Expectations

In a previous post, I wrote about my problems with a certain person. This person was someone I had considered a friend long before our arrival in Rome, Italy. We are no longer friends and life goes on. It doesn't bother me that we are no longer friends. Meanwhile, it does irk me that I allowed the negative situation, along with many others (e.g., homesickness, feelings of isolation, difficulties), to easily influence my writing. I want my writing to be positive during my time studying abroad. In accordance to that, I would like to hope that my experiences will be enjoyable for the rest of my time here.

I don't desire to unnecessarily speak ill of others or express any negativity through the words I write. Unfortunately, the bad is as inevitable as the good. I am human, after all. At times, I feel compelled to write about whatever emotional maladies I may possess in order to free myself of them. At the same time, however, I feel guilty for doing so. I feel somewhat ashamed to admit to my faults because I did not expect to encounter them during my travels. When I first began this journey, starting from when I even considered the possibility of studying abroad, I didn't expect anything less than the ideal: watching the sun set on the Mediterranean, walking down slick cobblestone streets, experiencing la dolce vita Italiana.

I neither expected nor desired to feel homesick, anxious, or contemptuous towards anyone. I never expected to feel anger towards the Italian salesclerks who have gotten impatient with my poor attempts at speaking Italian... or the fact that for some reason some don't like to make change for purchases less than 3/4 of the euro bill I offer. (Long story short, a lady at the supermarket yelled and glared at me for giving her a 20 euro bill for an ~11 euro purchase) I didn't imagine that I would feel alone, isolated, and far from my closest friends. I didn't expect to experience these things or write about them. I want to look back on these entries and reawaken sweet memories, not regret them. Unfortunately, that's how life is, isn't it? We firmly hold onto our expectations and nothing plays out the way we hope them to. Things seem to turn out far worse than we had hoped...

On the other hand, dear reader, in the end, perhaps things turn out far better than we could have imagined. I don't know if this is quite true, but I hold hope. In the past, I always found myself believing that my situation was at its worst. Yet, in retrospect, I would not replace the things I felt, tasted, heard, saw, thought, or came across during those days. I wish to believe that these times are just like any of those previous moments merely taking their due course.

That is why, dear reader, I write this: an apology and statement of conviction. This is an apology to myself, for allowing negative thoughts influence me so easily. This is also to state that I will write whatever my passions inspire. I wish to be honest with myself and with you. I will keep writing and erase nothing in the hope that things will make sense in the end.

Friends in Foreign Places

This past weekend was our first weekend with no school orientation trips planned for us to attend. I still can't believe that we've barely been here for three weeks since we moved in! It feels like so much has happened since the beginning of the semester. I've made new friends, lost some, gained a few more, and found my own little niche in this foreign environment I now call home.

I realized that I shouldn't hold onto anything so firmly. I should let people, plans, and expectations come and flee as they please. For example, there is this girl who I have been friends with since the freshman year of college. Soon after we had arrived in Italy, her attitude towards me changed. I would say something and she would meticulously dissect a statement in order to extract any morsel of fault she could find. Countless times she would patronizingly tell me to be quiet when she, herself, would speak in the same volume as I was.

At first, I thought that the little quips she would make towards me were just due to jet lag or whatnot. However, after the first week or so, I realized that she was intentionally condescending towards me. I finally snapped at her when she tried to start an argument about some insignificant detail. I tried to calmly reason with her at first, but as she continued to poke and prod me, I proceeded to say, "You know what, I don't give a damn." She responded with, "Woah. Woah," and walked away as if she didn't understand why I had snapped at her. She came back an hour later to apologize then walked away when I tried to apologize and explain why I had snapped at her. I've tried starting conversations with her since then, but she would merely reply with one-word responses. Also, in the most recent instances where we'd encounter one another in the hallways she would coldly look away.

I realized that I do not need to trouble myself with such people. I've asked a mutual friend of ours if the former was all right or if something had happened that would make her start behaving the way she did towards me. This mutual friend of ours said she couldn't think of anything and tried to rationalize the behavior the former was displaying towards me (e.g., jet lag, known habitual mood swings, homesickness). I've tried talking to her after apologizing, yet I was always met with contrived gestures of amiability or coldly diregarded. I have no time nor reason to accommodate for the whims of such people. I've grown tired of wondering what I can do to please others when it is me who is wronged. Why must I consciously expose myself to insults and disrespect? It's absurd to do so.

