Wednesday, June 26, 2013

The promise of home


by Tom Greene
They say youth is wasted on the young. So too, it seems, is experience wasted on those about to go home from Cagli.
Walking through the Wednesday market, I felt a complete sense of ease. I stopped to buy a drink at my favorite tabacchi, shared a joke with a local friend, and munched on fried squid and shrimp. The Italians have a beautiful word: tranquillo. For me, it is a sense of home. The feeling was so different from the anxiousness I felt when I first came here, trying to speak to locals and fumbling with my words, handing over big bills so I wouldn’t have to make change, hoping that smiling like a goon would cover my mistakes. Now, I felt serene, peaceful – at home.

We leave tomorrow, of course. I don’t want to go. I heard someone talk about how a student from a previous class broke a hip and had to stay here for six weeks. Immediately, I wondered just how bad a broken hip would hurt and how I could go about making that happen. My anxiousness from the newness of first being here is now replaced with the anxiety of trying to figure out how to come back to Cagli. I need to find an angle… hopefully one that doesn’t involve breaking any bones. I have make a promise to myself to come to terms with leaving. I'll be back. I promise. 

1 comment:

  1. Oh, my gosh. I wasn't the only one who kept handing people larger bills so I didn't have to deal with all those pesky coins!?! I thought that was a uniquely me cultural dodge. So glad I had company!

    Jake and the lady at La Foccacia got smart to me pretty fast and forced me to learn the change system. Which is so similar to ours it is almost embarrassing to admit I struggled so much. It wasn't the counting the change so much as understanding when they told me how much I owed. Urg, the numbers killed me. And then we got back to Firenze and I was annoyed that people gave me the amount in English and not Italian because I was finally just getting the hang of it! Diva is just never happy! :)

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