I think sounds are a huge sense for me...might be my favorite sense. Each city has a different symphony. California's song to me involves a mix of Hoku's "Perfect Day," the ocean's waves crashing on the shore and my mother and father's voice. California is home. Denver's to me is the mountain wind and splashing of puddles somehow intertwined with my best friend's laughter. Denver has a piece of my heart as well...it's not home but it's where my college days are...where I grew up most and learned the toughest lessons. Bologna, on the other hand, has a song like any other I've heard. It's crazy but Bologna can become home..I can let it in, because I hear God's voice. Allow me to explain...
I love being alone. People don't think I'm solitary but, in fact, I crave it when I'm around people too much. Sorry, but I love thinking, actually hearing my own thoughts, and just looking at the world around me in peace.
Walking alone is one of my favorite things, especially here in Bologna, because I love the sensation of being SURROUNDED by people and still being alone. On this one particular walk, I went down Via Indipendenza. I'll try to describe it as best as possible to you - shops everywhere, cobble stones, traffic, congestion, and this architectural genius of a church...I wish I could show you pictures.
I don't know the name but my mom wants me to pray and I hadn't done it in a while and I figured, it's time, Gia. I walked into this church...first having a little trouble with the door and it ended up making a huge slam...Gia always making a damn entrance. I know I'm a "character," if you will, but sometimes I wish mine was different...a little bit more refined, but oh well. Gotta love who you are, flaws and all.
Just one other person praying...absolute silence. My footsteps are the loudest thing in this church - such a dramatic change from right outside on crazy Via Indipendenza. I always like lighting candles for people in these ancient churches. Today's candle would be for my dad, Marino Zoller. The strict, straight-forward, jokester of a dad I had...he was the best doctor in the world. I prayed for him, said I loved him...and thanked him for being my guardian angel.
I sat down, closed my eyes and knelt down.
Dear Jesus, what's up? How are you today? You must be so busy...it's almost Sunday! You need a vacation! Okay I'll cut the crap...I'd like to talk to you actually. I wanted to say I can't thank you enough for allowing me to somehow make my way to Italy. You knew I always wanted to go and just like that, I'm here. The impossible doesn't seem so impossible anymore now that I've been able to come out here. Please help me succeed here...allow me to open my heart to everyone. Let them see I am a friend and will help them if they need it. Please take care of my mom..let her not feel as stressed. Please take care of my grandma...I know she's older God so just let her last days be happier and full of love. Oh my gosh and my BROTHER! Miklos needs helps with where to go to college. That boy is so smart, God. Thanks for giving him that. WHY DIDN'T I GET THOSE GENES? It's okay, we won't go into this, you do everything for some grand reason, huh? I'm sure I'll understand someday...and even if I don't, it's okay. You know what? Because you're like the eighth wonder of the world. Stay mysterious. That's the beauty of faith, isn't it? We just have to believe. If we knew why things happened, we would be miserable. Wow, thanks...okay I should just go with the flow and not be so uptight. Everyone thinks I'm so relaxed but I do worry, God..but right here, right now, in this random church in Bologna, I am putting all my worries in your hands. You'll know what to do. I trust you, Lord. I always will. Thank you.
That's generally how my prayers go. My stream of consciousness gets really worried and then, as if God's guiding my thoughts in the right direction, I hit sanity again and am centered. He's truly a light in the darkness and he leads me to safety. In Bologna, I feel safe. I am surrounded by good people. That's all it takes for me to fall in love with a place - good people. You know what this means? I know I struggled beforehand because of how different Bologna was than what I expected but...
I love Bologna, officially. Yay it happened!!!!!
I realized I smiled to myself on the way back home...it was utterly reassuring.
I'm in the right place. Listen to God, he's all around you. Bologna's symphony is God saying, "Welcome home, Gia."
