I am sitting at St. Peter’s Square for the last time during
my study abroad trip. I leave in several hours, and I am very sad. I start to
cry. I will miss this place that shaped me and changed me. I stare at the
detail of this plaza, of each statue, of the 5,000 year old Eygptian obelisk and at the columns that create the
boundaries of the square, containing all the people in one place. I grew and flourished within these massive,
marble columns that surround the plaza. I pushed the boundaries of my comfort
zone against the Roman Walls that enclose this ancient city. To these columns,
to these walls protecting me, I am indebted.
I watch the tourists
go into the church and I watch them leave, eyes and hands occupied by their
dying camera batteries. They come and they go, visitors in a foreign land. But
I have found my home here in this foreign place, and I do not want to leave.
My life the past 4 months has been like living in Disney
World with all its glory. Except that I have witnessed the splendor of the real
world with real people. The natural wonders I’ve seen have stirred my soul. The
man made monuments have left me in awe. My respect for man and all his
accomplishments has deepened. The people I met, the friends I made, have
touched me with their kindness and authenticity.
It will be hard to go back to a small town, where people
live like Kings and Queens in a trite world that revolves around them selves. The
world is so much bigger, so much older than one person’s mere existence. This
trip has taught me I am weak in my perceived invincibility. I’ve grown in
confidence and independence, while realizing that there is one God who controls
the universe and I am not it. I am one
person among the billions and billions of people with different cultures,
lifestyles and religions. I noticed that no matter where I was, or the language
barrier that existed, there was a general human spirit of kindness. People welcomed us and helped us whenever
needed!
You often hear that foreigners hate Americans. Fortunately,
I did not find this to be the truth. Rather, everybody wants to be
American!!!!! After traveling to 12 different countries I can honestly say that
I am blessed to be a citizen of what the world considers to be one incredible
country. Knowing that I am returning to the best country on earth will make
leaving Italy a small bit easier. I realize how fortunate I am to have been
born in the United States with a pursuable American dream.
Foreigners view America as this far off land that they can
reach if they work hard enough, if they save up enough money and play their
cards right (get a hard-to-come by American visa, apply for citizenship etc.) The closest comparison to how they view the
United States is how we view heaven. A place of beauty and perfect happiness,
but un obtainable without hard work. How blessed we are to live in this
Heaven!!!! Do you know that?? We as Americans are so blessed with such a
thriving country with a unique system of government designed for the people. Sometimes it seems that
America has forgotten who it is when who it is is exceptional. I hope we remember
the voice our founding father’s intended, we the people have, and that we work
to preserve this country so that it may continue to be a beacon of hope in the
world!
A typical conversation with an Italian or a Spaniard or a
Hungarian would be:
Me: I love your country! It is so beautiful!
Foreigner: Thank you. I like your country too.
Me: Have you been to the United States?”
Foreigner: No. But I want.
Me: You should come!
Foreigner: (Sighing deeply) I would love to! But it is so
hard! Very difficult to get a visa. Italy it’s beautiful land, but America it’s
a beautiful country. I want to go
very bad. Some day……
Italy it has these protests that clutter the streets with hundreds
of people clamoring to be heard. They find something to protest bi monthly, but
despite their banners and megaphones, nobody hears them. How futile their
protests are! They serve only to block the streets creating chaos that hundreds
of policemen seek to control The amount of police force utilized to keep peace
at these frequent protests is ridiculous. I personally witnessed numerous
protests and strikes, and while I didn’t know what they were chanting I knew
the people were angry. So angry and fed up with Italy’s 13% un employment among
many other issues plaguing the young Italian State….
I thought I’d give a list of my favorite countries from
least to greatest:
I loved Spain because it captures the eye. I loved France
because it entices the mind. I loved Italy because it ignites the soul.
The architect in Spain, specifically Barcelona, captivated
my attention. I would walk the streets keeping my head up, constantly looking
around afraid I would miss something! The artwork in the Sofia
and Prado museums in Madrid enthralled my eyes. I felt like such a more well
rounded individual after leaving Madrid. From Donatello’s classic Renaissance
art to Picasso’s progressive modern art, I enjoyed learning about and comparing
the different styles. I also loved the tapas!! (small appetizers) My favorite
was simply small pieces of bread served with slabs of recently sliced meat. Delicious!
Especially when served with a large glass of sangria!!
The history of Paris immensely intrigued me. I watched the
history unfold in many of the art pieces of the Louvre. I sensed the city’s
past triumphs and tribulations just walking the streets. The architecture by
the river was neat and clean-very Parisian. The architecture on the outskirts
of the city was dirty and run down-very Parisian. The waiters at one restaurant
were rude offering snide comments, the waiters at the next were pleasant
offering free water and bread to poor college students. Marie Antoinette’s
words, “let them eat cake” still ring through the city, reminding you of the
revolutions France has endured. The bells of Notre Dame ring reminding you that
Paris was the birthplace of gothic architecture. The miles of vendors alongside
the river selling classic books remind you of the enlightened philosophers who
once studied in the city. Paris, it calls you back because it is a city that
still has so much more unlearned…
Italy.