In the past few days and weeks, I've come across people I can call friends and confidants. They don't intentionally initiate arguments with me, but instead work with me to come to a mutual understanding. I've found those that I can laugh with, respectfully debate with, and share myself with. Sure, I've come across others that I cannot get along with and I just let them be. There are those that cannot handle my vulgar sense of humor, my philosophies, or the fact that I am homosexual, amongst other things. That's what I've learned about this world: I cannot be friends with everyone I come across nor should I expect to be. The best thing I can do is offer my respect and desire to reach a common ground. Meanwhile, if such an offer is rejected, then there is nothing I can do but walk away.

I have in my possession an opportunity to experience new cultures, meet interesting individuals, and realize a different way of being. It's a chance for me to explore new channels of interests and attempt to connect with those that I never would have expected to build relationships with. What I must focus on throughout this journey, or perhaps even for the rest of my life, is to be happy and stay happy. I must grasp opportune moments while letting go of those that have no reason to stay.

This world is full of too much beauty and wonders. One must not worry him or herself with those that cannot improve the experience of such wonderful, worldly things.

KC

Orientation Trip - Reggia di Caserta, Paestum, and the Amalfi Coast

This past weekend we took our biggest school trip, where we visited a palace of a thousand (give or take a few) rooms, the ruins of Paestum, and the Amalfi Coast (Salerna and Sorrento to be exact)...

We all had to be up and ready by 7am, which wasn't too much of a struggle for me since I'm always up and early anyways. Thankfully, I had packed my travel bag the night before so I had nothing to worry about. Nonetheless, even with my preparations I almost forgot my wallet in my room, which I fortunately realized before the buses had left campus.

The bus ride from Rome to Caserta was about three hours long. Throughout the bus ride, I had a Jesuit priest sit right beside me. It was kind of a tense situation for me in the beginning since I assumed that I had to alter my behavior to be a bit more formal and contrite than usual (which meant being quiet for most of the ride and only speaking when spoken to).I realized that the priest was pretty informal in behavior and quite friendly, actually. However, the realized was not enough for me to put my guard down. He was very talkative and always ready for a conversation, but the early morning along with the thought of the long bus ride ahead tempted me to silently doze off.

We made it to Reggia di Caserta around 10 to 11 in the morning. The entrance to the palace was at least 300 feet in distance, from one end to the other, and had ceilings that were about 30 feet high. The floor was cobblestone the color similar to that of the rainy and cloudy sky that loomed above us. The multitudes of pillars were marble of similar color to that of a thick London fog. The ceiling, however, was much brighter with colors of goldenrod and azure.

 The main staircase that led us to the upper floors were made of ivory white marble with beautiful carvings on the side. As I walked up the first flight of steps, I was faced with the sculptures of royalty that have come to pass, marble sculptures of grotesque lions on both sides, and grand frescoes up above me. By comparing the size of the heads of some of the people in the photo, one can try to imagine the scale of the frescoes. Throughout the whole palace (or from what I was able to see of it), every room's ceiling was adorned by a grand fresco. They were religious scenes, historical scenes, and portraits of the artists' patrons. It was interesting how the marble floors were scoffed, pockmarked, and scratched, yet the beautiful, vibrant frescoes above us had preserved their beauty and majesty.

Later, we found ourselves in the palace's chapel. The ceilings were beautifully gilded with gold, the whole room was surrounded by ivory colored marble that had a touch of a rosy hue. They say that during World War II the Allied Forces had occupied this palace and before the U.S. departed, they left a bomb. Unfortunately, this bomb had detonated in the chapel, which damaged a few of the columns on both sides. It may seem like not much damage was obtained, therefore one might assume that the bomb was not of great power. Perhaps, instead, one must think of the strength and quality of work of these marble columns and walls that were able to withstand the explosion of a bomb. Meanwhile, one must wonder, why did the U.S. leave a bomb in a chapel to detonate?

Like I said, Reggia di Caserta is a palace of more than a thousand rooms. There was even a room solely used for the previous residents to change out of their hunting clothes. Quite superfluous, I must say. After seeing at least 10 rooms, it started to get old and redundant for me. They were beautiful rooms with beautiful frescoes, certainly. However, they started to look the same or at least the same pattern. It's just ridiculous how each succeeding resident of this palace added more rooms to his/her liking instead of working with those already built. A few of my friends and I even joked that at one point, the previous residents probably just got tired and slept in whatever bedroom they came across instead of having to walk all the way to a specific bedroom. Once I became progressively bored and not paying attention to the guided tour, I just started taking pictures of myself on the antique mirrors. At first people were giving me weird looks and saying under their breath, "What the hell are you doing?" After a while, people started to follow suit and do the same thing! Hah!

