Finding Normalcy

     

As life continues to speedily move by, I search for things in Florence that give me a sense of comfort, a sense of home. I have found a couple of things that remind me of my life back home, or things that humanize the lives of people who live here. For example, I was walking to class early in the morning when I walked past these two boys about the age of 9. One was crouched on the ground, using the bench as a table as he scribbled something into a notebook as the other kid stood next to him. As I got close enough to see what he was doing, I realized the boy was copying the homework answers from his friend. I thought to myself, so they do it in Italy to, eh? It brought me back to Mr. Forshey’s 8th grade math class. 

             

        When I start feeling distant from my homeland, I enjoy walking through the park when the kids get out of school. The parents are picking them up from the school across the street, hugging them while the kids show them their recent accomplishment in art class. It’s such a joy to see the parents with their little Italian tater tots, running around, screaming Italian gibberish, which sounds a lot like English gibberish. I’m not a creep, who just stands there and watches the children. I walk with a purpose and glance over every now and then. 

  

      I’ve also been reverting back to my childlike tendencies of “sickness descriptions.” The point-to-where-it-hurts tendency. I have strep throat, so I’ve been trying to explain to my host mom where the pain is. We’re becoming very good at charades. 

     Another way I find normalcy here is the Bible study. There’s nothing quite like a group of Christians meeting together to bring a sense of comfort and common ground. We’re all studying abroad in a new country, and we all love Jesus. There’s nothing too complicated about it.

       The last way I like to get into my comfort zone is listening to music on my way to class. One thing I really miss here is driving in the car, by myself, with my music of choice (I miss my alone time.). Because I walk everywhere here, I have a lot of time to listen to my jams. I enjoy secretly swaying my arms to the beat of Ben Rector. No one has to know, although I sometimes feel like my cadence walking is a bit too obvious, because I begin feeling like I’m on a catwalk. 

      It’s things like these that help me adjust to my life here. I love Italian culture, but there are just some habits that I can’t give up from the good ol’ U-S-of-A.