Coming Home

It’s hard to believe that it’s been more than a year since I first came to Italy. This time last year I had finished my English teaching certification program and was looking for a job, anticipating my parent’s visit for Christmas. So many things have happened since…

Rome finally feels like home, although every so often there is a culture clash and I feel again like a fish out of water. For instance, I’ve been waiting for an internet connection at the house for over a month. After they finally got it connected, they informed me that they couldn’t send me a wireless router because they were working on the network - as if those two things were remotely related. Today I have a very fast internet connection in my house… that I can’t connect to. In the States, yelling at someone might make a difference. Here it would get me a few choice words and a dial tone.

I was in New York a few weeks ago. That fact sort of got lost (and rightly so) in the wash as shortly after we lost Anabella. Coming back from such a great trip to such a sudden depression was quite the psychological mind-job. I couldn’t think of anything bad about my trip when on the plane home, and after the news of Anabella I couldn’t think of anything good about it. Fringe friends knew only of the trip and asked how beautiful it was (New York is a sort of Mecca for the Italians). What do you say at that point? Death is sort of an all consuming thing that renders you in altered state of consciousness. The fact of living in a different culture and speaking in a different language is in of itself a bit disconcerting, a bit dreamlike. So dealing with this loss was like being an orange under-foot, trying to hold it together. New York didn’t seem like it really happened, and it certainly couldn’t have been fun. Not now.

But it was fun. In my mind I know that I had a great time, and my defense mechanisms are finally easing, finally letting me see things as they really are. I finally got to speak with Anabella’s family, and that was a big turning point for me. Despite their tremendous grief, they were very strong in their belief that Anabella was doing God’s will by being in Italy and were very proud of her for following her dream. They emphasized the sovereignty of God and told me they were moving forward by His grace. There was a lot of beauty in that. Something about knowing that the family had such a healthy perspective helped me to unclench my fists. From that day it’s been easier to let go, to trust that it is as it should be.

I’ve recently been able to move back into a life more normal. My thoughts aren’t so often consumed, and they turn back now to coming home. Despite being in NYC for those four days in November, it’s really been since April since I’ve been home home. Also, when I was in New York, I was constantly speaking Italian with my boss and his wife, so it didn’t seem like really being in the US.

I guess it would be useful to explain why I was there at all. My agency has an office in New York, and the woman who manages that office will soon be returning to Italy to be with two of her children that now live here. As New York is really expensive, we had to decide whether we wanted to send someone from our office to keep it running (possibly me, for three to six months starting in February), or to shut it down. In the end, I acted as more of an interpreter than anything else, about which I’m not complaining. Four days vacation in the Big Apple (a nickname which absolutely no one could explain to us) isn’t half bad.

What’s even better is that I got to see Rochelle Lau, Nadia Abji, and, wonder of wonders, even Christy Hunt (for about five minutes at McDonald’s in not-Times Square. She was taking a minute to treat her Italian friends to some fine American cuisine [since they aren’t likely to find McDonald’s anywhere else]).

Rochelle, a friend of mine from LA (Venice Beach) is currently rocking through nursing school at NYU. I felt privileged to spend some quality time with her since she only hangs out with Asian people.

Nadia, a friend from high school, despite playing it down as “just doing my job,” is a producer for MTV. Despite what she says, I’m really proud of her because I think it’s amazing! (It helps being a music junkie [as if that’s what they actually play on Music Television]). Anyway, her parents were in
town for the weekend so we just had time to grab a drink together. But it was nice to see her too.

So despite having these connections with old friends, I was still on vacation in a strange place, so it didn’t really feel like being home. I’m wondering now if there WILL be a bit of culture shock re-entering my own country. I’ll even admit it. I feel sort of disgusted doing so, but after twelve months of pizza and pasta, I really do miss Taco Bell… and what I wouldn’t give for a Mountain Dew right now!

It’s normal that my friends and family won’t be able to relate to the cultural differences I experiences here, nor would it be interesting to get a play-by-play of every subtle nuance of the daily routine, so I imagine I’ll be playing little mind games with myself for a few days before I get settled in.

By the way, I’ll be in KC from the night of the 9th until the 22nd, when we head for Fort Collins to see my sister and her newborn baby! (She’s due on the 17th.) I fly out of Denver on the 26th.

I was going to write more, but my train has reached its destination. I'll have to post more later. Love you guys!