The Middle?

Chile. Thailand. Paraguay. Finland. Japan. Mexico. Canada. Argentina. Brasil. Belgium. Germany. Colombia. Norway. Austria. USA. Venezuela. Honduras. Russia. Faroese Islands. 

The kids are back! 

My crew of local AFS chapters of Cesenatico October 2011 version has been sent by our darling volunteers to a big house in the middle of the mountainous nowhere about two hours from Bologna, sweet Bologna. Why? Hey, we don't really know either.

After a train and a bus ride of gittery//noisy foreigners, we arrived just to be sat down and (somewhat) quieted down for a moment (against our will). A volunteer stands before us and leaves that lingering silent moment - clearly something is going to be said. And then it comes; it's his bittersweet statement. It's short but surely powerful as I can feel the wheels in my brain turning. "Alright, so... five months. Halfway here and halfway gone. How's that going?"

In this middle-year camp for reflection, what really were my reflections?

• Above all, I'm lucky. Well duh. But I mean I have been blessed by placement into a good situation. Everyone's making the best of this, but that doesn't necessarily mean everyone has gotten it right on their first shot. Nobody's to blame; that's just one of the challenges we came here expecting. 
• I'm growing up. "It was one of those moments when you could practically feel the adult pushing out, pushing forward into the world. Perspective suddenly existed where it hadn't existed before. This was just the beginning... It seemed all at once too big and too simple an idea (Hannah Pittard)." The territory that comes with this sudden independence and change brings some kind of maturity. Or, hey, I can pretend until it's true. 
• I'm actually learning Italian? I can survive every day without using a word of English to explain myself. Now, don't worry - I'm not some fluent prodigy. But I'm living! I'm speaking! I'm loving it! ahhh. Fede's favorite game is when we Skype with Karen and I impress her will all my big pretty foreign words that have brutally ugly and rude meanings. He loves it. (oops, did I spill the beans? Sorry, Mom) 
• I am happy. 

This camp has basically served to give us a break for the consideration and good company. It came just in time, I was much in need of some quality time with them. Looking back on Cesenatico it's so strange to see how much we've all changed physically and mentally. I see the more timid and well-behaved ones breaking out of their shell (obviously influenced by this expressive culture). I see maturity. I see comfort. I see such happiness. 

Ah, and I see new faces. The half-year students have arrived and are rockin' that lost look I remember finding in the mirror just some time ago. Of the new kids, I had the most fun with two Chileans understanding quickly this beautiful messy language (thanks to Spanish - ugh, I'm jealous). I did my best to play with a little of their own language but it came back to me all messed up. Only I would manage, "Let's go eat - I have many men." WHOOPS! Oh whatever, just doing my best to fulfill all these ridiculous American stereotypes, right? 

So anywhoo, five down and five to go. It feels like I just got here but I haven't been home in forever. In these last two weeks, I have finally started to miss you all. Oh but not nearly enough to come home - no way, jose! 

big happy family

 

  

 

 

 

:)

It's weird to have someone sit you down and tell you to take a look at your life every once and a while. What have you accomplished lately? What do you still need to do? What problems have been developed and/or resolved? These aren't the things I think up by myself on the bus. I need someone to tell me: Hold up - what are you doing here? So I had my moment to sit back and really think about that. Take yours.

Arthur Symons says that a "realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him" and I cannot say I disagree. There's something about this Italian city that makes it different from the others. I can't explain it and anyone who hasn't been lucky enough to see it with their own eyes couldn't possibly understand anyways.


Venice, for me, is an old friend. A lucky little American two years made her way across the water in the company of the Kenney ladies (shout out to my girls). Yeah that's right - I've already been here. Visiting Erin's aunt, we made a little voyage out of it and stopped in Austria and Italy. Getting a glimpse of this city... oh it's so cliche to say this - I think I left a little of my heart there. I think it was a major contributor in the decision way back when I was in my AFS application/country-picking days. This city has a smell and an energy and a look that's unlike, quite frankly, anything. It convinced me that Italy needed to see a little more of me; so hey, here I am!

And now I'm back and ready to be where I've already been (that sounds like a sentence I'll be using July 2012). I made my way to the train station after a super awkward encounter with my History teacher. I mean, we're buddies and all. But what is a teacher to think as he's making his way to school and meets his student on the street going the other way? You can hope and dream and cross your fingers all you want that he doesn't recognize you but once the words, "Oh, good morning, Natalie" flow from his mouth... boom. busted. I've had to teach all my classmates the word "awkward" because it practically doesn't exist in Italian and "strange" just wouldn't do this justice.

I obsessed over the train just as I always do but was surprised to see all my other little foreign freaks joining us too. Mirella (the big bad boss of AFS Bologna) teased me, "Well maybe you should more carefully read my emails, darling!" I guess I was the only one not paying attention when it was decided that the students of various areas united in our Cesenatico camp would go to Venice together as well. Jackpot!

They basically dragged us in a rush from the station to the very heart of the city with teasing sights of beauty all around. Their purpose, we learned upon arrival, was to get us there as quickly as possible so they could let us free as soon as possible. The volunteers figured, "We suppose you are all the young, responsible and aware young adults we imagine you to be so go have a great time and don't be late - we will leave you here." Sweet.

It was overwhelming to focus on Venice, my long lost friends and the swarm of tourists and dressed-up carnival fans all at once. Now you know your girl has a knack for making friends in the right places, so does it surprise you when I called dibs on Anna, the Icelandic ex-Venice resident who recently joined our Emilia-Romana chapter after her host family switch? Oh it's great to be me. She played tourist guide to a small group of us to show as all the finest of Venice. The weirdest part was walking around and actually remembering seeing this and that. It's like a deja-vu I know really happened but it still surprises me that the memories are so vivid.

What a beautiful day, what a beautiful city, what a beautiful group of friends.
It was such a nice break to be messing up Italian among the company of kids in the same boat.
It was such a nice break to get out of cold and slushy Bologna to sunny and sweet Venice.
It was such a nice break to be with my AFSers for the first time for more than an hour in so long.
It was such a nice break to see something already seen (but with new eyes).

Picture overload starting..... now! 

 

 

  

 

LINCOLN?! fancy meeting you here.

 

 

We like to wear out our volunteers.
Work well done!

 

blonde + beuuutyfewl :*

hi friend :)

I beg you to try to find
a cranky Chilean

Denmark, Chile, Norway, USA, Russia, Japan. Heyo!

Wine fountain? Don't mind if I do.

So crowded // omg I'm allergic to people

Omnomnom

Seeing my foreigners for such a short day was just a tease really. Luckily, we said goodbye quickly because - guess what! - we had the whole weekend together. AFS Camp Round 2 here we come....