It rained all day, which I wasn't prepared for, so I was somewhat drenched and my leather boots were ruined. Even so, the gardens and the view of the palace outside were beautiful. In my mind, I imagined that perhaps this would be a setting similar to where Jane Austen's Mansfield Park might have taken place. The gray, rainy clouds looming above, the beautiful greenery and forestry all around us that reached further than our eyes could see, and a palace of marble and frescoes in the middle of it... it's the perfect setting for most of the Victorian novels I have surrounded myself with. A friend and I walked through the palace grounds in hopes of seeing what's at the end of it. However, after 20 minutes of continuous walking we were unable to even make it to the middle of the greenery. Now, imagine how large the palace grounds were!

 We ended the day in Salerno, where we stayed two nights in a hotel right by the coast. It's the first time in a long while since I've been to a sea or ocean's shores, and it was definitely the very first time I had been to the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. It was a beautiful sight as mountains surrounded us on one side and the waves of the Mediterranean embraced us on the other. The presence of rain, its clouds, and sunset resulted in a beautiful picturesque scene right above the Mediterranean.

A few new friends/classmates I met that day spent the night walking around the streets of Salerno. Apparently, there was a huge sale going on that was only lasting til that weekend. The streets were illuminated by street lamps, decorative lights, and the slick cobblestones reflected these lights as if they glowed themselves. I wasn't able to find anything of interest to me that was on sale (that's saldi in Italian). Instead, my new found friends and I bought ourselves a bottle of wine (each) and walked around whatever street seemed interesting and attractive to us. With every corner we turned on we found small shops offering cuts of meat, cheeses, and various types of alcohol. With a bottle of wine to call our own, we took as many sips from the bottles as every corner we turned.

The next day, we went on a day trip to Paestum to see the ruins of ancient temples. There, I learned that there were more Greek colonies in what we call modern day Italy than there were actual Roman cities. Of course, after some time, the Romans did take over these colonies, which were taken over by other civilizations after the Roman Empire's fall. In the photo, are my friends and I near the temple of Juno (that's Hera in Greek mythology). The temple was quite large, which we were about a hundred feet or so away from in this picture. It was quite interesting to see such a monument that predates the Greek Parthenon standing. It has apparently withstood earthquakes, weather, and time. For me, dear reader, seeing these ruins is like a memento mori, a reminder of death or human mortality. Sure, it may seem grim, but at the same time it shows me that even as the body fades, the works and feats of our minds last much longer.

After a visit to the ruins, we visited a farm where organic mozzarella di bufala was made. It was a beautiful farm surrounded by pastures and mountains dotted with greenery. The sky was clear, the sun was bright, and the air was fresh with the smell that made me think, "Yes, we're at a farm with animals. It kind of smells like it." The strong smell of the animals and excrement took us by surprise as we entered the buffaloes' living space. Apparently, the water buffaloes are kept from experiencing stress by giving them large expanses land for grazing, machines that provide massages, and they are never treated with any sort of antibiotics. When the animals do get sick, they are quickly sent to the butcher in order to prevent them from infecting the other buffaloes. After, the tour of the farm, we were able to sample fresh mozzarella di bufala. It was very delicious and much more flavorful compared to the ordinary supermarket kind. It had a slight sourness distinctive of cheese and a creaminess to it that signified its freshness. At that point, I knew that I had tasted something I probably won't be able to taste anywhere else unless I visited that particular area again.

We spent another night in the hotel by the coast in Salerna. I became acquainted with more schoolmates that night during dinner. My friendship with them further developed as we went out after dinner that night and had a few drinks. Before heading out to the bars, we went to a gelateria near the hotel. Mind you, this was around midnight or perhaps even an hour after, yet this little shop was bustling with customers from club goers to children as young as seven. It was our last night in Salerno and I think it we made the best of it.

The next day, we packed our stuff and made our way to Sorrento. Unfortunately, my camera had died the night before and I had forgotten to bring my battery charger with me. The trip up the hills and mountains of Sorrento was terrifying and entertaining at the same time. We road on large tour buses, four of them in total, that effortlessly squeezed themselves on these narrow roads that hugged the sides of mountains overlooking coastal towns by a few hundred feet. These roads that curved and turned countless times could barely fit one car was able to successfully offer us passage even with traffic going the other direction.

