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.