Post-Rome blog

Post-Rome.

I’m back in the U.S. where the bombardment of American culture has begun.

I guess it is nice coming back to a place where nothing has changed--a stasis or foundation which I call home. The United States has always been my home, but Rome itself has been my home-away-from-home for the past three months. I can’t help but think that Rome will call me back. It IS calling me back. I know I will go back someday. Although it won’t be the same story as my most recent experience, it will still be the Rome I love.

The last couple of days in Rome saw me walking my favorite streets for the last time. I savored every last moment, not knowing when I would be back to visit my beloved Roma. Roma, from the beginning, has been close to my heart. Immediately, I felt connected, I felt like I could call it mine, for some reason. In a sense, it’s true: Rome invites everyone to be a part of it because it can be said to be the foundation for culture. Everyone can be “Roman”, as the historian Remi Brague says. We all have a certain “Roman-ness” in us, in so far as we are affected by Rome’s history, which has an impact on European history, and Western Civilization.

Having lived in Rome for three months really drew me into Rome as whole. I was able to experience its culture. I was able to immerse myself in the deeper reality of what it means to be Roman! Rome calls everyone back, especially if one throw coins into the Trevi Fountain, or drink from the fountain, as The Marble Faun so superstitiously reminds us!

Post-Rome depression has started to sink in, but just when I thought I couldn’t handle the thought of leaving, I realized that as great as my experience was in Rome, I must move on. I must continue to live what I learned through my experience. I have to take it with me in the next step of life. Knowing I’ll go back is propelling me to go forward. My experience in Rome will always be a lasting memory. As my professor, Dr. Connell said, “I’ve learned to be happy no matter where I am, not matter what I’m doing.” There is so much truth in that statement. We cannot dwell on the past, or live in the future; if so, we pass the present, paying no attention to the fleeting moment. I must learn, hopefully over time, to be happy in my present state, no matter where life takes me.

It has been weird being back. It is so not what I expected. I have definitely experienced culture shock. It wasn't until I went out shopping with my sister a couple of days ago that I experienced the overwhelming differences. Apart from the foreign concept of "courtesy" that I witnessed almost everyone I went, I have found Americans to be more down to earth, friendlier people. And, I don't know how to react. I have caught myself on numerous occasions cutting lines, driving recklessly, and saying "grazie" or "scussi". NO JOKE. My sister couldn't believe when I cute a family to get on the train at the airport. I have to practice more patience and courtesy.

Adjusting to being back has been hard, not gonna lie. The first couple of days weren't bad because of the hustle and bustle of everything and settling in. I think it hit me yesterday that it hasn't been too hard because I'm forcing myself not to think about it. Once I do, I get really "home-sick" for Rome. Yet, I've come to a conclusion: life must go on. And, if life must go on, then we must take what these three beautiful months have taught us and live them! The memory of the past three months is something I will cherish forever; it's beautiful that it was a part of my life. It exists as just that: a memory. Yes, I have tangible elements that I have brought with me, but only to remind me of the great adventures we had. Never again will I experience the opportunity to spend three months in Rome with the people I did, but it was wonderful while it lasted. I guess the struggle now, at least for me, is to take what I've learned as a step in the direction of where God's leading me next!

Despite the minor difficulties adjusting, I’m settling back into the American life-style with as much ease as is expected, I suppose. It has been most difficult finding a place that even feels or reminds me of European living. I’m currently at a coffee house where I at least can drink my cappuccino in a mug. It, in some way, reminds me of the many Italian cappuccinos I drank, although the taste comes nowhere near the ones I savored on a daily basis. I miss the clanking of dishes whiles passing the countless bars on the Roman streets. I miss the Italian bartenders asking in Italian what I would like to order, and my reply (in the best Italian I could): “Vorrei un cappuccino per favore! Caldo! Grazie.”

What a struggle it is to maintain a joyful spirit, when I know my heart was left in Rome. I may seem over-dramatic, but being the emotional person (or, at least, deeply touched person) that I am, I can’t help but feel emotionally attached to such a romantic city as Rome. As I said before, I know somehow, I will go back to my beloved Rome, to see again the sights and hear again the sounds that I so dearly miss. How am I to find a comparison? How am I to see life in the same way? I’m not. I must live Rome in spirit, allowing it to penetrate my soul so as to touch others.