Roots & Wings

So here we are. I'm 24 blog posts in and my trip is two weeks from being over.

what can you do

when the curtain falls

what will you do

when the curtain falls

you'll

left, right

I've been listening to "After the Curtain" by Beirut a lot lately and I think it's because it's so relevant to my situation right now. Things are almost over- what way am I going to go now? Now that everything is ending, what direction am I going to choose?

Going out to dinner with a friend tonight really got me thinking about the things I'm going to miss the most (and the things I'm not really going to miss) about living here. I'm sure after a month of being home again I'm going to kick myself for saying this, but I think at this point a big part of me is ready to go home.

Let's start with the not-so-missable stuff first!

I'm not going to miss being bumped into every time I walk on the street. I'm not going to miss how this city completely ate all my shoes. I'm not going to miss how everything seems like it's a struggle here; there's no such thing as convenience. You want a special ingredient for cooking? You need a certain medicine? Sorry, you're pretty much SOL. I'm not going to miss not having any personal space. I'm not going to miss the stupid Ryan Air announcement when your flight arrives on time! I'm not going to miss having to take an Italian class. I'm not going to miss how every time I want to buy something, I have to do a conversion of dollars to euros in my head, or the damn mosquitos, or almost getting hit by a bus everyday. And I'm not going to miss the fact that everything in our apartment is slowly (but surely) falling apart!

But there are a lot of things I'm going to miss.

I'm going to miss the 80 people that I've seen almost every day for the past 10 months. I'm going to miss the ease of traveling to a completely different country. I'm going to miss the trattoria across the street from the De Neri house and the gorgonzola gnocchi. I'm going to miss our weekly Thursday dinners! I'm going to miss being able to see the Duomo from my apartment. I'm going to miss walking up to Piazza Michelangelo whenever I needed a minute alone to think. I'm going to miss dreaming about where my next vacation is going to be. I'm going to miss just how awesome our apartment really is (even though everything is old). I'm going to miss being able to get my family stuff from the places I go. I'm going to miss recognizing the street performers. I'm going to miss rocking out to karaoke at Old Stove. I'm going to miss my 2 euro/month texting plan! I'm going to miss cooking for people. I'm going to miss Jiuliano at Il Teatro who always gives me free champagne whenever I pass by. I'm going to miss all of the construction workers looking like Roman Gods. I'm going to miss not stressing about being a little late to my classes sometimes- because honestly the professors just don't care!

I'm going to miss..... a lot, actually.

But I guess all good things have to come to an end, right? As of this week I've tied up all the loose ends that I wanted to tie up, which makes me feel a lot better about leaving. I was worried that I wouldn't get to say all of the things that I wanted to say; but I did. It's a good feeling.

When it all comes down to it, I'm proud of the things I've done here. I'm proud of the experiences I've had, I'm proud of how much I learned about myself and about other people, and I'm proud of all the things that I've seen. Three continents before 21 isn't bad!

So, until after finals!

Ciao.

Morning Revelation

I promised myself that I wouldn't do this again, and I'm not going to. Moving on; that's all you can do.

How it ends

I'd like to think that I've made an impression on this city; or, at least, that this city has made an impression on me. I've been here for long enough that I've started to recognize some of the main players. There's the guy with the accordion, who is on a different street corner every time I see him. The tall man with two prosthetic legs who I always see walking down the street. That African Immigrant who always tries to shake my hand and sell me books on the way to school. The guy in the newsstand who is there from sun up to sun down. The lady at the Cafe by school who hasn't liked me ever since I came in and was talking to her son. The man that works at Il Teatro who's name I still don't remember even though he gives me free champagne every time I order a Margherita pizza to go. And then there's the woman at the flower stand, the security guard at the bank I pass when I'm going to teach my kids, the fans who stand outside the soccer stadium waiting for the players to come out of practice, and the lady at the 99 cent store who I haven't seen in a while.

Everyone has their place. Everyone is somebody to this city, and I guess it's that way with most things. It makes me wonder who I am? I'm probably seen as the crazy girl who's always wearing flip flops in the rain. Yup, sounds about right.

It even works the same way with the kids at my school. There's the class clown, the guy who's always late, the girl who is pretty on the outside but not so nice on the inside. The girl who tries to fit in, the guy who tries to fit in. The quiet ones who are really funny when you get to know them, the person who tries to direct everything, the Player.

Even though we all know each other better by now, it all comes down to superlatives.

It's funny, though, I know that I'm more than my "title." I'm more than "biggest flirt," more than the girl who wears flip flops. I'm sure everyone else feels the same way too. It makes me think that maybe we should take more time to get to know people before we put a label on them. Before we classify them as something and refuse to see them as anything more than that. People don't fit neatly inside of a box, it doesn't work that way. And maybe we should start giving people more credit instead of being so quick to judge.

Yeah.