Here I am. Finally. I have been here for just over a week now and my what a week it has been.
I arrived Thursday and Friday afternoon began the house hunt. We were given addresses of open houses and were sent into this foreign city, in this foreign country, with this foreign culture, and foreign language. It felt like a mad dash to grab housing and roommates before they were all swept up. Many of us (the students) had hopes of living with other Italian students, but we were quite discouraged after hearing how difficult it is to find a set-up like this. After the staff spoke on the topic most resigned to U.S. American roommates, and many had already decided on roommates and found housing by Friday night.
Saturday was consumed by aimless wandering in the guise of "house hunting." We were overwhelmed, discouraged, hot, lost (for the most part) and exhausted from the previous day and from jet lag. After heading back to the school to sit down and eat lunch, the girls who I had been wandering with decided to head back to the hotel, another 25-30 minute walk. I felt like I couldn't go "home" without making more progress than just seeing two overpriced apartments. I checked the board at the school just as an Italian man and woman were posting an add for an apartment with one single and one double room for rent were already two Italian girls set to move in as well! I was extremely interested and decided to ask Salvo, the owner, a few questions right there on the spot. Rent and location sounded very do-able so I set up an appointment with him to see the place 3 hours later.
As I was walking home I got the feeling that this was going to be the one. I really felt like I was going to end up living here but I only had one prospect for a roommate and another girl who I'd barely met who I would have liked to room with. Maleesa and Becca came with me to see the apartment and after deliberating outside for less than five minutes, we went back in and took the deal. The place was by no means perfect, but it would almost certainly be our only chance of living with Italians.
After the high of relief over finding a place to live was over, I hit a low where I feel like I've stayed since then. In buying a cell phone, cashing traveler's checks, choosing an apartment and beginning school I felt utterly overwhelmed and like I had made so many wrong and rash decisions just because I didn't know what the better option would be in this foreign country where I can't understand the language. The low point of feeling sorry for myself came when I was alone for the first time in Italy, making the 30 minute walk to the hotel from the bank (after changing $1500 of traveler's checks into only 1135 Euro) and it started pouring rain. Rain doesn't help raise anyone's spirits and certainly not if you are being soak through for 30 minutes in a foreign city. I don't think I am feeling quite as discouraged now as I was then, but I definitely don't feel like I was ever in the "honeymoon stage." I just don't think there was any time to enjoy things or else my trip might have started off differently.
I was so relieved when Thursday came and I was able to move into my apartment and finally get settled, only to realize that my landlord, Salvo, was going to be staying in the front room until Tuesday. He is an extremely nice man, but I still feel like I am in that stage of limbo between really living in a place and being a guest in someone's home. That is where I am at the moment, but I know things will get better with time. My Italian roommates will move in tomorrow and I can only hope that they are friendly and don't smoke (EVERYONE here smokes).
At this point I feel like besides the beautiful, old buildings, Firenze is simply another city; swarming with tourists, pigeons and pickpockets and the streets smell like pee and garbage just as they do in New York City. The men do not pinch your butt or yell "Ciao bella," at every corner as I was told before I came (unless you are blonde haired and blue eyed like my roommate, Becca). Honestly, I was nervous for this behavior before I came, but hearing "Ciao bella" now might be a nice self esteem boost. Instead, not hearing it feels like a self esteem drop. Today I even had a homeless woman come up and ask us for money while on the street and when we said "No," she snatched the last of my lunch out of my hand, took a bite, and rubbed her belly telling us in Italian that she was hungry before walking away. I was stunned speechless as were Maleesa and Becca.I haven't even told you everything in this ridiculously long blog. I suppose I need to practice being more succinct. Bear with me on this. I won't always be a Debbie-Downer.
Jeremiah 29:11
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