These multi-ethnic children encapsulate the spirit of my Monday.
It's been too long since I posted, and there's lots of things I could discuss: Glee finale, True Blood premier, more oil spilling, the World Cup, the various restaurants I've taken by force over the past few weeks, how gross my feet look in flip-flops and how having to wear them on a daily basis gives me mixed emotions of comfort and shame.... but no. I'd like to focus on something a little more "It's a Small World."
After I watched the Italy-Paraguay game at work (where the Italians in the office supplied salami, provolone, bread, Nutella, San Pellegrino Lemonata, and gelato) I decided that I should get a haircut. So I waddled my way over to my favorite immigrant barber shop (if you call a wonderfully sketchy basement a barber shop) at Astor Place. I've gone there for 3 years now and absolutely love it. But Monday was by far the best experience I've had there:
I was wearing my Italian soccer jersey, so instantly the woman cutting my hair commented, both to me and the guy cutting hair next to her. Then we all started speaking Italian about how Gli Azzurri (the Italian soccer team) are amazing, and hail to the victors, and we'll get another Cup, and let's go grab some cannoli, etc. etc. Then I find out that the woman cutting my hair is Greek Orthodox - wasn't a huge surprise given her accent - and we talk all about that, and her grandchildren's picky diets, and spanakopita, and damned those South Koreans for beating Greece 2-0. Although I was mildly confused when she kept speaking Spanish to other people. She caught on that I understood her when I couldn't stop laughing at her heckling of the guy at the cash register. It was like I had my very own ethnically confused Yaya cutting my hair. When I left I tipped her and said "Kali Nikta" (goodnight in Greek). She got really tickled and said "Oh! Look at you! Kali nikta!"
God, I love immigrants. I can only one day hope to be one...
Ciao Bella!
Matteo "Multi-ethnic" Yazge
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