Daily Lessons...

 

 

 

 

August 23, 2008

Each day as we walk out of our apartment there is always the potential for new lessons to add to our learning curve; today’s Saturday market trip was such an event. We wandered in search of coverings for our front window and new pillow covers for our couch. The window covering allows us to see out but others cannot see in.

Slowly, we are getting with it regarding the Italian lifestyle. Recently I hung curtains that had been kindly left for our front door. That way, people who walk by can’t directly see in but we can see out. Also, last week we joined the Italians in adding flower boxes onto our front fenced area. This was done after we looked at pictures that Aurelie had taken when she lived here. It looked so pretty and welcoming and we had done nothing; we are losers when it comes to some things… So, now, to add to the door covering, I told Kim that I wanted curtains for our other dining room window which opens wide onto the court yard; anyone walking by can easily see in, whether they want to or not. All of this adds up to gay girls trying to manifest what comes naturally for gay boys. Sadly, it is not easy for us.

Recently some new folks moved into the upper floor just across the court yard. They often sit outside squatting, and from that upper floor they have a direct, bird’s eye view into our apartment. I am really a snob when it comes to them because I call them “The Clampets”. They tend to be very noisy at all hours and our closest neighbor complained to us about them last week. Some nights when I have been up late, unable to sleep, I hear them coming in, slamming the front main gate and talking loudly to one another. (Thank heavens for our fabulous Italian windows!) At other times, we hear loud arguments coming from all of their open windows and if they are being picked up by car, the driver lays on the horn blaring loudly to tell them to come.

They are not a big improvement over the folks that resided just before them. Those folks had a skinny, yippee dog that barked all hours of the day and night. As is my way, I dubbed it “Heroin Dog”. (I have to add a note re: Heroin Dog and her owner, a woman who also was extremely skinny with red long hair. The dog had a red coat, a long body, with long floppy ears. They looked so much alike, it was stunning). Those folks were asked to leave when their lease ended and the Clampets have now moved in.

As mentioned, it was time to find curtains similar to what we have covering our front door. The curtains are very sheer and, one can see out but others can’t see in; I tested this phenomenon and it is true. So, off we went to the market; me fighting a cold and sore throat but intent upon “doing something”. We found our curtains and couch pillows (la dee dah!) and set out to buy our bread, veggies, and as has become our Saturday custom, fresh fish.

There are a number of fish shops but they have big differences. Either the shop contains fish which is frozen and vacuum packed or it’s fresh, fresh, fresh. Not only do they sell fish but also shrimp, octopus, and other things that I honestly can’t identify. To date, we have bought salmon (salmone) twice, sturgeon (storione) once and today, sword fish, or “pesce spade”. The fish is always whole and when you ask for a piece, the worker (butcher/cutter) cuts off the slice(s) you request. Our fish today looked huge with its big head and sword attached. I communicated that I would like one ½” slice which given the size would make two very nice fillets—about a pounds worth. He cut the fish, weighed it, and let us know that the grand total was €25, or about $37.00. “Wow”, I said; “ummmm, grazie pero, no”. (Kim stood by looking incredulous as he then showed us the price tag which the fish had partially covered and I’d not even considered: it read, €60 per kilogram) and signed to us that “once cut, it’s yours”. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough money with us AND we’d left without our ATM card (they don’t take VISA). So, as we hemmed and hawed with embarrassment, I had the idea of giving them Kim’s driver’s license and told them we would go home and return with the money. They understood but the cashier kept pushing the wrapped fish at me and I slowly realized that he trusted us, wanted us to take the fish home to refrigerate, and come back when we could.

So off Kim and I went, weaving our way through the throngs of shoppers, trying hard not to blame the other for a) not reading the cost and b) leaving home without the ATM card which was sitting in my wallet on the counter. The mood didn’t last long as we quickly rationalized that if we were to go out for dinner we would easily spend more, a lot more. We just kept shaking our heads, saying, wow, it better be good.

Given my cold and my weakened state, Kim was kind enough to retrieve our money and return without me to settle our debt. Upon returning home, she told me about a delightful conversation with the men in the shop who having seen her driver’s license realized we were Americane, and now were all smiles. They wanted to know where we are from and had her point out Washington on a large map that hung over the counter. She felt like a connection had been made and our embarrassing mistake turned into an opportunity to connect on a friendlier level in the future.

Given that Saturday is “fish day” and is a bit expensive, it has become our special dinner night. I always try to make the fish as best I can with nice side dishes. Tonight as I prepared to oven grill the fish, I made a sauce with olive oil, lemon, fresh capers, garlic, a touch of red pepper flakes, and salt and pepper. On the side was rice and Italian peasant bread salad. As I was getting ready to prepare the fish (olive oil and salt and pepper) Kim looked at me and remarked, “just make sure you don’t screw it up, okay”?

It’s a damn good thing I knew she was kidding… or was she??