Monday, January 31, 2011
"Don't worry, be happy"
The first night here in Bologna, we went out, of course. A Franceso was our chaperone (he's this hilarious dentist)...and let me just tell you that one euro shots are DANGEROUS. My friends sat down at a table and I just walked to the bar top about to order shots for everyone and, of course, what does Gia find? Boys. Edoardo, Lorenzo and some Vittorio...we laugh and flirt and next thing ya know, I was grabbing my coat to go dancing. What I loved most about the night were the walks TO the bars and dance clubs...everyone laughing and acting silly on Italian cobble stone streets is something else...that, in itself, is an experience. First time I heard the phrase, "don't worry, be happy," was from Mr. Super Duper Italian Lorenzo. His English wasn't too good so we were having trouble understanding each other but he did know one thing that I did indeed understand, maybe not to the degree I do now, but si capisco, Lorenzo (yes I understand, Lorenzo)..."don't worry, be happy." Hmmm...mi piace (I like that).
The next day my Italian tutor, slashtheboyIlikeahhhh, joked with his friends about the phrase. He didn't know it but it meant a lot to me. I told him he seemed more serious than that, and he just said..in Tarzan english, "No no Gia. You have all wrong. I am very happy person. Life too short...so, don't worry, be HAPPY!!" He made me genuinely smile. You know when you have those moments where you want to freeze time and have that moment forever? What we live for, ya know? It was one of those. Don't worry, be happy...lalala, I truly never want to leave Italians...not Italy...the people.
Sunday's la mensa is closed so we have to figure out dinner on our own. I don't know Silvia or Chiara (the equivalent to a Carrie and Charlotte from Sex and the City...but their New York City is Bologna) very well but since you're famiglia right off the bat with the people here, they knocked on my door and asked Sarah and I if we would like to go to dinner with them and their friends. How sweet is that? We were doing Italian homework and they helped us learn the alphabet too. Such a simple scenario with momentous words...Silvia says, "Gia...don't worry, be happy. Do you know that song?" All I could think was, "Do I ever! It's all I hear!" What is with Italy and this phrase? I think God's sending me little messages...what a good guy.
A psychic told me I would "fall in love" for the first time in Italy...I think I am, but not with a boy, with this country. Because of how there's nothing like it, I have this obsession with experiencing every part of it. The littlest things to someone else are usually the most enchanting things to me...the pronounciation of words here gives me a chill sometimes...swear to God, I feel it course down my spine. These words are music to my ears. So is, "don't worry, be happy," though. What a message, ya know? That we're supposed to be carefree and jovial. We would never guess...it's too simple for the average, busy body American. We forget how important it is to slow down, breathe and enjoy the simple things. The future will take care of itself...right now is all that matters. What we have is what we have...and that's okay. We shouldn't be trying to want more...we should just be happy with what is, because it's all that matters. That goes for friendships, jobs, education, relationships, etc. Somehow everything always works out. Isn't that funny? Yes, you big babies, it's hard getting through things but YOU GET THROUGH. Suck it up and have some fun. What would you rather remember? Being bitter about things that have happened in the past or putting it behind you and doing something silly with your friend so you can talk about it for years to come? Those kinds of things bring the "happiness" this phrase, "don't worry, be happy" speaks of...this effortless disposition comes from knowing the world is good and mother nature will take care of you always. Just laugh with your friends, dream big, and cherish others for who they are, because, in their own way, everyone is beautiful and has something to teach us.
There shouldn't be a "pursuit of happiness." Just be...beautifully be.
Bottom line, I think, "don't worry, be happy," may be some of the wisest words I've ever heard...it's unfortunate it took me coming to Italy to learn this philosophy. But there is no doubt in my mind that I will bring it home with me.
The next day my Italian tutor, slashtheboyIlikeahhhh, joked with his friends about the phrase. He didn't know it but it meant a lot to me. I told him he seemed more serious than that, and he just said..in Tarzan english, "No no Gia. You have all wrong. I am very happy person. Life too short...so, don't worry, be HAPPY!!" He made me genuinely smile. You know when you have those moments where you want to freeze time and have that moment forever? What we live for, ya know? It was one of those. Don't worry, be happy...lalala, I truly never want to leave Italians...not Italy...the people.
