In Strangers' Arms

I was not aware of my inner relief when, upon entering a familiar venue, I found a certain professional waiter year after year. Until something happened…

One day, “my” familiar waiter, the one who brought my orders at Confiteria Ideal . . . was nowhere to be seen. I thought:  Did he die?

Pang in the stomach. . . I rose from my seat and looked for the manager to ask about him. He delivered the bad news. I xpressed my loss. He was sad too. He closed La Ideal for 48 hours after the waiters’s death. Let me clarify that this confitería is not a small business; it is a two story restaurant and tea house that features live orchestras several nights a week and tango dancing daily. Yet it closed when one waiter died! (This would never happen in my second culture).

The North American “me” was shocked to hear he closed the restaurant: “Do you mean you did not open for business for two full days?” His response:  “We are human, he was with us for twenty years.”  The porteña “me” understood how human bonds are important here. This is a culture that values connections.

Reflection: This city would have not given us the most human of dances if an employee was just a number. La Ideal has been in business since the first decade of the 20th century. How relieving that it seems to maintain the human culture of its birth time.

(Copyright (c) 2012 Beatriz Dujovne)