since she had been widowed.
She added: “Mother doesn’t see fair son or Black daughter. For her, everyone is equal.”
The Sasiyendran family credits the saint with an array of favors, including catching flights, finding forgotten bags and protecting their father when he was still sleeping on benches in Palermo’s parks. Many of the Tamils who climbed up the mountain on a recent morning — who were afforded a stunning view of Palermo in the rosy dawn light — also came with gratitude.
Kuganathan Kanagasingam, 54, said that when his wife had depression in 2022, he began walking up the mountain every Sunday at 5 a.m. — even in the pouring rain or scorching heat.
Alongside the cave hung baby shoes, ultrasound photographs and silver figurines of organs the saint had healed, among other votive paraphernalia.
Kiru Ponnampalam, 48, a Tamil cleaner, lit a red candle and placed it in front of Rosalia’s statue. He said he had been married for 10 years with no children until he began going to the sanctuary, when he finally managed to have a child, Abi, who is now 6.
“It was a miracle by Santa Rosalia,” he said.
Academics who have studied the community say that the Tamils’ devotion to Rosalia has provided a way to legitimize themselves and to be accepted by Sicilians.
“It was a way for them to become visible,” said Eugenio Giorgianni, an anthropologist at the University of Messina. “To enter the public space.”
Agostino Palazzotto, 62, an Italian volunteer at the sanctuary, watched on as a long line of Tamils climbed up the church’s stairs.
“I believe in the Santuzza,” he said, using a local nickname for the saint. “They believe in her A LOT.”
Polytheistic religions like Hinduism have the benefit of allowing for the continual incorporation of new gods. Pagan Romans venerated a mix of Greek, Egyptian and Persian gods, in addition to their own emperors.
A family of Tamil pilgrims, after wetting their hands with holy water from a spring in the sanctuary, went to change from their cotton dresses into elaborate red-and-gold saris before heading to the Hindu temple. Others soon joined them, some still wearing plastic Christian crosses.
That evening, they headed to Rosalia’s annual party, where they mixed with Sicilians, tourists, street vendors and loudspeakers blasting Italian summer hits. They watched the fireworks and admired Rosalia’s statue: Like the Hindu goddess Lakhsmi, she was wrapped in flower petals, a lily this time.
“I really don’t see that big of a difference,” said Dhanja Kirupakaran, 20 — who, according to her mother, was born because of a miracle by the saint.
Emma Bubola is a Times reporter based in Rome.