Sunday's la mensa is closed so we have to figure out dinner on our own. I don't know Silvia or Chiara (the equivalent to a Carrie and Charlotte from Sex and the City...but their New York City is Bologna) very well but since you're famiglia right off the bat with the people here, they knocked on my door and asked Sarah and I if we would like to go to dinner with them and their friends. How sweet is that? We were doing Italian homework and they helped us learn the alphabet too. Such a simple scenario with momentous words...Silvia says, "Gia...don't worry, be happy. Do you know that song?" All I could think was, "Do I ever! It's all I hear!" What is with Italy and this phrase? I think God's sending me little messages...what a good guy.
A psychic told me I would "fall in love" for the first time in Italy...I think I am, but not with a boy, with this country. Because of how there's nothing like it, I have this obsession with experiencing every part of it. The littlest things to someone else are usually the most enchanting things to me...the pronounciation of words here gives me a chill sometimes...swear to God, I feel it course down my spine. These words are music to my ears. So is, "don't worry, be happy," though. What a message, ya know? That we're supposed to be carefree and jovial. We would never guess...it's too simple for the average, busy body American. We forget how important it is to slow down, breathe and enjoy the simple things. The future will take care of itself...right now is all that matters. What we have is what we have...and that's okay. We shouldn't be trying to want more...we should just be happy with what is, because it's all that matters. That goes for friendships, jobs, education, relationships, etc. Somehow everything always works out. Isn't that funny? Yes, you big babies, it's hard getting through things but YOU GET THROUGH. Suck it up and have some fun. What would you rather remember? Being bitter about things that have happened in the past or putting it behind you and doing something silly with your friend so you can talk about it for years to come? Those kinds of things bring the "happiness" this phrase, "don't worry, be happy" speaks of...this effortless disposition comes from knowing the world is good and mother nature will take care of you always. Just laugh with your friends, dream big, and cherish others for who they are, because, in their own way, everyone is beautiful and has something to teach us.
There shouldn't be a "pursuit of happiness." Just be...beautifully be.
Bottom line, I think, "don't worry, be happy," may be some of the wisest words I've ever heard...it's unfortunate it took me coming to Italy to learn this philosophy. But there is no doubt in my mind that I will bring it home with me.
Friday, January 28, 2011
"Gia's ideas are never good ideas"
When that taxi stopped in front of camplus Alma Mater, I just about peed my pants. Confidently I strolled up to my new house and hugged my RA hello. I got settled in my dorm room and then roamed the campus. I met Italians as well...lots of Italian studenti. More than anything I wanted to walk my new playground...so I did.
Bologna is very different. It's no Roma or Firenzi. The oldest university in Europe is Universita di Bologna so it's a mini New York City, with prettier architecture and crazier drivers. They don't honk at you here...they roll down their window and start yelling and screaming at you. It's hilarious but it's a city I definitely need to grow to love, but I'm sure that'll take place. I'm easy to please. I was supposed to do this typical AIFS program in Rome but I was told you'd feel more like a tourist and not practice the language as much. Although my heart is in Rome, I wanted to do what's truly best for a traveler because, after all, I want an authentic Italian experience and that is exactly what Bologna has to offer. :-)
So, I met some super sweet girls and thought, "Okay I can do this." And with that thought, I was packing my bags again for a town in the Swiss Alps, Interlaken, for orientation. There are no words for the beauty of this town. I have this thought a lot out here..."bellisimo" doesn't cut it when you want to describe these historical monuments and churches...not even "magestic" works...you do the math. This place is AWESOME. Anyways, we were given the option to snowboard in the Swiss Alps. Uh...DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HI MY NAME IS GIA, WHERE DO I GET MY TICKET?
As we were on the train up to Jungfrau, again...I was breathless. I keep having this sensation too...genuinely breathless. Or speechless. Breathless, speechless, not knowing any words that will do the beauty here in Italy justice...I feel it on the daily.
