"Aren't your feet cold?" He asks the first day he sees me. For the first time this week someone is speaking to me in English and instead of Dutch.
I look down at my bare toes, and realize I haven't seen anyone else in this whole town who's wearing sandals. Apparently that's not the thing to do in the Netherlands in the Fall.
"No, not really" I say, smiling and shrugging at him.
His eyebrows knit together in look of disbelief, but he doesn't say anything else - just hands the frites I ordered over the counter of his food truck. It's parked right by the hall our exhibition is in, so I find myself ducking out there almost every day the rest of the trip.
The next day he greets me, "Oh, the girl with the cold feet!"
This time I just smile, feeling the warmth of being known when everything around me is foriegn, "Yes,that's me" I say, smiling, "Can I have some frites? With mayonnaise, please?"
I look down at my bare toes, and realize I haven't seen anyone else in this whole town who's wearing sandals. Apparently that's not the thing to do in the Netherlands in the Fall.
"No, not really" I say, smiling and shrugging at him.
His eyebrows knit together in look of disbelief, but he doesn't say anything else - just hands the frites I ordered over the counter of his food truck. It's parked right by the hall our exhibition is in, so I find myself ducking out there almost every day the rest of the trip.
The next day he greets me, "Oh, the girl with the cold feet!"
This time I just smile, feeling the warmth of being known when everything around me is foriegn, "Yes,that's me" I say, smiling, "Can I have some frites? With mayonnaise, please?"
No comments:
Post a Comment