Even more concerning than the child and my emotional state: one of my fellow students is about to miss the flight. If I could, I would send out a search party for "Male, 22 years of age, frat boy extraordinaire, moderately annoying but genuinely kindhearted." But alas, that opportunity has passed, and who would be willing to go look for him at 5 a.m. anyway? Too bad we turned in our program cell phones last night...We could have called...
So here I am with 40 or so of my classmates, one trooper down, miserable that I am about to leave Italian soil, with a baby once again wailing into the side of my head. Oh, and half the group is sleep deprived since they stayed up the entire night (they are bound to be a joy in a few hours when sleep deprivation turns them into beasts).
Thank goodness this is only an hour long flight to Frankfurt.
The engines roar to life as we sit on the runway, positioned for take-off. Now, we're shooting down the runway and the wheels begin to leave the ground...3, 2, 1... My heart lurches. I've left the place of my dreams and already the separation can be felt. Above the landscape I watch as my adopted country and I become ever more separated.
A thick cloud blocks my view of the ground. Tuscany is gone.
I know I will come back. I've lived such an incredible seven weeks here in la terra della mia vita--the land of my life. This is only a temporary separation. Italy's siren song will continue to call to me, and unlike Odysseus, I will listen. My destination is far more appealing than his was: a country of magical hills, rich culture, delicious food, and dynamic people. With a little luck, a lot of planning, and support from my friends and family, Italy will become my new home. Ciao for now, Italy. I'll be seeing you soon.
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| Stormy Florence, the night of August 14th. |
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| The fake David, night of August 13th. |
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| After the big dinner party on August 14th. Who would have thought we'd have a slumber party soon to come... |
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