When we got to the lemon farm, my group had a man named Giovanni give us a tour. He was a very attractive man. He had these hazel eyes, this humble yet confident smile, a sun kissed complexion, along with lustrous and thick black hair. A few times we caught each others gaze for a few seconds too long and I took this as a sign of interest. I stood near him when we took a break from the tour and he said hello to me. I was quite nervous yet emboldened by my interest in him that I hurriedly introduced myself. We talked about his vespa and I commented that it was my dream to ride a vespa before leaving Italy (implying that perhaps he can give me a ride on his, of course). Throughout our time at the lemon farm I tried to stay close to him, which I'm sure he noticed. We spoke throughout the whole tour with light conversation when he wasn't busy talking to someone else. Perhaps I was trying too hard to maintain contact with him or maybe I wasn't assertive enough, but in the end, our interaction didn't proceed any further.

Maybe it was just  the way of the Italians, his suaveness and piercing gaze made me interpret a possible interest. I wasn't able to determine whether he was interested in men, women, or both; it's what drove me to pursue him even further. If he was just into women, fine. However, if there was a possibility of me having some sort of intimate encounter with this man, I wanted to take that opportunity. Unfortunately, near the end of our time at the lemon farm, he into deeper conversation with a few other people. I did not want to seem desperate (more than I already was) by intervening. I bought myself a bottle of limoncello as a memento of the whole trip. Surprisingly, I'm not too fond of limoncello; it's surprisingly strong and very sweet.

When we got back on the buses, he got in his car that was next to my window. Since I knew that I would never see him again and I really didn't care to pursue him any further, I just waved at him enthusiastically like a fool. Whatever, it was the end of a chance encounter and I wanted to entertain myself somehow by believing that he could have been a nice fling during my time in Italy.

Didn't Frances from Under the Tuscan Sun have a short fling with Marcello in the Amalfi Coast, specifically Positano? Perhaps I thought that I could have something similar to that. Oh well, I still have about three months here. Who knows what will happen in that time period?

A Journey of Being

This whole week, people have been trying to figure out what sort of trips they'd like to take during this semester. Some of those offered by the school included trips to Tuscany, Poland, Sicily, Tunisia, and many others. A lot of the people I know, if not most, have signed up for a trip or two with the school. Along with these trips, people are also planning independent weekend trips to France, Germany, Turkey, and many other places.

I, on the other hand, can't afford to do the trips with the school. I have to be a little more conscious and critical of the trips I can possibly take. A lot of the trips hosted by the school range from 200€ for a weekend trip to 800€ for the week-long Spring Break trip to Tunisia. Along with that, just airfare alone to other European countries such as Germany, Austria, England, and Spain cost around 200€-300€. I can't afford to spend that much for one trip. Especially, considering the fact that I want to experience a trip that is personal, raw, and unique, the trips offered didn't really fit the criteria. So instead of doing any study trips through the school, I intend to do all my traveling plans on my own. The major one I've decided and booked my flight for is Morocco.

Yes, I have booked a round-trip flight to Morocco and I will be staying there for ten days. Who will I be traveling with? Just myself. Yes, I will be traveling around a new, unfamiliar country on my own, which I know nothing about, for ten days. Sure, it's kind of scary thinking of how no one will know where I will be for those ten days other than myself and the people I come across. Anything can happen, which is the scariest and most exciting part about it.

Some people have been critical of my plans asking, "What can you do in Morocco for ten days? Why there?" Mind you, dear reader, Morocco is not merely a city but a country. I simply reply by saying that I want to travel to several Moroccan cities and not just stay in one. Perhaps that's what makes my trip seem even more adventurous, risky, and exciting at the same time. I don't plan on staying in one city. Instead, I plan on staying in a different city for about two days; Marrakesh, Fes, Tangier, and Casablanca perhaps?  I don't know what I will find, but I'm quite certain that it will be an interesting journey.

A friend of mine worries that it will be pretty lonely traveling on my own for ten days. Especially considering the fact that I am a novice traveler. However, I think that's it's a much needed journey. By experiencing the new and the unknown, we come to find and/or develop a part of ourselves we can never fathom of being. To get lost in an unfamiliar city, whose courage and capabilities can I depend on other than my own? A lot of people can say that they went to Rome, Paris, London, or Berlin. On the contrary, how many people can say that they traveled around an exotic country such as Morocco by themselves for ten days? Especially a traveler who has never ventured out of their home country on their own?

