I order my breakfast at the counter,
a coffee and a couple of unknown pastries.
I see from the register that the cost
is five Euros and twenty.
I pull out my coins and count them,
then hand them to the clerk.
She shakes her head no.
I’m not doing it correctly.
She points at a plate by the register
and I’m to understand that it is wrong
to simply hand her the coins,
but that I must place them on the plate.
I learn that money transactions in Latvian cafes
must be completed through an unassuming plate
that sits on top of a counter.
It seems that the plate can be any colour
or any style, but it’s important that it is a plate
and not, say, a cereal bowl or a teacup.
I place my coins on the plate.
The clerk pokes her finger into the coins,
moving them around with a fingernail
to see them better, counting soundlessly
by moving her lips.
She looks at me and nods.
Yes, I have completed the transaction correctly.
I notice a small jar, also beside the register
and that the jar has a coin in it.
I add a few more coins as a tip
and then look up at the clerk
to see if I’ve done it correctly.
She hesitates and I see
that it could go either way.
Finally she nods and I am delighted again.
At my next cafe, I drop my coins
on the plate by the register.
The clerk is appalled.
It seems that I have dropped my coins
on a dirty plate that she has
just cleared from a table.
I realize in my embarrassment
that learning the customs of
other countries can be difficult.