Skip to main content

That costs an Egg! (Or, ¡Eso cuesta un huevo!)

The cachacos, people born and raised in the Colombian capital city, Bogotá, have very peculiar comparisons to eggs. For instance, when they want to say that something is extremely cheap, they say, ¡Eso está a precio de huevo!, that has the price of an egg. But when they want to say that something is extremely expensive, they say, ¡Eso cuesta un huevo!, that costs an egg. I think I have to ask whether in both cases they are referring to the same kind of egg; or whether in one case they are talking about an egg, that which is laid by a hen, and in the other case they are talking about an egg, one of two which hang in between mens' legs.

In any case, in Germany an egg costs an egg. Why must they be so expensive? And what is this whole 50 cent difference between 10 eggs from an egg-industry, and 6 eggs from bio-hens, which are free to roam about? (The latter is more expensive.) And what is with the whole dozen eggs concept, or lack thereof? Why won't the Germans sell me twelve eggs? A dozen eggs is a perfect count for one week. But ten? Ten eggs? What am I supposed to do with that?

I don't really like to complain about my new country--as I said before, I am a fervient believer in the "If you don't like it, move back!" principle. And I love it here. But eggs--man, what is your deal, German Leute?!

Aside from the eggs, living in Germany does not cost an egg. It is actually quite inexpensive (if you earn and spend in Euros, and if you shop in the cheap stores, and if you buy store brands). We bought one month's worth of groceries yesterday for 31 Euros. That was including my 10 eggs.

Another great thing about German cost of living, is that one's eating habits change as the seasons change. For instance, this is no longer cherry season (insert sad face), but Clementine (mandarin) season is just beginning! This is no longer apple season (again, insert sad face), but orange season is just beginning! It's actually quite interesting, because it keeps you craving for new fruits all year long.

Now that my course is over, I get to spend more time at home. With so much time on my hands, I've actually picked up cooking (and so far I've only intoxicated myself; I spoke to Honey two hours ago, and he is healthy. It might be my gallbladderlessness that is affected...) and I think I'm doing just fine. I've made a couple of Colombian dishes, and my next meal will be pork in mushroom sauce. Wish me luck. And with the price for food here, it will not cost me an egg!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Finding Myself

I'm well aware of all my identities, past and present. I wear them like masks - some, I have even worn like capes. Proudly displaying them for the world to see and admire. I used to believe that I could "put on" one identity and be authentic, and then "put on" another one and still the authentic. And at least in my heart I was authentic. Natalya, the 16-year-old poet was an authentic identity for me; Natalya, the Journalist was a thrilling identity (that came with an official badge and access to many venues and people I would have otherwise not been able to get close to); Natalya, the Foreigner was (and continues to be!) my favorite identity, the one with which I feel most at ease. Perhaps because it is the simplest one, the one that requires the least amount of work from my side: I just happen to not have been born where I live. I have been living with this identity for 22 years. Most recently, Rolfs-Mutter and Christophs-Mama have joined the ranks of my favori

I hate marketing

I hate marketing. I hate it. I hate it -- because it works. You see, I'm getting married in seven months (yay me! Check out our wedding website ), and I need to do all the planning here in Germany for a wedding taking place in the Caribbean coast of Colombia. It does seem like a challenge, but I am an amazing planner and I can do it. Also, my mom and sister/Maid of Honor have it all under control. But, as I said, since I'm in Germany, there are many things I need to do online. So I have to rely on websites to kinda figure out what I want. Before I went online, I took advice from my good friend Hope (who also recently married) and closed my eyes and imagined my perfect wedding. This is what my perfect wedding looks like: At the beach, hopefully getting our feet wet while saying "I do", at sunset, with only our closest family and friends (so, no more than 20 people), drinking piña coladas and eating fish and coconut rice, listening to soothing background music a

I can ride my bike with no handlebars

There are a lot of things I can do, a whole lot of things I can do very well, and a specific number of things I can do quite above average. For example, I can sew; but I can type very well; but I can edit your paper quite above average. It actually irritates me to read facebook posts, because I'm always correcting them in my mind (except for one friend whom I always publicly correct. I don't think he likes it that much...). Another example: I can cook (stop laughing, I can !); but I can understand and follow a map very well; but I can read quite above average (faster, and with better reading comprehension skills than most). However, this is not a post about what I can do, but rather a post about what I cannot do. Especially while riding my bike. I ride my bike every day: three kilometers to the gym, then about 300 meters to my school, then 3 kilometers back home (with the occasional stop for groceries 300 meters from my home). When I leave home, it's daylight (not b