I don't know what to expect from my trip to Morocco other than a sense of growth. What will I learn? What will I see? Who will I meet? Frankly, I don't know. All I can really do is stay open to the possibilities. That is what learning and being worldly is about. Certainly, I can learn just as much by going on the study trips hosted by my school. However, my trip to Morocco will be a very personal venture that will definitely be priceless.

Ciao da Roma

It has been a whirlwind of a week! I can't believe that I've only been in Italy for five days, yet it feels as if I've been here for so much longer. It still has yet to completely hit me that I'm in Italy... a whole new country at least four thousand miles away from Chicago. Yes, I was a tad bit homesick on the first night, but I think that I've come to accept, love and be excited about my current situation.

For the most part, the past few days have mostly consisted of orientation activities from filling out our permesso di soggiorno to learning about the choices of study trips we can go on throughout the semester (Tunisia, Sicily, Tuscany, or Poland perhaps?) Of course, it hasn't been only about orientation presentations and activities. In the past five days, I've explored the neighborhood we live in, gone out with friends to an Irish pub (yes, an Irish pub in Rome. Ironic, non?), seen the Coliseum, the Roman Forum, and Villa d'Este. In such a short time, I've accomplished so many things, which I think has allowed me to perceive as if I've been here longer than I really have. In closer reflection, I've realized that I at least have three more months here in Europe and that it is merely the start of many more adventures!

In the past week, it really has just been about getting settled into my new home for the next three or so months and doing community-building trips to certain historic sites. For the first two days, I just took it easy as I was still recuperating from jet lag. It's quite surprising how much of a difference 7 hours make! So for the most part, I spent it either sleeping, walking around the neighborhood with new friends and just trying to convince myself bit by bit that I'm in Italy. And yes, it's reality. I keep asking others, "Has it hit you yet?" And their responses is similar to mine, "Nope, it still seems so surreal."

My second night in the city of Rome, I decided to go out with some people to an Irish pub for Ladies Night. Sure, I felt somewhat anxious since it was ladies night (which I didn't realize until we got to the pub) and I was going with these group of girls. With me being in a country where I could barely speak the language, it exaggerated my worries even more. In the end, I did have fun with my new friends and spent the night out until 3am. The bartenders were either from the UK or from the U.S. with a few Italian patrons. My group of female friends and I got free shots and these two British men bought us drinks throughout the night. It was a night full of laughter and adventure, that's for sure. I think it was a great transition to a new environment as it was a mixture of the familiar (the English language) and the new (getting to and from the pub and the international people we met).

The next night, Friday, I went to a school hosted dinner in the neighborhood. It was a lovely experience. Of course, like every meal I've had outside of campus it was accompanied with wine. It was a small restaurant in the neighborhood of Monte Mario. You could tell that the place was owned by one family. The host was doing paperwork for the restaurant's finances right by the entrance while also serving us. Him humming and singing in Italian under his breath made the experience seem even more authentic. Nothing showy or over the top, just the simplicity of good food, great company, and authenticity. Of course, the host being tall, dark, and handsome didn't hurt either. Hah!

At the Roman Forum.

The next day we spent the whole day in Downtown Rome. We were given tickets to see the Roman Forum and the Coliseum afterwards. It was really awesome and somewhat surreal that these buildings have lasted for over a millennium.  It made me realize the transience of each human life, but the consequences of us living, essentially creating and manifesting things out of our own imagination, borders on the eternal. In any case, walking through the Roman Forum was a great experience. I preferred it over the Coliseum as it gave you more of a chance to immerse yourself in its history and interact with the environment.

After seeing the Roman Forum and the Coliseum, we made our way to a small restaurant to try some pizza margherita and gelato. Surprisingly, before this trip to Downtown Rome, I had yet to taste real Italian gelato or pizza, so it was an experience quite overdue. Nonetheless, it was really good. Afterwards, my friends and I were told that we would have to find our way back home via public transportation. They claim that by getting lost in the city and finding our way back, we'll learn how to live here for the next three or so months, which I definitely agree with. Of course, one can't say that I wasn't a tad bit nervous about getting lost all night. However, we did find our way back by 10 that evening.

Archway overlooking Tivoli.