We reached the top of the mountain and I strapped on my board. Today I would be riding solo...and, even though these slopes were steep and I was a little scared, I liked that. I slipped and slided a few times because the snow was icy as hell but whatever, you know that song, "I'm in Miami, bitch?" I'M IN THE SWISS ALPS, BIATCH.
I took the gondola up some slope I didn't even know I could get down from or not. This could be a fiasco, but I'M IN THE SWISS ALPS, BIATCH. I wanted to be everywhere all at once and I didn't care how I got there. I got down the mountain from this slope alright...but I didn't ride my board. I rode my BUTT for this one...you know, for cushion of course. But whatever, right? When I got down, I saw Carolina, the funniest little ball of energy from Miami. It was her first time skiing and what better a place than the Swiss Alps? I told her I wanted to take her on a blue, because in the alps, greens don't exist, so blues are supposed to be "the easiest." And there's only one way to learn, ya know? Might as well try it! Gia's idea #1: Welllllllll...she was down, but she didn't ride it without a story for the grandkids!
We started going down and I was having fun teaching her "pizza" and "french fries" on the blue but I saw it was tough for her to stop. "Pizza" is always hard for beginners. So I said, "let's focus on going slow, so you learn how to control your body." I was in front of her to keep a slow pace and she was focusing, everything was great, and then, Caro wasn't in front of me anymore. HA.
Every time I think of this moment I can't help but laugh. You have to picture this: a beginner trying so hard to do "pizza" to stop and uh, all of a sudden, Caro is SPEEDING past me in her little ski stance, and I'm yelling, "PIZZA, CARO, PIZZAAAA!!" Chyeah...like that helped. Caro's going, going, GONE.
There was this turn...and, well, Caro didn't quite make it. She went airborne into this huge patch of snow, ski's upright and everything. I sped down, partly worried, partly laughing so hard, I could have peed my pants. This little boy yelled, "WOW. THAT-WAS-CRAZY!!! DAADDD, DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!" Poor Caro. I'm telling you, it was QUITE the wipe out. It was like everyone on that slope stopped to see if she was alive. And she was...but let's just say we walked the rest of the slope down and she was done for the day. She turned to me and said, like a little child that's just seen the grim reaper, "Um, Gia...can I just walk the rest of the way down?" I nodded and put my arm around my new friend to calm her down, asking questions to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Poor, poor, Carolina was doing just fine, thank goodness.
We rode the train back to Interlaken...or so we thought. We were basically dumped about 30 minutes from Interlaken and some men said there was no bus to Interlaken from there.
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUH, WHAT? HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET BACK? Think fast, think fast, Gia! Idea #2: HITCH HIKING.
So, picture this one: Carolina and I, in snow pants and jackets, Caro with her ski's and me with my snowboard, on some scenic highway in the Alps with greenery and mountains all around us...with our thumbs up. Here we goooo.
Within 5 minutes, some Audi stops in the middle of the highway and picks us up. Carolina got in the front and I got in the back with the ski's and snowboard. It's a nice fellow. Don't worry, we're not as stupid as you think...we made sure he wasn't in a truck, or a white van, or looked like he could do bodily harm to us..oh and he had two booster seats in the back. A dad! Good sign. Harmless! I guess he also had a criteria for hitch hikers. He told us, after I asked if he picked up hitch hikers often, "Well..usually, no, because hitch hikers tend to smell bad...but you guys didn't look like you smelled bad." Thanks, random Audi driving father, how sweet of you. He helped us get back to our hostel and I couldn't have been anymore thankful. I said I'd pray for him and his family.
