so something strange happened to me today. while going on my usual run around the river, crossing the bridges and weaving in and out of people walking home from mass in the noon sun, i think i tricked myself into believing i was back at home. Beneath the cloudless sky my breath evened out in time to Country Roads, and my feet composed a rhythm, naturally leading me down my familiar tree lined path. Maybe it was the mix of the sixty degree weather or the long-memorized country songs singing through my speakers, but i swear for that half hour I was in Schoolcraft Michigan. I was taking a run around the track in the early summer afternoons. Watching my feet lead me forward, feeling the breeze ruffle my sweatshirt, I was back home. And then I stopped.
It was weird, but it was like I realized all over again that I was in Rome. Sometimes I just have to repeat the sentences in my head and standing on the side of the bridge, out of breath from my run, that's what I did.
I am not at home. I am not at school. I am in Italy. I am standing on the sidewalk. I am breathing. It's hard to breath. My heart is racing. I'm sweating. This Notre Dame sweatshirt was too warm for today. It is March 3rd. Why is it so warm? It's snowing at home. It's cold there. This is not home. I'm in Rome.
Rome. Rome. Rome.
It's like I forget sometimes, and I need to remind myself, and when I do I'm overwhelmed with a sense of ..."I can't believe I'm here," all over again. Being here on a regular basis, you get caught in a sense of routine and become desensitized to everything. The Pantheon becomes this thing you walk by when you're on your way to the store, the food becomes something you eat in a hurry when you're late for class, and the whole country becomes just the place you're living between traveling weekends. In a way it's good. Every time I'm away, on those long weekends after touring around a new city, I get an urge to return to my routine and my bed. My little home back in the Tiziano. It's always there waiting for me, with it's easy familiarity and peace. Rome is peace to me now, its no longer new but comfortable... and that's nice. But still, I have so little time left here that I never, not for a moment, want to forget where I am. I need to constantly remind myself to take it all in. No one likes to hear the story of an abroad student who forgets she's abroad...
So after my run I went back, threw on a sundress, and went out by myself and let the day take over. I shopped down the streets by the Spanish Steps and wandered around the stores crowded with Sunday shoppers. I let my mind wander over things. Things that are trivial and don't deserve to be typed for all to see, things that just float in and out of my head like a whisper, and things that are important and you have no business knowing, I had time for all things today. After hours lost amongst the clothes, strangers, and thoughts that made up my afternoon, I headed back to the hotel. About a block away, I stopped.
Well here I am.
I am standing in front of the Pantheon. The sun is directly above it. The shadow falls across the square but standing on the fountain is warm. There was no need for a sweater today. The sky is faultless. I'm glad I brought my sunglasses out. There is a violin playing. He's good, very good. The melody sounds familiar, but I don't know why. This building is so tall. If I could climb up and sit on the top I would be invincible. I bet I could catch a breeze up there. I'd put it in my bag and zip it in. It'd be a good souvenir, an Italian Sunday. I'm smiling...I probably look ridiculous. I'm happy. Today was good. I'm standing in front of the Pantheon in the piazza, surrounded by people. Everyone's talking. The words are there but strange, and yet I recognize some. Lilting Italian. I'm in Italy. This is Italy. Not South Bend. Not Schoolcraft. Rome.
I probably sound crazy, but maybe people who've been away for a long time will understand. Lines between homes get blurry and confusing, but in the end it's not about which one is which. It's about a feeling you get, a feeling of rightness when you are where you should be.
Today was a nothing sort of Sunday. If you skip this post in the blog, I wouldn't blame you at all.
I still have Country Roads stuck in my head. I'll let it stay there for a while. Maybe it'll remind me of home, but then again maybe it won't anymore.
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