Home again, so much so that I feel as if I had never
left. The smell of freshly baked
banana bread, the laughter of my sisters trickling from down the hall way, the
sudsy feel of my favorite cucumber melon bath and body works soap against my
hands. My sewing project stashed
in my closet left still half finished, my jewelry in the exact place I had left
it. Home was home and Italy became
so separate from me in the last 2 weeks that I barely remembered I had even
been. But that was the shock of
coming home I’ve realized, because in these last few days, I feel like my life
has been a messy reconstruction surgery, and I am an inexperienced and
untrained surgeon with neither the tools nor the knowledge.
Luckily though, the reconstruction of this confusion is
neither a life or death situation, and as I’ll explain later- I guess I could
describe it more as a puzzle needing to be put back together. At least in this case there is no math
or science required, and no life is in my hands.
But why should I keep this discussion so abstract, for it is
simply anything but that. These
last few days a hoard of emotions have been pulsing through my veins
unexpectedly as I’ve been trying to make sense of my life all over again.
It seems that before I left the world seemed so small;
everything was just within arms reach, on the other side of my window; a drive
down the road. But two months
later I was traveling the world, and to say the view outside my window had
simply been enlarged would be an understatement. It expanded so much so that the lens of which I see the
world can no longer even be considered a window. From the endless view of the toffee colored rooftops
of Italy racing into the horizon from the tip top of the famous Duomo to standing
below the famous Eiffel Tower, I found myself seeing the world in an entirely
new lens. I had to find new ways
to make people laugh, I had to teach students who didn't understand my native
language, I took trains and boats and plains all on my own. I conquered the world in four months,
it seems. And from it all, I feel
not bigger... but so much smaller.
Like a star lost in a galaxy, a lamp in a city of lights; I’ve been
humbled more than I ever thought to be possible.
Still in transition shock, I might say I'm trying to build
myself up again. I'm trying to
make sense of this place I've called my home all over again; as I see it from
an entirely new perspective.
Things home are so much the same yet so different and I have a hard time
wrapping my head around it. People
are so different on the other side of the world, they speak different languages
and eat different things. One
person has a narrow face, the other round, one person wears high top tennis
shoes, the other fancy flats with bow ties and glitter. One person begs on the side of the
street, the other stands on a rooftop wearing a gold watch. Yet today, as I walk down the street,
everyone now looks the same. The
beggar is no less than the rich man as the rich man is no more than the beggar. I respect humanity for the sake of
humanity and see people in an entirely new way. I don't judge like I used to; I cringe when I hear labels
and chide comments thrown at people just because they are different. Because I look then down at myself and
think how much the same we are really are. We are all human; Italian, American, English, French. We are all people that deserve love,
humility and respect.
Though the first few weeks back were fine, as stated
earlier, I’ve found my feelings and perspectives on things grow quite
peculiar. Lately I feel like I've
been seeing the world through a thick layer of fog. And it's difficult to remove it all. I feel like I'm experiencing joy
second-handedly; as if I'm not really there. I'm trying to find my footsteps from where I left off; but
I'm finding I'm taking an entirely new path, forming an entirely new
direction. Things are not what I
always thought they were. My
philosophy teacher doesn't sound so stupid anymore when I think of the time he
asked me whether or not I knew the chair in front of me really existed. Because then, it did. And now, sometimes I think it's just a
figment of my imagination; like this whole life is beginning to be. It's like a spiral sometimes. Not even a staircase, but the handrail,
because it just moves so fast. You
think you are going in one direction, you think you have things figured out;
when bam, life takes a turn again and you have to figure your whole life out
again; as if you were never a part of it.
And going back to the puzzle; I feel like before I left I
had one nicely put together in front of me. My life, from my narrow understanding at the time, was
pretty much put together; piece by piece.
But then suddenly, in the course of four months- the entire thing was
broken. I got new pieces, pieces were taken away, pieces didn't fit. Now I have somebody staring down at me
telling me to put it together again.
And I can't even find all the pieces. But in the midst of it all: I know they are there-
somewhere. In the midst of all
those afternoon drives when I can barely see the world in front of me because
all I see are tears and all I hear is an old country song that reminds me of
someone that I only knew before fourth months. And the times in the middle of the night where I empty my
closet because I don't know what anything is in there anymore. I just don't want it anymore. When I walk my dogs, down the same old
road. Driving down Cherry Lane:
memory lane. Going to work. Smelling flowers again; like they just
blossomed into existence. Trying
to figure out if God really exists; like I never celebrated a Christmas in my
life. Who is he and what does he
mean?
And then I get all those questions on those scholarship
reports and updates, asking me to state how my professional and life goals have
changed and altered from my study abroad experience. They give me one paragraph and I literally scream inside
trying to sort my entire understanding of my future within the confines of
perhaps a mere 200 words. So then I begin to ask myself the simple
questions. Who is it that I want
to be? Then I chisel around the
question a little more, feeling that a direction might give it more meaning:
Who do I want to be for myself and not for other people? Do I want to do things just to set
myself apart and for the sake of doing them or do I want to do things because
that is where my heart is, and I truly
want to do them?
I’d like to say I’ve got the whole part of that puzzle put
together, but it really is still in the process. I think about it, and go back and forth; I build and take
away. Sometimes I put up an entire
block, other times I hammer down a wall. I want to say I want to travel the world but there is
only so much you can do and see.
Sometimes I just want to dig my feet into the dirt and be and know what
is all around me. I want to get to
know my backyard, the forest 1000 feet from my house, the children who don't
get fed dinner a neighborhood away.
Because I know that they need a teacher too; not just the starving
children across the world in the TV commercials. Everybody needs somebody and no matter where I am I want to
make a difference. To be a teacher
has been my dream ever since my starry eyed day dreams in English class when I
first learned about Walden and Thoreau and how life doesn't have to be what
everybody else tells you it is. It
taught me freedom and self-respect and that you can really reach your dreams in
spite of what others tell you and what others tell you you should want.
I guess all I can say now is that yes, studying abroad in a
foreign country definitely allowed me to grow, change and become. And for better of for worse, this is an
answer only I can decide. Free
will was a gift given to us, of that for some may still be in question. But in the end, it is simply the way of
things. For better I strive, and I
hope to grow in a way that I can positively affect others in my life, and
ultimately the students I one-day hope to nurture and help grow into loving and
compassionate human beings.
That small little lamp I am amongst that city of lights, I
hope will some day glitter more brightly.
I am merely one amongst the others, but if it wasn’t for all of us
together, we could never be a sparkling city. There would be no Eiffel tower, no toffee colored rooftops,
no language or culture or understanding and being whatsoever. But let’s stray from the abstract. Lets combine our windows and see the
world from a wider perspective.
As much as I want to say traveling is the only way to grow
as an individual and love more clearly, live more closely, and smile more
brightly, we all find our own ways.
Reading books, telling stories, sharing pictures, I never could have
realized how much we truly make a difference in one another’s lives.
How difficult it is to sum up this four-month experience,
but due to timely circumstances, it is now I must bid my final goodbyes.
Arrivederci, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu, Slán leat, Farwell, and,
thank-you for your readership as I strongly appreciate all
the support and prayers as I ventured during my long journey.
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