We'll end on a good note. At least ONE of my ideas worked out!!! :-)
Bologna is very different. It's no Roma or Firenzi. The oldest university in Europe is Universita di Bologna so it's a mini New York City, with prettier architecture and crazier drivers. They don't honk at you here...they roll down their window and start yelling and screaming at you. It's hilarious but it's a city I definitely need to grow to love, but I'm sure that'll take place. I'm easy to please. I was supposed to do this typical AIFS program in Rome but I was told you'd feel more like a tourist and not practice the language as much. Although my heart is in Rome, I wanted to do what's truly best for a traveler because, after all, I want an authentic Italian experience and that is exactly what Bologna has to offer. :-)
So, I met some super sweet girls and thought, "Okay I can do this." And with that thought, I was packing my bags again for a town in the Swiss Alps, Interlaken, for orientation. There are no words for the beauty of this town. I have this thought a lot out here..."bellisimo" doesn't cut it when you want to describe these historical monuments and churches...not even "magestic" works...you do the math. This place is AWESOME. Anyways, we were given the option to snowboard in the Swiss Alps. Uh...DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HI MY NAME IS GIA, WHERE DO I GET MY TICKET?
As we were on the train up to Jungfrau, again...I was breathless. I keep having this sensation too...genuinely breathless. Or speechless. Breathless, speechless, not knowing any words that will do the beauty here in Italy justice...I feel it on the daily.
We reached the top of the mountain and I strapped on my board. Today I would be riding solo...and, even though these slopes were steep and I was a little scared, I liked that. I slipped and slided a few times because the snow was icy as hell but whatever, you know that song, "I'm in Miami, bitch?" I'M IN THE SWISS ALPS, BIATCH.
I took the gondola up some slope I didn't even know I could get down from or not. This could be a fiasco, but I'M IN THE SWISS ALPS, BIATCH. I wanted to be everywhere all at once and I didn't care how I got there. I got down the mountain from this slope alright...but I didn't ride my board. I rode my BUTT for this one...you know, for cushion of course. But whatever, right? When I got down, I saw Carolina, the funniest little ball of energy from Miami. It was her first time skiing and what better a place than the Swiss Alps? I told her I wanted to take her on a blue, because in the alps, greens don't exist, so blues are supposed to be "the easiest." And there's only one way to learn, ya know? Might as well try it! Gia's idea #1: Welllllllll...she was down, but she didn't ride it without a story for the grandkids!
We started going down and I was having fun teaching her "pizza" and "french fries" on the blue but I saw it was tough for her to stop. "Pizza" is always hard for beginners. So I said, "let's focus on going slow, so you learn how to control your body." I was in front of her to keep a slow pace and she was focusing, everything was great, and then, Caro wasn't in front of me anymore. HA.
Every time I think of this moment I can't help but laugh. You have to picture this: a beginner trying so hard to do "pizza" to stop and uh, all of a sudden, Caro is SPEEDING past me in her little ski stance, and I'm yelling, "PIZZA, CARO, PIZZAAAA!!" Chyeah...like that helped. Caro's going, going, GONE.
There was this turn...and, well, Caro didn't quite make it. She went airborne into this huge patch of snow, ski's upright and everything. I sped down, partly worried, partly laughing so hard, I could have peed my pants. This little boy yelled, "WOW. THAT-WAS-CRAZY!!! DAADDD, DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!" Poor Caro. I'm telling you, it was QUITE the wipe out. It was like everyone on that slope stopped to see if she was alive. And she was...but let's just say we walked the rest of the slope down and she was done for the day. She turned to me and said, like a little child that's just seen the grim reaper, "Um, Gia...can I just walk the rest of the way down?" I nodded and put my arm around my new friend to calm her down, asking questions to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Poor, poor, Carolina was doing just fine, thank goodness.
We rode the train back to Interlaken...or so we thought. We were basically dumped about 30 minutes from Interlaken and some men said there was no bus to Interlaken from there.
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUH, WHAT? HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET BACK? Think fast, think fast, Gia! Idea #2: HITCH HIKING.
So, picture this one: Carolina and I, in snow pants and jackets, Caro with her ski's and me with my snowboard, on some scenic highway in the Alps with greenery and mountains all around us...with our thumbs up. Here we goooo.
