I’ve spent the past year
announcing to friends, family and acquaintances that I will be spending a
semester in Florence. Each reaction is the
same: “Oh, you’re going to love it!” Their reactions were perfectly
reassuring that I would have an amazing adventure ahead.
I’ve been told the
food is great. I’ve been told the lifestyles are different from Americans. I’ve
been told about the inspiring art. I’ve been told about pick-pocketers. I’ve
been told about the magnificence of the ancient structures and buildings. I’ve
been told about the claustrophobic atmosphere of the busy city life in
Florence. I’ve been told about the magic of the atmosphere. I’ve been told to
carry change because sometimes it’s necessary for the toilets. I’ve been told to
remember that I’m there to “study.” I’ve been told that studying abroad is life
changing. I’ve been told that homesickness will set in. I’ve been told…
Now all that aside,
I want to claim this experience as my own. I’m doing my best to clear all preconceived
notions and taking each moment as they come to me.
So just to reassure all who are reading this (namely
my parents who are probably quite worried about me), here I am, in Florence!
I have arrived safely, but not in the most peaceful manner. Meg and I had to deal with
multiply flight cancelations, delays and a not so happy moment when we thought
there would be yet another cancelation which would have meant sleeping in
Germany for the night and missing orientation. Luckily there were other
students from our school at our gate who were in the same position as us. We
quickly made friends, after realizing that their quizzical looks mirrored our
own.
So after too many hours of airports, airplanes and no sleep, I am currently
settled quite nicely into my new - very Italian styled - apartment. I’ll be
honest, I still can’t quite get my head around the fact that I’m officially here
for the next four months. Some people said that once my bags were packed,
it would begin to register. Others assured me as soon as I was watching the
States drift away from the plane window, it would start to sink in. Mostly everyone
agreed that by the time I actually stepped out of the airport in Italy, it
would really hit me. But no! I still feel like I’m on a vacation, and am fully expecting someone to walk
through my apartment door, tell me this was just some sort of prank and that
it’s time to go home.
The transition has
happened and my expectations are now merging with reality. The Vespa’s whiz
around me, people are yelling in a foreign language and each cobblestoned street
has its own personality. So far, my stay in
Florence has showed me that each day is better than the last. With a seemingly
infinite amount of museums to explore, wine to drink, and mouth watering food
to stuff yourself silly with, I’m excited to say that there is so much more that
awaits. I knew I was going to like the place, since I find enjoyment in
anything that is new. This was going to be quite the vacation. But wait, this was
not a vacation. And thus began the second transition in my first few days here: the
mental transition from a “vacation” in Florence to a “lifestyle” in Firenze. Florence, you are one sweet piece of Medieval and
Renaissance beauty and I cannot wait to continue to discover all that you are.
Thank you to all who
have supported and encouraged me this past year as I have prepared for this
incredible experience. I feel so blessed to have this amazing opportunity.
P.S. I apologize for
my lack of photos thus far. It has been nonstop raining practically from the
second we got here. But not to worry, there will be plenty to come. (:
