Finally Home

After 6 long weeks of bouncing around Europe, I finally arrived in Roma to start this next adventure.  My heart was all a flutter as I rode the metro to my apartment (well, shared with a bunch of people, but my room).  Finally I could stop carrying around all my belongings in a backpack and actually unpack.  Too bad for my arms though - I was getting some nice biceps.  

As I neared my apartment building a woman blocked my path, trying to sell me tissues in the middle of the sidewalk.  Yep, I'm home in Roma.  

I promptly hopped in the shower to wash off all the train crazies, and to my pleasant surprise it is a 'raining' shower head! I've always wanted one, so I am pretty excited.  The apartment can hold up to 7 people, but Francesco said it usually isn't full.  For the month of August it is just me and Gersica (from Mozambique) because everyone is on vacation.  The apartment has three bathrooms, a washing machine, microwave (yeah!), flat screen tv in the common room, wifi, and air conditioning .  All of that is fantastic, but what really cooks my pasta noodle is my room.  The room itself is nothing special - two twin beds, two closets, a desk - but the balcony and windows make it my favorite room in the apartment.  The desk faces these two massive windows.  The view is at the same time pretty and entertaining.  My room faces the other apartment buildings (but I can also see a lot of sky and some tree's).  This way I can watch all the Italians go about their life, 'rear window' style.  I hear Mama's yelling at their bambini, watch women hanging up their sheets (or granny panties) on the rooftop terraces, and smell the wafting aroma of Nonna cooking some calamari. I love it.  

I promptly passed out on the sheet I bought in Germany for just this purpose, then woke after 5 hours still groggy.  Don't judge - I didn't sleep the night before, remember? I went to the grocery store and was just so exhausted I did not want to speak another language. Everything just seemed so difficult, and I began to think I am in way over my head. 

The next day I was ready to go, and decided to do a grand tour of the city as a welcome home.  I hopped on the metro two blocks from my apartment at Furio Camillo and timed how far I am from everything. 10 minutes from Termini Station.  15 minutes from the Spanish Steps. Less than 20 minutes from the Vatican.  I grabbed some Old Bridge to celebrate my return to Rome (at the request of Allie).  Cioccolato, fragola, banana.  I took my first lick and OH. My. Goodness.  I forgot how fantastic gelato was.  It really is like nothing else in the world.  Frozen, delectable goodness in a cone, the far superior sibling in the frozen treat family.  It should have its own family. Secondo me, it does, and each branch of the family is indicated by gelateria. Old Bridge, Giolitti, Del Teatro, Grom, Carabe, etc. I said hello to the Vatican and stared in amazement at the hordes of tourists.  August is such an odd phenomenon in Rome.  All of the Romans are gone, and at least a third of all stores are closed.  This gives the residential areas of the city a very abandoned feel.  When I got on the metro at my stop, only 2 people got on with me, in the middle of the day.  Very unusual.  However when I neared the tourists areas, mass hysteria stuck and I was swarmed by sweaty people with large cameras.  

I walk along minding my own business, until suddenly I'm surrounded by people all wearing the same outfit.  What is it with people on tours thinking a matching outfit is the only way you will stay together?  You look ridiculous. The hats and fanny packs really cross the line.  The Vatican is packed.  I think I want to do a photo comparison of Rome in August, and Rome in the Fall.  They are vastly different places.

My walk takes me about 5 hours, and these are some of the sights I greeted: Vatican, Hadrians Tomb, Piazza Navona, Pantheon, Largo di Torre Argentina, Piazza Venezia, Roman Forum, Colosseum, St. John Lateran.  It was a very far walk.  This journey also had an ulterior motive - to find a pillow case and a sheet.  However, there is no Target or Walmart or Bed Bath & Beyond, and I'm beginning to think Italians just don't sleep, because I can't find una biancheria.  Oh yes, you have to go to a special sheets store.  I search all over this city, and am starting to get really frustrated.  Eventually I find some (on sale!) and call it a day.  They even match my other sheet, so it must be a sign.  

The next day I walk by the guy with his one-person market outside of my apartment.  He is selling pillowcases and sheets.  In shock and frustration, I look at these.  While he starts offering me prices, I ask if he is here every day. Si.  Hmm - I distinctly remember someone selling toy trains and underwear here yesterday. He says it is a different product every day.  Because that makes so much sense.

I've waited a few days to write this post because I needed to get into the right mindset.  I've been swinging back and forth between blissfully happy and ridiculously anxious these past few days, and if I was anxious the post would be depressing.  One night I was seriously questioning my sanity and getting very worked up about the job situation, since nothing seemed to be coming together.  At the exactly right time I got an email from my Dad saying 'Don't give up.'  It was exactly what I needed to hear.  I also got an email from my friend Kat, and she just said so many positive and flattering things it couldn't help but put me in a better mood (I know I still need to write back Kat!).  Thank you so much to everyone else who sends me fantastic emails, I really enjoy them :)

On Friday I was researching work and financial information and just got overwhelmed.  This whole idea of moving to Rome just for kicks seemed ridiculous, and I even went so far as to figure out how to change my flight.  I couldn't focus on any positives, and didn't really understand what I was doing or how I would function for the next few months.  I could not form rational thoughts.  Then in a moment of blissful clarity I realized "Oh, I'm panicking."  So that's what panicking is like.  I never panic or get too worked up (except when I'm angry, but that's passion so it's ok), so this was an entirely new concept for me.  I decided to just ride out the anxiety, because tomorrow would be better.

It's odd that freedom is freaking me out.  All through college I took the max amount of credit hours and worked as much as possible, while being involved in a billion campus activities.  Right now I can do whatever I want, and it's weird.  I know I'm going to look back at myself in six months and want to smack myself in the head, but it is a strange feeling.

This is getting too long, so I'll discuss the glories of finally being Home in Roma later.  One word - tomatoes.