How is this my life? Vol. 1: Food

Dear Mom:

I know what you're going to ask.  Am I eating well? the answer is: undoubtedly yes.  Too well, in fact.  

In the past few days, I have had:  

• An average of 2 cups of espresso daily.  One at breakfast, once at lunch
• Fruit and vegetables at every meal.  The salad comes with aglio e oglio (oil and vinegar), so is  simple and delicious. 
•  Italian fresh mozzarella, French Gruyere, along with killer charcuterie.
• A small glass of French wine maybe every other day for dinner.   And on Sunday, we had champagne, just because it was Sunday
• Nutella out of a small pail (at right), to have on whatever I'd like
• Various cakes, pies, and homemade desserts
• French and Italian entrees: Chicken Cordon Bleu, Penne Bolognese, Flank Steak.  Lasagne. 
• This weekend, an Iranian friend of one of the sisters brought us a delicious rice and meat dish with yogurt sauce. I've been craving my hummus and other favorite flavors from this part of the world, so this was giant spoonful of heaven (which tastes like seasoned rice and meat, in case you were curious) for me. 
• 2 bars of Swiss chocolate to celebrate the Feast Days of St. John Bosco and St. Francis de Sales, the founder and spiritual inspiration for the Salesians.  
• Homemade crepes with the aforementioned Nutella

Almost every day I have the realization about how lucky this makes me.  And to quote my friend Maria Paula, it always evokes the question, "How is this my life?" (MP usually used this for absurdly unpleasant experiences, but I think it works just as well for the good)

Happy Mom?

Love,

Laura

I could go on, but that would just be mean. And there's a larger point in this (this post was not supposed to end up here, but it did). 

I was describing this to my friends back home, which raised the probably obvious question . .  How is that a life of poverty and simplicity?  It's an interesting question, and here's my best attempt to answer it as I understand things.

Community dinner. 

Yes, the community is comfortable, but far from opulent, really, quite simple, relative to the community it serves (I have not yet witnessed poverty as I understand it in Geneva). And above all, it's a community of collective comfort but individual humility.   As a member of the community who is contributing in my small way to part of its mission, I have the privilege of participating in community meals, as delicious and nutritious as they are.  But it is not my food, and I am not entitled to it except insofar as I am participating in the community.  I do not have a cubby of food with my name on it that no one else can take and I do not choose what I want to eat this evening.  The sisters have a little more say as these things are their responsibility, but in general, all find out what is for dinner, and enjoy it gladly and gratefully.

There's something beautiful and liberating about this. . . like I've written previously, DC by the end was a little exhausting with all the little choices I had to make (apparently this is a real phenomenon known as "decision fatigue"). I was constantly playing mental tug of war with the world trying to make the most of my highly finite time and money.  Now those decisions are made apart from me, either by one of the sisters or simply by the routines that have been built in the community and wider culture over the decades (both European and Salesian culture definitely have deeper roots than I'm accustomed to.)  The constant act of deciding, the tug of war has been outsourced.

Trading my burger and beer
cravings in for espresso,
pannetone and gruyere.

But in roughly 6 months, I will reenter the world and be thrown back into a world of a million choices, of greater autonomy.  And it will be nice to eat according to my cravings, and enjoy the American fashion of appropriating everyone else's food, manipulating it in some way and then eating cuisines from a different continent every night.  And when not overwhelmed by choice, it can be extraordinarily rewarding to procure my ingredients and manipulate them to produce something  new and delicious.

But the constant choosing may become a burden once again, and I do not know if the regained freedom of choice will be harder after these few months of life in community, or easier thanks to these months of reprieve and personal development.  I will find out, for better or for worse.   But in the meantime, I am embracing this life of delicious simplicity.

Dinnertime. Ciao for now!

Laura

Slightly more candid, Simon-Pierre included.