The rabbit hole

I was at a dinner table with some strangers that they we’re trying their best to please me. The rabbit was prepared in special occasions – I was told – and it was a delicacy around these places. It might be I thought, but then again, also my grandfather thought the same, I did not share his opinion.

So, I was faced with the big white (fancy) plate full of the fine delicacy, cooked at the best. It had some salad leafs around. I am sure that must of been other things on that table but I don’t remember much. I only remember the immaculate dinner table with the perfect aligned cutlery and plates. With the neat white serviettes complementing the whole arrangement.

I did not know how to react to the ”surprise”. For them I was the poor, inexperienced and under fed ”child” coming from a third world. Offering me this rabbit feast must of been a delight they thought. Except it wasn’t. The smell churn off my stomach and I was smiling trying to explain in my best Italian that I can’t eat this. Yes, we do eat it in my country too, except that I don’t. I can’t eat rabbits. They are rather partners to play with and not a meal to me.

I was finally given some pasta. At least this I could eat. They still could not get over the shock that I refused their delicious rabbit.

After dinner I watched loud Italian tv. If you don’t know Italian tv, oh well, I can tell you it’s a delight. I just wanted to go to sleep so after all that dinner fuss now they had to accept I cannot entertain them.

I was showed my room – an equally sterile bedroom, with sheets so perfect, that I was afraid not to ruin them. I tried to go to sleep, yet it was very difficult. Why I was even here? Oh yes, I was trying to please my mum. These people are remarkable and helped me a lot in my journey here. You will see, they are nice people and you will like them. One dinner won’t kill you. And, really, they are like family. Not my family, I thought.

Yes, it was embarrassing and for some reason I felt that it was under my dignity to be there and pretend all that circus. Like, I was a circus monkey they we’re dying to see. Except I wasn’t, I could not ever accept this role.

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s