Now I'm Back!

It’s hard to believe, but I have made it back to Italy! It seems like yesterday since I left Ferrara. But then when I started speaking Italian this weekend, I realized I have had eight months of language plummeting! Soon to improve…
The past few days have been a balance beam between crash sleeping and hauling luggage. We finally moved in the Palazzo last night and I think I am starting to recover from the intruding jet lag. I could not believe it was possible for one to be in three countries in less than 24 hours. Needles to say, I do not recommend it! Although London was beautiful, it would be nice to see it with my eyes open. Amanda had just returned from a study abroad program in London, allocating her to be the perfect tour guide. Her sole goal was to keep me awake so that I would sleep when we made it to Rome. I literally wanted to melt into the streets on London. It would have been nice to just lie down, anywhere! During mass at Westminster Abbey I was ever so thankful when there was a call to prayer. This meant that I could close my eyes. J
Upon arriving in Rome I encountered an identify check. I was wrongly mistaken for a French woman, and then soon after asked if I was Filipino. But, I guess I had not opened my mouth yet. “CIAOOOO” Nope, I’m definitely American and Southern to be exact!
Navigating Termini, the train station in Rome, was second nature. It was very unromantic and almost redundant. I was not thrilled when I arrived in Italy, like I was the last year. Nothing was new and mysterious. I knew how to buy a ticket, how to board the train, and what to expect once I left the train station. It was just via Marsiala, the same street I left from on December 17, 2008. There were still funny men in hats trying to sale windup toys of David and overrated statues of the coliseum. This is when I started to worry. Have I made the right decision in returning to Italy? I quickly repelled this question to the back of my brain. In reality, I have 40lbs on my back and pulling another 85lb on wheels. Of course I’m insane! But, soon things will improve; it will feel like home again. The things I did not like about Italy will challenge me and the things that I loved enough to bring me back will become evident. I keep repeating this mantra in my head as we dragged along to find our hostel for the night. At this point, Amanda and I were not alone in out hostel hunt. A young Filipino boy, accompanied by his hesitant Italian friend, was ever so eager to help us find our destination. It first, I was a little cautious of his willingness to help. But, soon under the weight of my luggage I was thankful for this ambition and sure of his good intentions.