Within 5 minutes, some Audi stops in the middle of the highway and picks us up. Carolina got in the front and I got in the back with the ski's and snowboard. It's a nice fellow. Don't worry, we're not as stupid as you think...we made sure he wasn't in a truck, or a white van, or looked like he could do bodily harm to us..oh and he had two booster seats in the back. A dad! Good sign. Harmless! I guess he also had a criteria for hitch hikers. He told us, after I asked if he picked up hitch hikers often, "Well..usually, no, because hitch hikers tend to smell bad...but you guys didn't look like you smelled bad." Thanks, random Audi driving father, how sweet of you. He helped us get back to our hostel and I couldn't have been anymore thankful. I said I'd pray for him and his family.
We'll end on a good note. At least ONE of my ideas worked out!!! :-)
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Is this really happening?
Things always hit me later on, but don't worry, because when they do, I'm entranced.
I woke up on January 14th at 3:30am and was def not feelin' it. 3:30am is just never a good wake up call, right? Even if it's from your mother super excited combing your hair back as you wake up praying for you in spanish but I got my butt out of bed and began the daily routine...brushed my teeth, put on mascara, and put my hair in a comfortable bun, went through the motions. I was about to hop on a plane to Italy and everything was still normal. Finally, when I was eating my cocoa puffs, the ball started rolling. My moment of "holy shit I'm going to Italy!! AHHH!!!" picked up some momentum. I realized this would be the last crap breakfast I'd be having until summer because we all know Italy is the culinary capitol of the world. Another push towards utter excitement - I woke up my little brother, Miklos, to give him a goodbye hug and he says, "I'm so jealous you're going to Italy. You're so lucky." Yeah, he's right. I SHOULD be bouncing off the walls right now...but I'm calm. Now, of course I'm happy about the situation but an experience that has the power to change my life is about to happen and I'm sitting there still talking about the Lakers as if I'm stoned beyond all comprehension of the fact that I'm about to embark on this immense journey, ya know? Miklos says, "I love you Gioconda. Tell me when you get there." I reply, "I will, go back to bed. I love you and have a good day at school today bud." I won't wish him off to school until April. I'M LEAVING. Little by little, I'm getting there.
Nothing at all happened on the plane so I'm not even going to bother telling you about it. I slept. It was great.
"Alrighty folks, this is your pilot speaking. We will be arriving in Frankfurt in 20 minutes." I fastened my seat belt. I looked out my window and saw the bright lights similar to New York city of Frankfurt at night and thought, "uh, what the hell is happening? Gioconda, you're in GERMANY. Guten morgen? Wow..."
Now shit's getting real. Talking to this adorable family from Germany while waiting for the plane to Bologna made me realize just how difficult this whole language barrier thing is going to be. You're in for it, Gioconda. All you know is, "Ciao, bongiorno, and MOLTO BENE." Totally in for it. I prayed at this point. What a whirlwind of emotions this ball carries - from excitement in the morning to terror and lonely in some Frankfurt airport. Don't worry though guys, God took care of me in the form of a cute German boy that spoke very good English. My mom, my brother, my grandma, my stepdad and my friends are all so far away and I felt like I had a companion..at least for a moment, and it was the most comforting feeling. Thank you, God.
