I've been home from Italy for five days, and each one has felt like the day after Christmas. I wake up, realize I'm not in my dorm in Colle and won't be going to eat my daily croissant and cappuccino with my group, and just want to go back. I've been spending so much time on the computer looking at pictures and talking to my Urbino friends that my family and friends here don't think I like them anymore. Considering how much I miss my group and the town of Urbino itself, I think it's safe to say it was an absolutely amazing experience.
When the trip started, many of us were a little uncertain. The dorms were a long walk from the main part of town, we had no internet access, and the program seemed pretty disorganized. Once we started doing our reporting, we had some difficulty setting up interviews and finding interpreters, and a lot of our story ideas had to either be modified or changed completely. There was a lot of homesickness, frustration, and stress in the first week or two, but I knew it was all character-building. We learned about some of the challenges of international reporting, and we became close with each other along the way.
By the time the second week was over, I had completed all of my reporting and was starting to work on writing my feature article. My story was on cyclotourism: a form of travel via bike in which travelers see different towns and attractions, stopping along the way to explore and enjoy. Though it took forever, I actually found a place to rent a bike in a nearby town and did a little "cyclotouring" myself, along part of a route I'd picked up at Urbino's tourism office. I then drove the remainder of the course with an interpreter and did some interviews with the owner of a bike shop and a local triathlete. During my ride/drive, I discovered a few towns with rich history that are pretty much unknown to the average tourist -- you can read about them in my article, which I'll post here soon. I was working hard to get all of my reporting done before the weekend so I could travel, and I'm so, so glad I did.
The third week was crunch time for writing our stories, which means many hours spent at the cafe and many euros spent on cappuccinos. Little sleep, lots of nail biting, and a strong need to blow of steam at night in the piazza. This town square, with a fountain in the middle surrounded by a restaurant, pharmacy, cafe, and bar, become our second home. The businesses didn't even have names (not that we knew of, anyway) -- we just called them "the cafe" and "Giorgio's Bar." We spent at least a couple hours in the piazza every night, and it's where most of our best memories were made. Some things I'll never forget: teaching the Italians how to play Thumper (the universal language), throwing everyone into the fountain at various times and for various reasons, watching the Italians graduate one at a time in their laurel crowns, ordering rum & cola over and over again from Giorgio, explaining the meaning of the word "lightweight" to the bartenders when Yue was too drunk, and giving everyone tearful hugs on the last night when we decided not to sleep before catching the 5 am bus to the airport.
On the second-to-last night, things mellowed out when the boy I was with heard about the death of one of his best friends. As I helped him through that loss, knowing at the same time that it was my last two days with him and with the rest of my group, I spent a whole lot of time crying. I did a lot of reflecting on why I had come to Italy, what I had learned here and how it had changed me, and whether or not I'd made the most out of my time. I'm proud of the work I created and the skills I learned in terms of journalism and international reporting. I expanded my perspective beyond the bubble that is Boulder, Colorado, got to know a whole different way of life, and improved my Italian tenfold. Most of all, though, I'm really grateful to have met such amazing people, both Italian and American. I made a few friends that I know I'll keep for a very long time, and I met a boy who made the whole experience twice as special. Like my friend Maddie said, "You can't search for genuine experience, it has to find you and it will most likely kick your ass just as much as it heals you."
The sadness I've been feeling since being home is that kick in the ass, that proof that I've just had a life-changing adventure. I'm glad that I'm sad, if that makes any sense... because I know it was worth every minute.
Arrivederci, Italia -- I'll be back.
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