This morning, I was sitting at a sidewalk café with my caffe con latte and watching the scene in front of me. A waiter came out of the café to check on his customers two tables over. He asks, “Is the food good?” They respond that it is very good. His face lights up.
This reminded me of an experience I had 30 years ago. Just before we planned to get pregnant again (with Natan), Christy let me take a summer trip to Indonesia: my second “last fling with freedom,” we called it, right before each boy was born. I went to Sulawesi, a fairly remote island. I was staying in a small town called Bira, on the southern peninsula. I think there must have been only a few places to eat, for a noticed this man a few times before I actually met him. He looked and sounded very gruff and a bit intimidating. But foreigners attract, so eventually I did meet him. He was Italian. His “sour disposition” melted away when he spoke of food back home. “My mama’s meatballs,” he exclaimed, and his face lit up, just like this waiter here. It was nice to be reminded of that memory this morning.
I went to the Caravaggio exhibit today. I am told he was a great influencer of painters in his day in the way he portrayed light in his art. It was an amazing exhibit.
