Italy Blog – Day One 9/13/09
Clearly I was running away from something (or somethings) rather than running towards he/she/it. I should have been more excited to move to Italy for three months, but my head was swimming with fine details, not to mention the bigger details of packing up an entire house and storing it while I was gone. I shed not a single tear when I said goodbye to my friends, my parents, and my old life. I was just plain tired. The 18 hour journey from 9 PM my time 18 hours later to 7 PM Torino time lay ahead and I had no energy for it. I think my mind had left the country 4 months prior when I decided to undertake this quest for a new identity and life, leaving my body behind to whine and rot until it catches up.
I arrived with my head in a fog. I was better than this, I told myself. I can ask for a ticket with confidence…I had done it before, but for some reason I truly felt like a foreigner with only judgmental and disdainful eyes upon me. I kept thinking to myself that this must be what it feels like to be an immigrant to America, with our need for ironclad adherence to the ways of the white anglo-saxon, who speaks only English. But at last I arrived, exhausted, not excited, with only the thought of non-airplane food and a soft bed awaiting me. I met my friend MD and her husband but briefly, (they were jetting off to Brussells) and then it was off with “Crazy Roommate” (or “CR”) to the new flat in the “Pre Collina” of Torino.
I was shy, moreso than I thought I would be. I had lived alone for over two years, and the thought of sharing, being chatty, cleaning, and being considerate again was an anathema to me. We had pizza at her favorite pizza place, but the communication was difficult. I had not had any sugar or caffeine for three days…it was a problem. I attempted very hard to bring forth happy Daniel, the one who you would want to be roomies with, but I just could not do it.
Quite frankly, my brain was spinning out of control with all the Italian it was being forced to digest so quickly, especially when we met up with two of her friends and I stood there like an idiot attempting desperately to understand every twentieth word they were saying. The apartment is cute, but small of course by Atlanta standards, but that was to be expected. I feel asleep at last, with the thought of “what on earth are you doing here!” in my head. I answered myself in the coming days with “that is what you are here to find out.”……