Our motto at the palazzo has come to be something along the lines of “make plan, attempt plan, and abandon plan!” This seems a pretty accurate mantra for my weekend. After a certain series of unfortunate events, my weekend in Ferrara did not turn out the way I planned. Christina was supposed to come to Italy, I was supposed to have lunch with a friend, and I was to travel to Verona on Saturday. But after Christina’s abrupt illness and a death of a family member of the friend, I resorted to abandoning the plan. This is when it would be useful to have a plan B. However, I was unprepared without a plan B. Because of this, I did a lot of sitting around staring at the wall. This was totally absurd, completely out of my character. I found myself alone, a state of being very eccentric for someone who lives with twelve women. I was provided with plenty of time to reflect on the four months I spent in Ferrara last fall. My weekend seemed so lonely, devoid of the Americans whom I spent most of my time with in Ferrara. It is easy to fall in love with a city alongside people who share the same gratification in its attraction. However to return without these people is a whole different narrative. Alternatively I am not one to live in the past. I have great memories but am also constantly creating new ones. I have discovered that it is never the physical location that makes a moment special, but rather the people whom with you share the moment. I think I described it best in my journal from last fall. Here is an excerpt from when I was preparing to leave Ferrara to spend Christmas in Germany. For the sake of veracity, I have not changed anything about what I wrote last December. In this moment I must have been feeling so many emotions. What astonishes me is that even almost a year later, I still feel the same way.
December 19, 2008
Flexibility: This is what I have learned from living in a foreign country. When the train starts to take off and you’re not on it, you have to be willing to wait an hour for the next one. When the bus drops you off on the sidewalk and drives away with the man carrying your Christmas tree, you just have to laugh. And even when you’re new culture conforms to your biggest pet peeve, you must be flexible as rubber band ball.
It feel like I woke up today in a paradox universe. I’m confronted with so many questions and so much anxiety about leaving my new home. But where actually is home? Maybe Ferrara is just home because of the people here that I have come to love so dearly. As they leave one by one to return to the United States, I realize that my turn is soon to come. Winnie the Pooh told Piglet something that I find myself thinking of in times as these. He said, “If you live to be a hundred, I hope that I live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live a day without you.” As glad as I am to be in Italy for a few short weeks longer, I am distressed that my American friends will not be here with me. As I bike around Ferrara, I know some of the most precious things in Italy I have taken for granted. My friends and I often have reality check moments. When you are sitting on the steps of the cathedral having a drink and talking with friends, it is almost necessary to take a moment and look around. I think to myself, I’m in sitting in front of a fourteenth century building as if it is normal to be surrounded by such wonders. I have become accustom to cobblestone paved streets and bikes creating Monday morning traffic jams on my way to school. Soon I am in for a major culture shock.
As the train pulls out of the station, I wave goodbye to my home of four months. I leave so much behind, including some old clothes and raggedy exercise gear. However, I know that I have left something more special. A piece of me will always remain in Ferrara. It is in this place I have made friendships that will last a lifetime and memories that are stamped on the pages of heart. In two weeks time, I will return to collect my luggage and catch a flight back to the United States. I’m afraid that even after two weeks it will not be the same in Ferrara. I will not walk into my apartment and pick up the phone to call a friend. Christina will not be there to have afternoon coffee and make whipped cream cookie towers with me. Mike will not be around to pacify my culinary cravings with his Ragu. Ellie and Kate will not be drinking frizzantino from Interspar or heaven forbid boxed wine. And as I welcome the hospitality of my dear friends Sonia and Federico, I know Loba Loca will not be the same without my crazy American friends.
Nicole
December 19, 2008
Flexibility: This is what I have learned from living in a foreign country. When the train starts to take off and you’re not on it, you have to be willing to wait an hour for the next one. When the bus drops you off on the sidewalk and drives away with the man carrying your Christmas tree, you just have to laugh. And even when you’re new culture conforms to your biggest pet peeve, you must be flexible as rubber band ball.
It feel like I woke up today in a paradox universe. I’m confronted with so many questions and so much anxiety about leaving my new home. But where actually is home? Maybe Ferrara is just home because of the people here that I have come to love so dearly. As they leave one by one to return to the United States, I realize that my turn is soon to come. Winnie the Pooh told Piglet something that I find myself thinking of in times as these. He said, “If you live to be a hundred, I hope that I live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live a day without you.” As glad as I am to be in Italy for a few short weeks longer, I am distressed that my American friends will not be here with me. As I bike around Ferrara, I know some of the most precious things in Italy I have taken for granted. My friends and I often have reality check moments. When you are sitting on the steps of the cathedral having a drink and talking with friends, it is almost necessary to take a moment and look around. I think to myself, I’m in sitting in front of a fourteenth century building as if it is normal to be surrounded by such wonders. I have become accustom to cobblestone paved streets and bikes creating Monday morning traffic jams on my way to school. Soon I am in for a major culture shock.
As the train pulls out of the station, I wave goodbye to my home of four months. I leave so much behind, including some old clothes and raggedy exercise gear. However, I know that I have left something more special. A piece of me will always remain in Ferrara. It is in this place I have made friendships that will last a lifetime and memories that are stamped on the pages of heart. In two weeks time, I will return to collect my luggage and catch a flight back to the United States. I’m afraid that even after two weeks it will not be the same in Ferrara. I will not walk into my apartment and pick up the phone to call a friend. Christina will not be there to have afternoon coffee and make whipped cream cookie towers with me. Mike will not be around to pacify my culinary cravings with his Ragu. Ellie and Kate will not be drinking frizzantino from Interspar or heaven forbid boxed wine. And as I welcome the hospitality of my dear friends Sonia and Federico, I know Loba Loca will not be the same without my crazy American friends.
Nicole
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