美食祈祷与恋爱意大利文化 《美食祈祷和恋爱》Chapter 33 (71):身处意大利的我

《美食祈祷和恋爱》Chapter 33 (71):身处意大利的我  

And still
after a few weeks of thinking about it
I can't answer it any better now. I know some words that it definitely isn't. It's not MARRIAGE
that's evident. It's not FAMILY (though this was the word of the town I'd lived in for a few years with my husband
and since I did not fit with that word
this was a big cause of my suffering). It's not DEPRESSION anymore
thank heavens. I'm not concerned that I share Stockholm's word of CONFORM. But I don't feel that I'm entirely inhabiting New York City's ACHIEVE anymore
either
though that had indeed been my word all throughout my enties. My word might be SEEK. (Then again
let's be honest—it might just as easily be HIDE.) Over the last months in Italy
my word has largely been PLEASURE
but that word doesn't match every single part of me
or I wouldn't be so eager to get myself to India. My word might be DEVOTION
though this makes me sound like more of a goody-goody than I am and doesn't take into account how much wine I've been drinking.
I don't know the answer
and I suppose that's what this year of journeying is about. Finding my word. But one thing I can say with all assurance—it ain't SEX.
Or so I claim
anyhow. You tell me
then
why today my feet led me almost of their own accord to a discreet boutique off the Via Condotti
where—under the expert tutelage of the silky young Italian shop girl—I spent a few dreamy hours (and a transcontinental airline ticket's worth of money) buying enough lingerie to keep a sultan's consort outfitted for 1
001 nights. I bought bras of every shape and formation. I bought filmy
flimsy camisoles and sassy bits of panty in every color of the Easter basket
and slips that came in creamy satins and hush-now-baby silks
and handmade little bits of string and things and basically just one velvety
lacy
crazy valentine after another.
至少这是我的主张。那么，请告诉我，今天我的脚为何不由自主地领我到康多提大道（Via Condotti）附近一家不起眼的商店——在轻声细语的年轻意大利售货小姐专业的监护下——我花数小时的梦幻时光（以及相当于一张跨洲机票的费用），买下足以让苏丹王的老婆换穿一千零一夜的贴身内衣裤。我买了各式各样的胸罩，我买了又轻又薄的紧身衬衣、各种颜色的漂亮内裤、性感的丝绸衬裙、手工袜带等，基本上是一件又一件柔软光滑、带花边、疯狂的情人节礼物。
I have never owned things like this in my life. So why now? As I was walking out of the store
hauling my cache of tissue-wrapped naughties under my arm
I suddenly thought of the anguished demand I'd heard a Roman soccer fan yell the other night at the Lazio game
when Lazio's star player Albertini at a critical moment had passed the ball right into the middle of nowhere
for no reason whatsoever
totally blowing the play.
"Per chi???" the fan had shouted in near-madness. "Per chi???"
For WHOM??? For whom are you passing this ball
Albertini? Nobody's there!
Out on the street after my delirious hours of lingerie shopping
I remembered this line and repeated it to myself in a whisper: "Per chi?"
For whom
Liz? For whom all this decadent sexiness? Nobody's there. I had only a few weeks left in Italy and absolutely no intention of knocking boots with anyone. Or did I? Had I finally been affected by the word on the streets in Rome? Was this some final effort to bee Italian? Was this a gift to myself
or was it a gift for some as yet not even imagined lover? Was this an attempt to start healing my libido after the sexual self-confidence disaster of my last relationship?
I asked myself
"You gonna bring all this stuff to India?"Eat
Pray
Love