The Best Corn Thins Ever

Yesterday was my first day in Siena. I arrived at my accommodation, settled in, and then headed out to the supermarket for supplies. (Many thanks to my friend, Marcus, who introduced me to the iPhone application “Off Maps”, which helped me get there without having to open up one of those huge paper maps that scream tooooourist!).

Within seconds of my stroll through the intricate maze of narrow streets, I fell in love with this place. I have never seen anything like it. The entire city has been declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, and it is easy to see why. I knew very little about Siena when I decided to live here for four months, but somehow I don’t think it is a decision I will regret.

Now back to the supermarket. It is a small-scale replica of the city itself; a tiny space comprised of narrow aisles packed with interesting items. I took my time milling around the shelves and trying to work out the Italian labels. Once again thank you to the iPhone for the Italian-English Dictionary which helped me choose my dinner.

The other items I purchased were: some UHT milk, a box of Kellog’s Special K, the supermarket’s brand of corn thins (you know, those things that are like rice cakes, only they’re made from corn instead of rice), a Kit Kat and some chocolate soy-milk prima packs. The UHT was awesome! Creamy and yum (kicks over Devondale for sure), and the Kit Kat ---- ohh the Kit Kat. I don’t know what they do to it over here, but it was the best break I’ve ever had. However… the piece de resistance was undoubtedly the corn thins. They are different to the ones in Australia and were basically… outstanding.

This pack of goodness got me thinking; if something as inconsequential as corn thins can bring such joy and satisfaction, what are we all working our tails off for? It’s not for corn thins that we kill ourselves. It’s for other stuff. Stuff that society tells us we need. Stuff that we convince ourselves we need. But do we really need it?

I remember when I was on a clinical placement at uni, my supervising therapist and I went to see a patient at her home. I got chatting to her son who was a middle aged man caring for his elderly mother. For some reason he started telling me about a book he was reading. He said something I will never forget. It went kind of like this:

“Humans have very few basic needs in life: food, water, shelter, warmth, and oxygen. So why do we spend our whole lives slaving away at work and not living, simply to acquire just one of those basic needs; shelter. Why do we do it? What about Native Americans who used to live in tepees or Aboriginal Australians in their well-built huts? They didn’t spend their whole lives trying to acquire a dwelling. They had more time for their families, for their community and for themselves.”

I have contemplated that conversation many times over the years and every time I do, I wonder how most of us can agree with him, and yet still feel we have no choice but to submit to trends like the capitalistic, all-consuming property market. Why do we settle for the kind of life we should have rather than the kind we believe in?

I know there are practicalities to life – investment, bills, security for retirement and all that – but there must be a point at which reality and ideals can intermingle to produce the kind of life that is more replete with corn thin-esque sighs of satisfaction, than mortgage repayment-esque sighs of resignation.

I’m not sure how to achieve this balance, but one thing I am certain of is this:

I am determined to eat corn thins.