The day after we went to Downtown Rome to visit the Roman Forum and the Coliseum, we went to Tivoli, which is known for Villa d'Este and its garden of many fountains. I really enjoyed this trip more than the trip we took to Downtown Rome. It fit my perception of Italy the most with rolling hills, the narrow, cobblestone sidewalks, clotheslines hanging from window to window, and people just sitting leisurely at the piazza on a Sunday afternoon while children played all around them. It was more intimate of an experience. It was beautiful, romantic, and it made realize more and more that, yes, I am in Italy.

Of course, what I relate Villa d'Este with is Lizzie McGuire the Movie. Along with Roman Holiday and Under the Tuscan Sun, Lizzie McGuire made me fall in love with the idea of visiting Italy. The scene I loved the most was when the character of Paolo took Lizzie to Villa d'Este and ran through the fountains with her. Obviously, I had to reenact the scene and take a picture of it!

Lizzie McGuire moment!!!

I'm still somewhat waiting for it to hit me that I'm in a new country. Sure, I experience the difficulties of trying to express myself and understanding those who have different linguistic backgrounds. I must admit that even the smallest gestures such as ordering food or gelato, I feel inclined to give up and just be that "American" who tries to speak in English. It's the inherent ethnocentrism that I never imagined I would possess, I guess. However, I'm trying to resist it. Yesterday, when we visited Tivoli, I was so ecstatic to order cotton candy at the piazza on my own. I said, "Ciao. Vorrei zucherro filato," assuming that it was the phrase for "cotton candy" since it was the sign in front of his cart/stand. He asked, "Fragole (Strawberry)?" I responded, "Si. Grazie." Yes, it was a simple conversation, but I felt successful and proud of myself even if there might have been some grammatical errors. Nonetheless, it was one of those moments that made Italy more of a reality for me.

Classes started today and I'm pretty much settled in. This means that I will be posting more frequently and on a more predictable schedule. It also means that I will have time to travel and explore on my own as well! Next weekend, my class and I will be taking a 3-day weekend trip to Caserta, Salerno, Paestum, and Sorrento. The weekend after that, I will spend a whole day at the Vatican City with a few friends. The weekend following, I will be going to Paris and Versailles with the same set of friends. Also, tonight I will be planning out my Morocco trip with two other friends.

Until my next posts, ciao!
KC

I'm Here. I'm Scared. I'm Excited.

Yep, I am now officially in Italy. It has been quite the voyage considering that I have barely slept for the last 24 hours or so (if at all). Let's start from the beginning shall we?

I got to the airport about three hours before my departure time. When I got there people were already in line to check in their bags. I made small chit chat with a few of the people in line and I think I even made a friend. I would consider her a new friend and not just an acquaintance as we've basically kept in contact throughout our whole flight from Chicago to Frankfurt, Germany for a three hour layover and finally to Rome, Italy.

It was really exciting meeting all these new people. It felt similar to when I first moved into the dorms my freshman year of college. It was new, exciting, and I didn't know what to expect of my environment and especially of the people. The people I've met from the random encounter in line to the random seat neighbors I had for my primary and secondary flights, however not many of them have interest me... Or perhaps I have not interested them. In any case, I feel that I am quite alone on this trip except for the girl I had newly befriended and one or two people I am acquainted with before this Rome trip.

Yes, I admit, I do feel kind of homesick; more than I had expected to be. It feels weird that I am apart from my family not just by a few miles or even statewide. I am away from my friends and family for three and a half months. Along with not seeing them, I am afraid that I may run out of money before I complete this trip or see most of the things I want to see. It is only my first night here, yet I already feel lonely and isolated. At first, I thought that this would be the ideal situation. I thought that I would be all right with exploring Europe on my own. However, I'm not as confident as I had imagined. I am afraid to even say, "Ciao," to those that work in the school or the neighboring shops. I'm afraid of being spotted as the foreigner and the sorts of reactions it may encourage. I really am out of my comfort zone and it scares me a bit.

On the other hand, I should appreciate this. Now I know the threshold of my comfortability. I now know what I need to work on and how I can possibly use this as an opportunity to strengthen myself. It's scary and for the past day or so, I've felt as if my fear of the truly unknown is the end-all be-all. On the contrary, it's not. I have come to realize my unconscious borders. Now, I can work on broadening them. I really do want to see as much as I can and make this trip as worthwhile as it can be. All I can or should really do is keep an open mind, right? To accept things as they come and to act accordingly.

Well, I'm tired and it has been over twenty-four hours since I have slept. I will write again soon and post the photographs I have taken these past few days tomorrow. Until then, buona notte.