Saratoga News Cactus patches once spoke of Trabia Carl Heintze Recently I heard about a small Mayan town in Central America that's built a beachhead in Houston. It's a classic story of immigration. Led by a pioneer immigrant, the town has over the years exported hundreds of its residents to Houston. There they've formed a colony, a sort of reincarnation of where they came from, all living in the same part of Houston, all keeping in touch with one another and with where they came from. Over the years, a sizable part of the Mayan village has come to Texas. Most of them work for the same food market. They all work very hard, according to their employers, who cherish them. Moreover, they've all saved their money; they've bought houses and cars and are prospering. Their children speak English, but a lot of the parents do with Spanish and an understanding, but not a mastery of English. All are citizens and legal, though recent immigration has been curtailed by changes in immigration law. But the tie between the old and new villages remains, as does the work ethic and the customs and traditions. All this, of course, is a classic American story of immigrants--and a recent one. It's been duplicated by thousands of other places in dozens of other countries from Norway to Ethiopia. The pioneers come to the U.S., settle down, send back to the old home town for support, bring more of their kind, form a colony and gradually melt into the American melting pot. But even though this particular immigration story is a new one, it reminds me of one not so recent, that of the village of Trabia. Trabia is a little place not far from Palermo, Sicily. Back in the 19th century, the first immigrants from Trabia came to Santa Clara County. They weren't large in number, but they were hard working. What's more, it was a tradition in the village that the eldest son or daughter in the family would become a doctor or a pharmacist. And that's what happened in Santa Clara County. A whole generation of doctors of Italian descent here owe their profession to the fact that their hard-working parents came from Trabia. Those who didn't make it to medical school became pharmacists or funeral directors. There was another sort of tradition in the town, the raising of cactus. The cactus was grown, there and elsewhere in Sicily as a delicacy. It was harvested, divested of its spines and hard outer skin and pickled and preserved. Out of this tradition came the beginnings of some of the great canning companies that once employed hundreds of people here. Most are now gone or have moved elsewhere. And the cactus patches that originally started it all are pretty much gone, too. But like the doctors, pharmacists and funeral directors, the canners all prospered and became leading Santa Clara County citizens. There are now probably more people in Santa Clara County who are descendants of Trabian immigrants than there are residents in Trabia itself. For a time, the first settlers clung together. There was a Trabia Club that met to remember the old days and places in Sicily and to hold the tradition together. It existed for a long time. Maybe it still does. I'm not sure, but I do remember when a former resident of the city passed on, newspapers always mentioned that he or she was a member of the club. I don't see that in obituaries anymore, mostly, I suppose, because all the original Trabian immigrants have passed on, but also because their descendants have become diffused through California and elsewhere in the United States. As is likely to happen with the Mayans, many will never go back where they came from, even for a visit. Some descendants of Trabia may not even be sure where Trabia is anymore. But I like to think they remember it still and the influence it has had on the place in the New World where they elected to settle. I like to think of the story of Trabia (and of the Mayans in Houston) as the finest example of what immigration to the United States means. They came, they saw, they prospered, and their example was an example to us all. [ Back to Contents Page | Saratoga News Home Page | Archives ] This article appeared in the Saratoga News, December 9, 1998. ©1998 Metro Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.