A few days ago, I walked by myself into a Roman supermarket completely cloaked in my own thoughts. What a strange sensation it has been to be in a country where I don’t speak the language. Not since I first travelled, lived, and worked in Honduras have I had this feeling of being completely on the fringe of society. Now that I speak Spanish, I suddenly remember how it felt to only understand snippets of conversation intended to convey even the most banal elements of every day life. Thankfully, the similarities between Spanish and Italian are such that I understand more than the people around me are prepared to accept (given their surprised faces and smiles when I suddenly and unexpectedly answer or contribute to the conversation).

I find myself now, as I did before, filling in the blanks with my own interpretation of what’s going on OR I entertain myself in a brief corner of my mind; and it is from this mental corner that I found myself as I walked into the supermarket.

Rome is full of food, wine, and desserts that is often followed by more food, wine, and yes…more desserts. If I listen hard enough, I can hear my moratorium on cheese simply disappear. How can someone even think of visiting Rome without eating tons of cheese, pounds of pasta, and drinking bottles and bottles of wine?! I think Julia Roberts got it right…so, as I come to the end of the first week:  Eat (check). There are times when we turn a corner and my breath is ripped, literally and figuratively, from my lungs. So overwhelming, it is, to walk along the streets that tell the story of modern civilization. This isn’t my first visit to Rome, but it is the first time I’ve seen it with such amazing and loving eyes.

My last visit still makes me laugh as I remember how my friend, Kristine and I, “lost” my passport, my desperate sprint to the car rental in search of said passport, her dumping my suitcase (underwear included) in the middle of the train station, the police demanding that she kindly repack my suitcase, our missed train to Milan—only to discover that I had it in my pocket the entire time.

And, it is with the aforementioned loving eyes that I walked into the supermarket.

I slowly and consciously chose my items. Paid for them. Exited the store. However, something caught my eye and I decided to walk in again (through a side door) to look at the rows and rows of wine. Deciding that I had had enough wine, I sauntered down the street in my reverie but suddenly I turned because I heard yelling at my back. I found that the yelling was directed at me?! I turned around, walked back at the same pace to an irate man yelling at me. I surmised it to be because he thought I had stolen something because I exited through the side door instead of the principal one. Slowly, I opened my bag, showed him my receipt, and pointed to each item in the bag and its corresponding listing on the receipt. In my halting Italian, I tell him, “Sono un uomo onesto.” He suddenly stops talking, and without another word, I turn and continue my slow gait back to the apartment.

Approximately an hour late, we sit down to eat and I suddenly remember what happened at the store. I wasn’t sure if I would tell Tommi and Chiara what happened, but I thought it would make an interesting edition to the “funny things that happened to Jaime in Rome.” They explained how my yelling grocer’s response was typically Roman. I smiled at myself and thought, “That man will be my friend before it’s said and done.” Sure, we started out in a “misunderstanding,” but I decided while he was frothing at the mouth at my suspected thievery that he deserved my patience and understanding even though he hadn’t given me the benefit of the doubt even though I was in his sights the entire time.

Sometimes, a breakthrough in generosity means withholding bitter words as they burn on your tongue. My grandmother always says, “If you see a fool and a wise man arguing on the street corner, the casual passerby can not tell which is which.” Or, as my friend Barb Klein’s recent Facebook post advises:

“Maybe you don’t like your job, maybe you didn’t get enough sleep. Well nobody likes their job, nobody got enough sleep. Maybe you just had the worst day of your life, but you know, there’s no escape, there’s no excuse, so just suck it up and be nice.”  ~ Ani Difranco

Next week? I’m working on Pray!

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