Okay everyone, here we go...I'm landing in Bologna. Am I FINALLY going to be jumping up and down in happiness?? Not really actually. I flagged down a cab lugging around my two exactly 50 pound bags, a backpack filled to the brim and a purse with things I don't need. The cab driver, a Lorenzo, didn't speak great English but I couldn't shut up. Lots of excitement at this point. LOTS. WHAT UP, ITALYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?! The song "Bittersweet Symphony" came on and I turned on my camera and took a video of the drive to Via Giovanni Sacco Dodici, Camplus Alma Mater. It summed up the moment perfectly. Summed up my feelings perfectly too. Now, disbelief consumed me. The crackberry doesn't work here, there is no beach, you don't know anyone, and you're still following through with this. I got out of the cab and took a look at my new home...HOLY SHIT I'M IN ITALY!!!! It happened! I strolled up to campus not knowing where to go and didn't even care. I'M IN ITALY, I'M IN ITALY, GIOCONDA'S IN ITALY. THIS ISN'T SCARY ANYMORE. THIS IS GOING TO BE THE GREATEST SEMESTER OF MY LIFE. Bring on any challenges! I'm in Italy...finally. :-)
I woke up on January 14th at 3:30am and was def not feelin' it. 3:30am is just never a good wake up call, right? Even if it's from your mother super excited combing your hair back as you wake up praying for you in spanish but I got my butt out of bed and began the daily routine...brushed my teeth, put on mascara, and put my hair in a comfortable bun, went through the motions. I was about to hop on a plane to Italy and everything was still normal. Finally, when I was eating my cocoa puffs, the ball started rolling. My moment of "holy shit I'm going to Italy!! AHHH!!!" picked up some momentum. I realized this would be the last crap breakfast I'd be having until summer because we all know Italy is the culinary capitol of the world. Another push towards utter excitement - I woke up my little brother, Miklos, to give him a goodbye hug and he says, "I'm so jealous you're going to Italy. You're so lucky." Yeah, he's right. I SHOULD be bouncing off the walls right now...but I'm calm. Now, of course I'm happy about the situation but an experience that has the power to change my life is about to happen and I'm sitting there still talking about the Lakers as if I'm stoned beyond all comprehension of the fact that I'm about to embark on this immense journey, ya know? Miklos says, "I love you Gioconda. Tell me when you get there." I reply, "I will, go back to bed. I love you and have a good day at school today bud." I won't wish him off to school until April. I'M LEAVING. Little by little, I'm getting there.
Nothing at all happened on the plane so I'm not even going to bother telling you about it. I slept. It was great.
"Alrighty folks, this is your pilot speaking. We will be arriving in Frankfurt in 20 minutes." I fastened my seat belt. I looked out my window and saw the bright lights similar to New York city of Frankfurt at night and thought, "uh, what the hell is happening? Gioconda, you're in GERMANY. Guten morgen? Wow..."
Now shit's getting real. Talking to this adorable family from Germany while waiting for the plane to Bologna made me realize just how difficult this whole language barrier thing is going to be. You're in for it, Gioconda. All you know is, "Ciao, bongiorno, and MOLTO BENE." Totally in for it. I prayed at this point. What a whirlwind of emotions this ball carries - from excitement in the morning to terror and lonely in some Frankfurt airport. Don't worry though guys, God took care of me in the form of a cute German boy that spoke very good English. My mom, my brother, my grandma, my stepdad and my friends are all so far away and I felt like I had a companion..at least for a moment, and it was the most comforting feeling. Thank you, God.
Okay everyone, here we go...I'm landing in Bologna. Am I FINALLY going to be jumping up and down in happiness?? Not really actually. I flagged down a cab lugging around my two exactly 50 pound bags, a backpack filled to the brim and a purse with things I don't need. The cab driver, a Lorenzo, didn't speak great English but I couldn't shut up. Lots of excitement at this point. LOTS. WHAT UP, ITALYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?! The song "Bittersweet Symphony" came on and I turned on my camera and took a video of the drive to Via Giovanni Sacco Dodici, Camplus Alma Mater. It summed up the moment perfectly. Summed up my feelings perfectly too. Now, disbelief consumed me. The crackberry doesn't work here, there is no beach, you don't know anyone, and you're still following through with this. I got out of the cab and took a look at my new home...HOLY SHIT I'M IN ITALY!!!! It happened! I strolled up to campus not knowing where to go and didn't even care. I'M IN ITALY, I'M IN ITALY, GIOCONDA'S IN ITALY. THIS ISN'T SCARY ANYMORE. THIS IS GOING TO BE THE GREATEST SEMESTER OF MY LIFE. Bring on any challenges! I'm in Italy...finally. :-)
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