Sitting Alone

Don’t worry this post isn’t as depressing as its title makes it out to be. Today was Sunday and just like you would guess in Italy, church bells lit up the neighborhood at 7am for morning mass. Of course I just grabbed an extra pillow covered my head and “Z’d” it out for another two hours. When I eventually woke up, I had a piece of apple pie that my teammate Roberto’s mother gave to me the day before to take home and insist I had It for breakfast. Pie for breakfast, no complaints here. I’m just trying to assimilate.
Since there was no polo practice today, I thought it would be a great time to get to know my neighborhood. I set out on foot even though Roberto had given me a bike the day before I wanted to fully take in the streets. I headed first to the market up the street because I wanted to pick up a few things to have around the house, essentials like chips and beer. I quickly found out they weren’t kidding when they said the only thing open on Sunday is church. Market closed, shops closed, most restaurants closed. Whatever, the streets were open and I was determined to familiarize myself with them.
I headed to the main plaza near my house where there is a large church and tower. Another mass was in session so I decided to not play the stupid American and figured I would wait to another day to peak my head in and have a look. From the plaza I walked by the park where they had a youth soccer game going on. I moved along pretty quick because I didn’t want them to get suspicious why some guy in the corner with a creepy mustache had come to watch little boys run around (Ohhh Yeah, the Stache Is coming back!). I continued to navigate the streets till I found the centro (pronounced Chentro) where there were more churches and more action than anywhere else in town on this chilly morning. I continued to pass the University, library and the community pool.
After an hour and a half I already had the map of Dalmine on the back of my hand (I think it’s because just like Michael Jordan I was a Geography Major). I had walked a fair distance and was getting pretty hungry. I found one of the only restaurants open on my way back and decided to have some lunch. I stepped in, was shown a table and sat down to try and decipher the menu. I could tell if I was on the Pizza or fish page but besides that I was pretty useless. I was going to roll the dice and just point but the waiter who could tell I was struggling came over and asked if I would like to try his recommendation. I said yes, he nodded and then left without telling me what I had ordered. He returned a minute later with a basket of bread and a glass of white wine. If this had been all he brought me the whole meal I would have been content. The bread over here is amazing and I can’t tell the difference between good and shit wine.
Sitting there with my pane and vino bianco it hit me, I’m sitting alone. I mean I’ve sat alone at a Carl’s Jr off the middle of I-5 on my way don’t to school before but I definitely never sat down at a nice restaurant to have a real meal. It was weird. All around me I could hear the chatter of families and friends crescendo as they matched each other’s comment a little louder than the one before( I don’t know why they do this, at first I thought everyone over here is constantly arguing but I’m figuring out that is just the way they talk). A little more of the vino and I was starting to get past the first date jitters of having a meal with myself. I opened my latest Patterson novel and got absorbed in Alex Cross’s timely heroics until my food came.
And the surprise dish is…….Seafood pasta- fruit di mare. I won’t lie it probably wouldn’t have been my first choice but as intimidating as it looked it smelled amazing. It was. Clams, mussels, calamari, prawns, everything that makes half of you want to throw-up, on top of spaghetti pasta with a spicy red sauce. I ate the whole thing. Since there was no one to talk to I was really able to focus on the food, I started to think that this wasn’t so bad after all. When I was finished I decided to go full Italian and have the customary post meal espresso.
In the words of the ever so wise ICECUBE, “Today was a good day”

Bus #10