How hard can taking a shower be! Seriously! Just how hard can it be! In Florence, trust me, if you are not among the lucky few, its an exercise in deftness and managing soaping, shampooing, conditioning, scrubbing etc with your elbows almost stuck to your sides. Bending down to reach your toes (yes! It is humanly possibly to do an almost 180 degree bend for some people, including yours truly) means a definitive bump against one of the walls or the shower door or curtain, depending which side you are facing. Picking up a shampoo / conditioner / body wash bottle off the floor is quite the same thing. If you decide to leave them outside and keep grabbing them as and when needed simply means wet splashes that then need to be mopped once you are done showering. But then, what is the point of showering if right after you end up cleaning and then have to wash your hands all over again! Damn! Am I spoilt? I think not. I think I am used to living ‘properly’ with space for things where it should be.
Well well! I know that the use of the word ‘proper’ is open to debate and many might argue that this is just my view of what proper should be. But then I am not contesting that this IS MY view of what I think should be proper. Also I simply don’t understand how people manage to stay clean, fuzz free and scrubbed head to toe in such small places. Last I checked the average size of human beings here is bigger than the average size of human being back home. Anyway! I am sure I will figure a way to manage this space.
What I am having a wee bit more of an issue with is the fact that drinking a cappuccino or café latte post 10 am (i.e. breakfast time) is a strictly ‘not done’ thing here. Wow! At first that’s what I thought. Followed immediately by ‘shit! You’ve got to be kidding me?’ My sweet colleagues and now friends Maria and Sussana shook their heads with that look on their faces that said “I’m afraid that’s what it is.’ They then went on to narrate a long list of other food “no-no’s” and “must not do’s” and at the end of it I was rather bewildered. But before I could question them any further I was even more bewildered by what the lady at the restaurant we were having lunch at had served me.
THERE WAS FRESH RAW TUNA ON MY PLATE!!!
Yes! Fresh raw tuna. I told my self not to react. Not to make a face. And not to call that lady who refused to speak to me in English (chances are she probably only knew a few sentences of it anyway!) I took a deep breath and bravely rolled a piece of that offensive looking food along with the spaghetti on my plate and shoveled it into my mouth. I DID NOT LIKE THAT RAW TUNA!!! I bravely tried it again. Still my taste buds yelled right back at me saying “NO!!!”
Not wanting to make a scene and in the interest of time, given we were out for lunch during the official lunch break, and unlike what most people think people at the UN do have work and they do not take endlessly long lunch breaks, even on Fridays, I decided to do the next best thing. I pushed all that raw meat aside and just ate the spaghetti telling my self over and over again to never say “Si! Fresco” if anyone ever asked me again if I’d like the tuna fresh. I mean, who on earth would have said no to the word ‘fresh’. I wanted to tell the lady to say “raw’ the next time she asked any customer that. Anyway, I then did what I thought would adequately cheese her off. I asked for a latte at the end of my lunch. So there! I still paid 11 euros for a lunch I hated but what the hell. Now I know what words to watch out for. God forbid if I had ended up saying “Si! Fresco” after having ordered pasta with sun dried tomatoes and ham or chicken in it! Yuck!
I am still very upset about the no can do rules on coffee though. I know I have to live in the country for a long time and I must try and adapt but I am now wonder to what all must I adapt to. Tiny showers. Check. Only Italian displaying ATM machines that don’t make any sense to you. Check. Phone services that don’t have a word of English in their dictionary. Check. All food at the supermarkets labeled in Italian. Check. Not knowing which bottle of milk is full cream and which one is skim. Check. Not knowing what exactly are you picking up from the wine shelf (apart from the colour) till you taste it. Check. Picking up frizzed wine and sparkling water by mistake. Check. Trial by error for everything. Check. At least let me have my coffee in peace.
