Sometimes you are in need of a change. Even if it means that you arrive a bit late to a class that is not happening. Like today. For once I wanted to be on time for class, so I got up early and made sure everything was prepared. Probably even more prepared than the teacher. Upon arriving to school, I found out that the doors to the class were locked. So I waited to see if maybe someone will arrive. I waited in vain. After 30 minutes, I asked myself: "What is there to do when there is no class?" Well, it is Tuesday morning (11:30 am is still morning in Italy), the sun is shedding its' last rays upon the turning leaves, why not visit the market?
Every Tuesday morning in Via Eustachi, there is a market where you can buy almost anything. From stockings to fish (not a very nice parallel is it?), everything is for sale. There is no order. There is no such thing as a section for fish, section for vegetables and fruits and no section for clothing. The only difference between all of these stands are the prices and the marketing. By price difference, I believe my readers can understand clearly. By marketing I mean by how well the vendor is able to present to you his finest piece of fresh sea fish (in Milan), the warmest fleece jacket or even the best grocery bag you can buy for 1 euro.
While strolling along the street, it was hard not to stop and take a moment to not only observe but to listen to the rumble of the market, the sound accumulating with the whizzing engine of a Vespa or Piaggio truck filled with plants passing by the street. Although Via Eustachi is a long street, the market itself does not fill the whole, therefore it makes it a pleasant quick inhalation of what Hollywood has projected towards us as Italy. Might I even say that the Arabs and Bangladeshi have been able to quickly assimilate between these Italian merchants. While selling their artichokes from boxes having imprinted on them: Be in Italy, buy Italian products (in Italian of course).
I opted only for some salad from a local Italian farm (how local I don't know, but hey, the feeling is there), where 3 heads cost 2 euros. Then Israeli dates and Romanian walnuts from a Bangladeshi vendor. Talk about Globalization.
Porcini for 15 euros here, but the next stand has them for 25 euros. So which is Italian and which imported? A Shakespearen thought for the day
The Day of the Dead is approaching. So are fake flowers.
- "Questa signora?"-
-"Non mi piace"-
-"Allora, e che dia di questa?"-
-"Si, va bene"-
Taking a break from the market to call mamma at Amalo. Which I absolutely amo to go to. They are the closest place to go to for fresh juices. I must admit, I have traded my daily green smoothies for a daily cappuccino and bricoche con crema
I told you, you can buy almost anything here. Even sun exposed cleaning products for half off.
A very passive agressive Looney Tune.
So, ci vediamo a domani?