Mamma called me and asked me to come to dinner in the evening. It wasn't going to be a blowout extravaganza like a few days earlier, but Francesca and Chiara were coming over again from the mainland. I said I would love to, but only if she let me do the majority of the cooking. Once a week for the family is enough for her. She agreed and I said I would come over at 5 with everything.
I met up with Kathleen the Australian at the appointed time and place for lunch and we had a great time. She told me about her daily life in the UN compound as a contracotr in Chad - ugh - I don't wish that on anyone. She decided on her vacation to spend two weeks learning French in Paris, so she could be understood by those locals that deigned talk to a woman. Even locals working within the confines of a UN-run setting still don't feel they have to take direction from a woman, but she thought it might soften the blow to their egos if she spoke the same language (and hoping that French-French would be more commanding than Chadian-French.) This is a woman who spent a decade in the Australian army, eventually gaining status as an officer, and has worked around the world on postings as a logistics manager on every continent except North America. Good job, lady!
La Zucca is primarily a vegetarian restaurant, but over the years they have started bringing in meaty dishes to please all clientele. I chose to have an all-pumpkin meal, since it's October. Pumpkin soup, roasted pumpkin risotto, pumpkin lasagne, pumpkin flan. Heaven! I may turn orange. Kathleen joined me on the soup and risotto, but instead had a roasted chicken dish, and a tiramisu for dessert. Mmm... good times.
I made it out to the Rialto market before they closed up to grab some fish fillets for dinner and fava beans, basil, parsley and tomatoes. I stopped at the Co-op market for fusilli pasta, asiago and parmesan cheese. Called Marco at work and told him I was making dinner for his family and to be there by 7 - and bring dessert with him if he knew what was good for him! Something got lost in translation because he had no idea what I was talking about. Dolce, Marco, just bring dolce.
My menu was simple and light - fish fillets with parsley and herbs cooked in foil packets with the fava beans (but no Chianti and no Dr Lechter.) There was also a warm fusilli dish with the cheeses, tomatoes and basil. Marco brought home frutti di bosco gelato, fruits of the forest - mixed berries. My favorite fruit-flavored gelato. did they look at me funny when I wanted to take a picture of the dishes? Yep, but they like me anyway.
A good time was had by all and it was easy clean up. We watched a program on tv about the history of Roman army and Trajan's conquest of Dacia (modern day Serbia/Hungary/Bulgaria/Romania.) I could follow along because I'd seen it before on the History Channel. It's part of a series that uses video game technology to show the armies fighting. Pretty cool stuff.
I made it back to my apartment on the other end of town by 11pm. On the way home from the waterbus I was accosted by one of my neighbors, a guy who introduced himself as DiDi from Senegal. He is one of the immigrants that sell the knock-off Prada handbags on the street. They are known by the locals as 'vous-comprai' because they are always asking "would you like to buy?" in multiple languages to the tourists;the original immigrants were french-speaking Algerians. The immigrants come from all over Africa these days. They are usually undocumented and are put up in flats by the shady businesses that help smuggle them into the country for this work. I had seen him in the neighborhood with his roommates a few times. I have to sit in the doorway on the steps to make phonecalls at my place, as there's no phone reception inside unless I stand on a chair in front of the bedroom window. The stoop is the place to be, except the neighbors look at me funny because I'm always sitting on a blanket in the doorway with no shoes on. It's unseemly, I guess.
Didi asked me to stop and talk to him for a minute. It was late and I did want to get hime, but he knows I'm in the same neighborhood so it wasn;t like I was going to shake him off. He asked if I wanted a coffee. "No thank you, it's 11 at night, but thank you."
"I want to tell you I love you." Whaaaa? Just like that, out of nowhere.
"I see you on your doorstep. I love you. In my country we like your look. I would take you home to make you my wife." Oh, great... the "we like big ol' women because they can bear 17 children with those hips of yours" approach to my heart. Maybe I should introduce him to Kathleen. SHe needs men that can talk to her in Chad.
I told him I was married already and I appreciated him telling me that, but I had to go home now. Goodnight Didi from Senegal.
"Know that when I see you I am looking at you with love. Goodnight Kristina from America."
Oh boy.
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