One hunts for the ultimate souvenir, forgoing a cup of coffee or an ice cream (even the best in town) because it can buy another memento, discovering & partaking in the wild joys of capitalism. The other looks for what what is part of him or his country, telling and retelling the history of a recently won independence. Coffee has to be made just his way and the right coffee set is bought. Anything to reinforce the familiar. Yes the city meets with approval. Yes the culture of centuries is recognized, yet in a small bubble they move from wonderment to puzzlement. So many Muslims, such unknown history and the prices high, too high. An Eames chair - really splendid - is considered just expensive second hand stuff. The café full of saints made them smile and the red light district was loathed. Yet the piece of fish is cut differently than at home and when tasted prepared - well they just don't prepare it his way. I practice undestanding, patience and gently prepare a meal and then take my leave to write, remembering that on the menu, I'll always take what I don't know...
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