Two longs and hot water

November 3, Palermo, breakfast room at the hotel - I was standing at the coffee machine, confused, as I had been the day before, and also grateful that we had such easy access to the coffee in the morning.

It was a complicated espresso machine. A woman next to me, maybe 65 or 70, with a nice scarf and a kind face, saw my expression. “Francaise?” she asked, then quickly realizing no, “do you speak English?” I nodded happily. She was, I believe, from Switzerland. I asked her, but really she was eager to help me with the coffee.

“What do you have?” I asked, pointing to her cup, which seemed to approximate a regular coffee - or Americano. She showed me on the machine. “Coffee long,” it said. Which I supposed was a big, or double espresso. Really I had no idea.

“Two longs and a hot water,” she showed me, and I thanked her profusely. It probably came across as very American, my thank you. I can’t be reserved.

I was grateful for the tip, and for the interaction. People helping people, everyday, in these miniature moments. I am heartened by these interactions, again and again. The scenery and the food and the learning is all very good, but these moments are what it is all about.

Rest/not rest

November 2, Palermo - Today I came back to the hotel room in the late afternoon to drop off some of the things we had purchased on the quiet street my mom and I walked today, dotted with artisan’s shops.

I thought it would be a good idea to do a ten minute meditation on the Calm app to rest and center myself before I headed back out into the crowds, to the shops, the markets, the people - I was so eager to go, go, go.

I did the self-imposed quiet time while the world waited outside. But it felt like I was dying.