November 27, 2019

“You are wasted here Mariushka. The world is out there and you have to go out and seize it,” Mariushka’s grandmother, Maria Sr, had repeated to her every time over their nightly tea inside her house. “Nothing is happening her in Vlachzek. Nothing ever will. Don’t become like your father Mariushka promise me. Here the men are no good. You have to trust me. If your mother had been around… She’d tell you the same,” Maria Sr would say. Getting up while cleaning the tea cups from the stand next to the old green faded armchair and bringing it to the sink of the fake wooden kitchen. It was because of Maria Sr that Mariushka moved to London. From Vlachzek to the big city, Mariushka had found place in a seedy apartment in Cockfosters which a friend of a friend had a contact with. “Not great, but you can go to sleep safe,” were her exact words. Safety. That’s really all Maria needed in her life right now. Moving away had been already too big of a move. The same friend had offered her a job. At a big restaurant near St Paul’s which was frequented by corporate employees after working hours. The decor inside industrial and impressive. The servers all from Eastern or Central Eastern Europe like her. The Italians, the other big servers nations, worked in other areas, she later learned. At the thought of having a job, in the city, for a big chef which appeared on TV, Mariushka had smiled. She was so happy at a chance to be part of something bigger, better, that by the end of the first night she had memorised most of the corporate training material she had received. Working, mentally, through the manuals which taught her how to up-sell to the client, and know what to recommend to each table for drinks and food. Slowly repeating in her English each phrase to herself. Highlighting the important passages so that she could quickly reference them the weeks after.