Tuesday, 21 April 2020

Tuesday, April 21/2020

To the little shop for eggs and a few other things. Look up the Turkish for eggs, lest asking in English be pointless. Yumurta. Seems to be for both singular and plural, though that may not matter for getting the message across. The audio feature is useful too. Turns out the accent is on the first syllable, and stress is often crucial to communication. Easy to be totally incomprehensible by moving the stress in “hospital” to the second syllable. No eggs in sight for the third time, so I ask. “Ah, eggs?” The owner’s English, while far from fluent, is better than my Turkish - admittedly a very low bar. But ANY amount of a language is better than none. Even the little lists in the back of travel books with yes, no, please, thank you, water, and toilet.

And yes, there are eggs. In a corner we haven’t checked. In North America are eggs refrigerated, and there’s a reason for that. Eggs in much of Europe aren’t.  Most European countries vaccinate egg laying hens against salmonella. North Americans don’t. What they do instead is shampoo the newly laid eggs with soap and hot water. This destroys surface bacteria but also removes the protective coating nature supplies eggs with, making them more vulnerable to later contamination. So now we know where to find the eggs - in our case a small plastic bag with six eggs supplied by a local. Related to the rooster we sometimes hear?

We’re no sooner home with eggs, water, wine, aubergines, carrots, bread, and toilet paper, than J spots the elusive produce truck with its smiling driver. Had begun to think it had been banned. So oranges, apples, spinach, potatoes, coriander, and garlic.

And, re eggs, J spots a cat on the roof tiles opposite eating something. We’re hoping not a coal tit egg, but....