Since I have arrived in Firenze, I've been lectured on culture shock, its symptoms, its effects, and its stages. Each time, I've been informed that I will go through culture shock by school officials, deans, school counselors, and so forth. For some reason, I haven't believed it. And after walking home this morning, I know I won't go through culture shock. Not because I'm more well adjusted, or because I don't temporarily block out negative, or because I see the city as perfect, but because I feel completely and 100% at ease.
Walking home from Italian Language class this morning, I realized how completely I am comfortable here. I felt myself go from what everyone has been calling the "honeymoon stage" to feeling completely at peace here. I stopped at a vendor and purchased an umbrella in preparation for the purging rain we seem to be receiving this afternoon. I stopped at Sandro's to pick up the recipe for the rabbit I bought yesterday. I followed my usual walk home and greeted the little, old man using his umbrella as a walking stick. And I did this all in my broken and infantile Italian.
I don't feel well-adjusted per se because I don't think I had anything to adjust to. I truly feel completely at home. I don't find anything shocking about this culture. It's not without flaws, but it's perfect for me. At this point in my life I know that THIS is where I belong. This is the perfect setting for this stage of my life. Sitting out my window, journaling on my computer, eating my 1Euro bread, fresh figs, and ricotta cheese. And let's not forget the nutella...
I can relate to feeling at home. Being born in America, I never seemed to feel American. Inside our home, the moment your feet entered the interior of our home, it felt different. When I was finally fortunate enough to visit Italy for the first time I realized that Italy was where I was always suppose to be. I felt like I was finally home. The Americans in our neighborhood could never relate 100 % to the differences that existed within our home...always making me feel awkward and different. And as I was fortunate enough to share the Amalfi Coast with my American children, I once again felt like I was finally home again as I embraced walking the wee hours of the morning to obtain gallons of water from the market along with fresh produce for the day early enough to avoid the heat of the rising sun. I miss my home and still feel awkward in America even though I was born an American. There's an emptiness inside me here in the states and I long to return home soon where I feel I belong most. Perhaps I embrace it so much because I feel the presence of my Papa even more. Although my Papa was proud to be an American Citizen and he embraced America for all that it was able to give his family, it was me who felt without country and not him. As I look at you in the photos and and read your posts, I feel an absence here knowing that you are on the other side of the world. But I rejoice in knowing that my children can now relate to what I feel when I am in Italy. I feel grateful that my children are able to embrace their heritage and experience where their family was from and what their past was like. I am grateful that God has given you an opportunity of a lifetime to explore your families past and understand and embrace where we truly come from. Figlia, ti voglio bene tanto, tanto bella!
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