La Dolce Vita di Kierea: Ciao Ciao Italia! Mi mancherai :)

It is 4:47am and I am lying in my bed back home in Washington. I have been trying to fall back asleep for the last hour or so...I thought that jetlag would make me want to sleep all the time, but I've hardly slept since I left Italy. I woke up at 6am Monday morning, got ready and headed to the airport in Rome with Diego. My first plane ride was 10 hours (in which time I watched 4 1/2 movies) and second was 6 hours. My total travel time with layovers, car rides, and whatnot was 26 hours. I slept 2 of them. While I wish I could sleep more than the 3 hours I slept tonight, I figure, since I'm up that I might as well get caught up on the blog.

My last week in Italy was wonderful—not because it was a crazy week of traveling or anything, but more so because it was normal. And I guess normal is a relative term, one that should probably never be used to describe Italy...so I suppose relaxed is a better descriptor. I got to spend time relaxing with friends and enjoying the place I've called home for the last three months. It's wonderful to get to the point where you really do start thinking of the place you live as home, but it does make it that much harder to leave...I think back to my first day in Rome; I arrived on my birthday and was amazed by the city, beyond excited to eat gelato, and completely unsure of what the next three months of my life would hold. I'd gone to Italy alone, had no friends, and accidently ordered my first pizza by saying, 'Posso andare quello pizza?' which means 'Can I go to that pizza?" I couldn't figure out the train/metro/bus system or how to get the sink to turn on so I could wash my hands in public restrooms (you press a lever with your foot, tricky little buggar). Italians knew I was American from a mile away and I blushed half the time when someone would kiss me on the cheeks for a greeting. I can't say I don't still make my fair share of mistakes when I speak Italian (like when I was telling a story, and accidently started talking about saliva...oh mamma mia), but after three months, so much has changed. I am still amazed by the city and I am always excited to eat gelato, but now I know my way around—I know the best places to get gelato (right near the Spanish steps), I can order pizza correctly and carry on a conversation with just about anyone. I know the metro system like the back of my hand and can talk a street vendor down to a cheap price like no one's business. People don't initially assume I'm American, and I am proud to say that, of all the people on my plane ride home, I looked least American (In typical Italian fashion, I was dressed up and in heels; I wasn't thinking about the fact that I would be flying back to the States with a bunch of Americans wearing running shorts and flip flops...). Most importantly though, I made friends in Italy—great friends who have impacted me more than they will ever know know and whom I truly love (Te voglio bene!).

That week I finished up my interviews for my research—it seems so strange to be done. I remember when I first got to Italy and started talking with people and researching premarital relationships and courting. I constantly told myself, 'Nothing is better or worse [in Italy or the States] just different.' But I didn't believe it, not really—everything was a comparison in my mind. Now, I often find myself thinking more like an Italian; I feel like I not only love the culture, but I understand it. My mind has really been opened and I'm excited to see how my cultures will merge being back in the States.

I spent two of my last days just enjoying Rome; I love how I've been there for such a long time and how it hasn't lost one ounce of its magic. I've been to the Colosseum a dozen times, but its massiveness never seems any less impressive. I felt like I could take the time actually enjoy the city, not being like a tourist in a rush to get pictures of all the amazing monuments. I actually didn't really take pictures. I just went to my favorite places and enjoyed being in the moment. I ate my favorite gelato (coco, biscotta, & panna cotta from Marriotti) on the Spanish Steps and watched people experience Rome for the first time. I said goodbye to Piazza Venezia (where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is) and made my last wish (for now) in the Trevi Fountain (Don't fret, it was a good one!).

Colosseum. Rome, Italy

Inside the Colosseum with Malia!

The Spanish Steps; Aka: the best place to enjoy gelato :)

My Favorite Gelataria in Rome

I got to enjoy some delicious Italian pizza and spend a night on the La Dispole beach with friends—the things I will miss the most about Rome, and Italy in general. Yes, the monuments are amazing and seeing the world is a wonderful thing, but what's the point of doing wonderful things if you don't have anyone to share it with? I absolutely hated saying goodbye to everyone. I had this random urge to just run out without having to deal with any of it, but fought that urge and the building lump in my throat, and was able to get stocked up on kisses (cheek kisses:) before heading to the States. I was glad that I'd written everyone notes because it was almost too hard to say what I wanted to say to them out-loud. It's funny—I feel like a couple days before I left I was dreading it, but then I felt ready...it wasn't until Sunday that the sad feeling hit me. It's strange to leave a place and people and not know when you will ever see them again... I feel like I already miss the little things the most. I miss eating dinner with my host family, Mara and Diego (host mom and brother). I miss Diego judging every recipe I made with a number value from 1 to 10 (and never giving me higher than an 8.5!). I miss going to institute, I miss making last minute decisions and hopping on a train to the city of my choice, I miss not understanding all of the Italian humor, and not having anyone understand that there is a state, and not just a city, named Washington. And obviously, I miss the people the most. I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to spend three months of my life racking up such wonderful memories and having such a life changing experience. I feel like I will tell stories about this summer until the day I die. Words fail to adequately describe the amazing experiences I have had living in Italy. I left a piece of my heart there and I truly believe that going there—uncertainties and all—was one of the best decisions I have ever made, and one that has already changed my life for the better. Mi mancherai!