Arrivederci

(From 11/29/10)

It is difficult to believe that this is my last week here in Sansepolcro. Right now, I am slightly overwhelmed by everything I must do before an unnatural hour on Sunday morning, when the bus comes to take us to Rome. I have two papers to write, a test and an exam to take, and lots and lots of studying. Then of course, there is the daunting task of packing. All the little souvenirs and small gifts I’ve been collecting throughout the semester really do add up. Fortunately, I did bring an extra bag. However, I will definitely be returning home with more stuff and more luggage than I came with. Another thing on my to-do list is planning my trip to Rome, since I will be spending a few days there before flying home. Meredith H. and I will be travelling together, and we need to make our hotel reservations and get tickets in advance to avoid those crazy-long lines at famous sights. And in addition to all of this, there are many things I must do before I can complete my sentimental packing: last goodbyes to new Italian friends, last walk down the corso, last gelato and cappuccino, last class with my middle school students, last glimpse of Sansepolcro. I’ve already taken my last train and last bus this past weekend, when I went to Capri and Pompeii—a sad arrivederci to all the adventures we’ve had traveling this semester.

On the one hand, I am deeply saddened to leave Sansepolcro, this town I’ve grown to love so much. I will miss my room in the Palazzo and having so much life and excitement right below. I will miss being able to look outside my window and check if the caffè or pizzeria is open. I will miss knowing everything happening in the town because I live in the middle of it and am regaled by trumpets and proclamations whenever something important is going on. I will miss walking to the grocery store and lugging back my heavy purchases. Well, actually, I won’t. But I will miss the smallness and closeness of Sansepolcro. I’ll miss going somewhere new nearly every weekend, exploring and observing places I’ve never been before. I’ll miss the opportunities to meet interesting people, study famous works of art, enjoy beautiful scenery, try new things. I’ll miss delicious pizza, cappuccino and EstaThè. I might even miss being called ragazza straniera when I return to being a normal person again.

It will be strange, I think, to walk down the street or sit in a café and actually understand bits of other people’s conversations as they waft over to your ears. I’ve grown so accustomed to tuning out words and letting them bounce around like gentle humming. It will also be strange to be aware of social rules and not fumble clumsily through them—for example, to know whether you are to sit down at a restaurant or wait to be seated, to wait in line or to push to the front at the post office, to give a hug, shake hands or kiss both cheeks, to pay now or later, to put your empty shopping basket near the cash register or take it back to the front of the supermarket. Simple things such as getting a haircut, going to the ATM, or buying a snack will no longer be a chore.

And then, of course, I cannot wait for the delight of seeing my family, boyfriend, and friends again. I’m so thankful I get to come home at the end of Fall semester and not Spring, when I would be starting a summer job right away. Now, during Christmas break, I will be able to spend lots of special time with all of the people I’ve been missing so much.

Love hurts. It hurt to leave everyone when I came here, and now it is hurting to leave Italy to go home. I guess that is just the way it is, and I can only hope to come back one day. In the meanwhile, I am taking back memories, knowledge, and self-awareness that I will always keep. Well, I suppose this is my last journal from Italy. Ciao, arrivederci and, maybe, a presto!

Emily