The Italian restaurant in Venezuela⁹

Yesterday, here in Puerto la Cruz, I went to an Italian restaurant with two disciple boys. The owner recognised me from the newspapers and showed me such respect. He did not speak English and my disciples’ Spanish was really something! So we could not understand each other.

I asked for coffee with milk. He could not understand and he gave me coffee without milk. So the two boys went outside and bought milk from a store. They had told the restaurant owner “leche”, but their pronunciation was horrible. When he saw them coming back into the restaurant with milk, he grabbed it and said, “No good!” Then he brought warm milk for the coffee.

The music in the restaurant was so loud! We asked him, "Can you not turn it down?” Then his worker went and turned it down. The owner came to our table two or three times to ask if the food was good. Then he kept staring at me; he was so curious. He could not speak to us and we could not speak to him, but he was so happy to have us in his restaurant.