chaos kitchen

i remember being in spanish class in 7th grade. we used to do these practice exercises where the teacher would tell us things in spanish like, touch your pencil, touch your desk, touch the wall. one day, the teacher called on a kid to touch the door. he looked at her, not really understanding what she had asked him to do. she said it again in spanish, touch the door, only this time she encouraged him by saying "rapido, rapido!" jolted by this, the kid shot up from his desk, looked around confusedly for a second, ran towards the door, ran through the open door and into the hallway and slammed the door behind him. we all laughed. a lot. he didn't exactly understand what was being asked of him and he made a mistake. touch the door, do not run outside and close the door. i'm telling this story because at work people will sometimes frantically tell me something in italian, and i feel a little like that kid from spanish class, understanding the gist of what i am being told but not necessarily executing tasks with precision. But (!) something really cool has been happening recently. it happened once. and then again. and now it happens fairly regularly. someone will say something to me in urgent kitchen italian, and i will magically understand every single word they have said to me. it's weird and great.

sometimes at the end of the day our kitchen reminds me of one of the trashed hotel rooms from the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Maybe not as trashed as that, but perhaps similar in feel and spirit. the sense that utter mayhem has just occurred. random things strewn around the kitchen.

i'm still not learning or participating in the ways that i want to. the seafood tastes good though.