But then, when its me, it has to be a wee bit awry right. What are the chances that a coffee lover like me, who spent more money every month on coffee than on drinks or eating out every month in Bombay, will end up in the land of coffee and end up being daunted by rules about drinking coffee. Wow! That’s when you say wow! And sometimes say “fuck!” out loud and sometimes just laugh out loud and most other times just shrug your shoulders and smile and ask for a freaking café latte anyway. I think I can get used to the raised eyebrows. Getting used to raised eyebrows when asking for a café latte in the afternoon starting now… Check!
Ciao my lovelies…
More updates from these coordinates of the globe soon.
Well well! I know that the use of the word ‘proper’ is open to debate and many might argue that this is just my view of what proper should be. But then I am not contesting that this IS MY view of what I think should be proper. Also I simply don’t understand how people manage to stay clean, fuzz free and scrubbed head to toe in such small places. Last I checked the average size of human beings here is bigger than the average size of human being back home. Anyway! I am sure I will figure a way to manage this space.
What I am having a wee bit more of an issue with is the fact that drinking a cappuccino or café latte post 10 am (i.e. breakfast time) is a strictly ‘not done’ thing here. Wow! At first that’s what I thought. Followed immediately by ‘shit! You’ve got to be kidding me?’ My sweet colleagues and now friends Maria and Sussana shook their heads with that look on their faces that said “I’m afraid that’s what it is.’ They then went on to narrate a long list of other food “no-no’s” and “must not do’s” and at the end of it I was rather bewildered. But before I could question them any further I was even more bewildered by what the lady at the restaurant we were having lunch at had served me.
THERE WAS FRESH RAW TUNA ON MY PLATE!!!
Yes! Fresh raw tuna. I told my self not to react. Not to make a face. And not to call that lady who refused to speak to me in English (chances are she probably only knew a few sentences of it anyway!) I took a deep breath and bravely rolled a piece of that offensive looking food along with the spaghetti on my plate and shoveled it into my mouth. I DID NOT LIKE THAT RAW TUNA!!! I bravely tried it again. Still my taste buds yelled right back at me saying “NO!!!”
Not wanting to make a scene and in the interest of time, given we were out for lunch during the official lunch break, and unlike what most people think people at the UN do have work and they do not take endlessly long lunch breaks, even on Fridays, I decided to do the next best thing. I pushed all that raw meat aside and just ate the spaghetti telling my self over and over again to never say “Si! Fresco” if anyone ever asked me again if I’d like the tuna fresh. I mean, who on earth would have said no to the word ‘fresh’. I wanted to tell the lady to say “raw’ the next time she asked any customer that. Anyway, I then did what I thought would adequately cheese her off. I asked for a latte at the end of my lunch. So there! I still paid 11 euros for a lunch I hated but what the hell. Now I know what words to watch out for. God forbid if I had ended up saying “Si! Fresco” after having ordered pasta with sun dried tomatoes and ham or chicken in it! Yuck!
I am still very upset about the no can do rules on coffee though. I know I have to live in the country for a long time and I must try and adapt but I am now wonder to what all must I adapt to. Tiny showers. Check. Only Italian displaying ATM machines that don’t make any sense to you. Check. Phone services that don’t have a word of English in their dictionary. Check. All food at the supermarkets labeled in Italian. Check. Not knowing which bottle of milk is full cream and which one is skim. Check. Not knowing what exactly are you picking up from the wine shelf (apart from the colour) till you taste it. Check. Picking up frizzed wine and sparkling water by mistake. Check. Trial by error for everything. Check. At least let me have my coffee in peace.
But then, when its me, it has to be a wee bit awry right. What are the chances that a coffee lover like me, who spent more money every month on coffee than on drinks or eating out every month in Bombay, will end up in the land of coffee and end up being daunted by rules about drinking coffee. Wow! That’s when you say wow! And sometimes say “fuck!” out loud and sometimes just laugh out loud and most other times just shrug your shoulders and smile and ask for a freaking café latte anyway. I think I can get used to the raised eyebrows. Getting used to raised eyebrows when asking for a café latte in the afternoon starting now… Check!
Ciao my lovelies…
More updates from these coordinates of the globe soon.
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