June 29th
Internal motivation makes me feel guilty for writing in English but after two days of travel in three diverse countries maybe English is best...for now. Sorry Ms. Howard (my current italian instructure back at home) but I can assure you I've been reading, speaking and perhaps eavesdropping on as much of the italian language as possible.
Since our plane flew over northern Italy early this morning at God knows what time (jet lag is still killing) I convinced myself I was in a dream. Tall mountains peaked through the clouds adjacent to our plane, while down below numberous houses sat condensed in between the mountain range. Before the plane even touched the ground I was already in awe. After years and years of studying Italian I could finally prove it to myself that it was actually real. Here I was....in Florence...unbelievable.
On the bus ride to our appartments, my nose was pressed against the window while my eyes took in as much as they could. No streets or buildings in New Jersey were anything like those of Florence. I was in a different world of skinny cobblestone streets, tall yellow buildings with speeding vespas in between.
The appartment itself is also flawles! With two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen AND a sit down area, it was too much to ask for! The white walls and dated curtains comfort me as if I were visiting my grandparents house...if a foreign country is suppose to make you feel different and out of place....well Florence would be a horrible example. Walking down the streets and hearing italians converse comforts and excites me all at the same time. I know this language, I know this culture: we were already introduced back at home but now we're inseperable.
My favorite part of the adventure so far has been walking along the streets of Florence. Although modernized, Firenze's cobblestone streets give a stubborn vibe...as if they were shouting at the foreign franchised stores above them; "we were here first. People dont come to Florence to visit you!" which is certainly true.
Now its almost 10 which means 4 back in Basking Ridge. Knowing my family my Dad is probably sitting in his brown chair watching the latest golf tournament while my Mom watched Mike jump 50 times of the high dive at PVP. While I love being here independently I do miss them. Looking outside my balcony I hear the night life of Florence...I wish I could join but the beeb on my watch reminds me of jetlag and the journey I've had since the drive to JFK with Mom, Dad, and Mike. I love you guys and I'll see you soon. But to Florence....mi sono innamorato.