Italy isn't a country for the weak. The women are loud and fiesty.
They tell you exactly what they want to tell you without regards to how it will
make you feel or what you were talking about. A typical conversation with an
Italian would be:
Italian person (pretending to be interested in you) how do you like
Italy so far
Me-it's okay. I like all the parks because I can run in them
and it's so nice to get away from the chaotic city center and just relax with a
run in the woods. Like some people go to museums for peace and quiet but I
prefer the outdoors to see pretty things in real life
Italian person-have you been to the Capitoline museum in the city
center? You must go! It's so worth the 9 euros and the art work is amazing. Oh
sorry somebody's calling me I gotta take this CIAO Kirsten I'm glad you are
loving Rome!!!!
While Italian people may speak at you, Italian food speaks straight
to the soul. One of my favorites was pasta carbonara, an olive oil and bacon
special of Rome. Italian olive oil is pungent, almost spicy. When I returned to
the states and had SAMs brand olive oil here I thought it had been diluted with
water.
Of course all the churches in Italy touch the soul with their beauty and massiveness. I realized
I had gone to mass with pope Francis for 3 consecutive weeks. I saw him six
times when I was in Rome! Rome offers a safe haven from the rest of the secular
world, but only to those open to changing and wanting to pursue their Christian
faith. I noticed that frequently about my traveling: nothing is handed to
you. Excitement, experiences, friendships, laughter,
love, confidence, cheerfulness- you must work for these things. You create the study abroad
experience you want to have.
There is a beautiful world out there, and for those who want it, it's there.
There is a beautiful world out there, and for those who want it, it's there.
You could easily inhabit a beautiful, enormous city like Rome and be
miserable, because you haven't made the effort to discover the city in all it's
layers. You have to embrace Rome and all it has to offer-from it's dirty metro
cars and pestering gypsies who pester you relentlessly, to the magnificent Trevi fountain and the kind
local baker who always gave me a soft smile. Even though the baker woman and I
hardly ever dialogued in either of our languages, she always smiled at me, her
way of extending a greeting across a wide language gap. It was waking up in the
morning and purchasing my croissant from a smiling face and then deciding I
wanted to do my morning run to the colosseum just because I could that helped
me have an invigorating abroad experience.
Truly I have no regrets. When I wanted a conolo(singular for conoli) I got it. And not
from the place downstairs that made mediocre conoli, but at the Sicilian bakery
two miles away, just because I could. When I wanted to go to St. Peter's
basillica (largest and one of the oldest churches in the world) for some
peaceful quiet time, I walked the 3 miles there because I could. Usually I
would take the long way off the main road and I would stop for a cappuccino or
a pastry or both along the way, because I could. After class on Mondays when my friend, Ryan and I had the option to go back to our apartments and stare at the same four walls, or explore the city, we chose to wander the city, ending up at a different place each week. When it was ten pm at night
and I wanted to go to the Trevi fountain but nobody else did, I went alone because I
could. Usually I would also wander another 3/4 miles to the pantheon and
watch the musicians playing under the ancient dome, and listen to the cello as it echoed through the square. If it got to be too late to walk back alone, I always knew that bus 62
would take me on home.
Everything I did on my trip, I did because I could. I felt
incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to be in Rome and to travel Europe.
I knew I had to grasp that opportunity or it would slip away, without me ever
knowing what I had missed out on. I tried not to miss out on anything, I strived to claim every opportunity simply because I could.
I think knowing I have no regrets about my experience, makes
returning home a little easier. I accomplished what I was not aware could be
accomplished-I didn't just see the world from the eyes of a tired tourist, but
I put my weariness aside in order to experience the world with an enthusiastic
heart.
To my parents and grandparents, I am grateful. Thank you for giving
me the world.
I will always remember my time spent in Rome. My legacy will
stay on in the Eternal City with the professors who instructed me, with the
bakers who fed me. My footsteps are engraved on the cobble stone streets
throughout the city. My footprints are stamped on the trails I explored on my
daily runs. They remain on the familiar
path to school each morning-pastthe Chinese Restaurant, past the outdoor
markets, past the gypsy woman holding the door outside the church in hopes
for a few coins, past Romana the best gelato in Rome, past the pizza shops,
past the British Embassy, the Indian Embassy and finally arriving at Lorenzeo
De Medici. My school. So though I return to the United States, a foreigner in a
familiar land, a part of Rome lives on with me and I with it.
