An Early Wake up Call

Some colleagues still do not accept the fact that I am on legitimate annual leave. Yes, it’s a bit long, at one month, but hey, an annual leave is no different from legitimate maternity leave, which is even longer.

So I keep getting sms, calls and tonnes of emails that take ages to download, from day one of my arrival here. This morning was the ‘’ultimate’’. I got a call from Japan. She rang Franca’s landline and alarmed her. I was still in bed at 8.30 am, after a long day and a late night the day before with homework, lessons, test and some work.

Franca excitedly barged into my room, ‘’this is definitely for you, she could not understand a word of Italian; she had actually called twice this morning’’ she said as she handed me her phone.

After sorting out with her some matters (which certainly does not warrant an early wake up call to alarm Franca and me), my cell phone rang.

By now my tone of voice is as chilly as the Perugian wind. I should have been warmer. It was a headhunter. He remembered me from a year and a half ago when I told him I was not ready to move. He now has a more suitable opportunity and wanted to talk.

I felt so bad. First I had sounded cold, and secondly I could not remember him. Yet he was so polite and considerate.

What excellent timing. My stay here is drawing to an end, and I have two work-related calls to remind me to start switching gear.

Jigsaw Puzzle Pieced
The lovely music on the harmonica was playing as I got out of the bathroom. I heard Franca open the window and say something and a man replied thank you.

‘’I love this music, who is playing?’’ I asked. She showed me the man playing outside our apartment and explained that he would play his music here regularly and she would give him some money if she sees him, for him to buy a pizza or something to eat. ‘’It’s better to do good than to do bad,’’ she added.

So that’s what it was all about! I had heard him on my first week of arrival and had not been able to figure out where the music had come from. I tried asking Franca when she returned home but she did not understand what I was trying to ask.

It is the same music I heard - a bit melancholic, just the right piece to match my homesickness then when I first heard it. Now, it is just the right piece to match my reluctance to leave, I guess.

I went into my room and came out again with the impulse to ‘’do good’’. Could I give him something too? I asked Franca. ‘’Don’t worry, he has left, you can do it another time,’’ she said. I am not sure if I will get to see or hear him ‘’another time’’ though. But tone deaf and musical idiot that I am, I will still remember the music in my heart.