Day 163

Today is the last day. Last night I was exhausted but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about leaving. Yesterday someone said I didn't look Chilean...that I looked Italian. I loved it. And I have to be somewhat OK at speaking the language because a lot less people look at me weird when I say something to them, they just keep talking, which is a good sign right? Plus I've gotten through half of my book that's in Italian...although maybe the fact that it's about the Mafia gives me away when people see what I'm reading. But I understand it.

I feel as though Rome has seeped into my skin, little by little. Like when I say Rome, I still think it's half way across the world, far away. But then after a few seconds I can feel that it has slowly changed for me. I've gotten to know it, I've discovered more of Rome's secrets.

Italians aren't breakfast people. They can go without eating in the mornings, but not without their coffee. Their tiny little espressos. In Rome you can basically park however you want as long as it fits and as long as you can get out later. Whether other people can or can't doesn't matter. Also, you know you're in all the way in the space when your car hits the other car- not before. Another thing, that I'm not too fond about actually is that restaurants charge you to sit down. Then they charge you for the bread they bring to the table without asking. I'd rather leave a tip.

There are 15 obelisks in Rome, more than 900 bridges, thousands of statues and 39 monumental fountains in Rome, all fed by an amazing (and old) aqueduct system. The water is always running in the streets here. Hot water is a different story. You have to make sure enough is heated before taking showers...although that hasn't been necessary for a while because it is SO HOT during the summer. Which doesn't help the stink of public transportation. Plus the bugs, who have been eating me alive by the way. Even Italians try and escape the heat in the summer...everything closes in August for at least a few weeks. It seems like that would almost be impossible to do in our society today, but as far functioning in this heat, they've got the right idea-you can't.

Let's see...The sirens never go away. In Positano the ambulance sounds were replaced by the buses honking their horns when on the curves of the cliffs, to let the cars coming in the other direction know they're there. But here in Rome it's always the ambulances. I don't even mind it really...it's become my soundtrack.

One of my favorites are the window shades. Integrated into all the buildings are these shades you can roll down. I'm sure they're for security, as well as privacy...but they double as blackout curtains. I've slept in a little later than usual a few times thanks to those.

And Italians. Italians are wonderful, happy, passionate people, who love to live. They love good food. Pasta and pizza are not just for show. They eat pasta almost always at least once a day and pizza once a week- The Italian Diet. They love being with people, and seeing beautiful things; il dolce far niente. They are passionate, but they are private too. They like their space. They like to do things in their own way. They're not aggressive, but when they get mad or frustrated, they are not afraid to show it. I was at the pizzeria in Napoli and this poor Chinese girl really got it from one of the waiters there because she didn't understand the number system and he didn't know how to explain it. In came the famous Italian hand gestures.

So, I feel like Rome is more mine than before. I can tell people about it in a different way than a tourist could. I have lived here for the past 163 days. I have seen so much, and met so many absolutely amazing people...and lived, and learned. I have learned to do things for myself, to be a little selfish sometimes. To stand up for myself. I've learned to not care what people think and that I am much more disciplined than I thought. Setting goals is wonderful, but you have to be brave to actually do something about them.

I've learned how to cook and how to speak Italian. Those are the best ones.

I just hope I have given something back to this beautiful city. I am so grateful and fortunate to have been able to do all of this. I want to remember what it was like here and to take this energy with me to get through next semester. I admit I can't help but feel it slipping away a little. But you gotta do what you gotta do.

Last night Valerio, Maria, Flavia and I went out to dinner. I rode the motorcycle on the way there and back...and drove past the Colosseum to see it for the last time, lit up like that. It made my stomach do a loop. You think it will always be there?

I said goodbye to Maria. I'll see her when she comes to Chile. I repacked a few times while I listened to the free music outside my window from the summer concerts at Basilica San Paolo across the river. It was a little cooler last night too. A perfect summer night.

Now my room is empty. I don't know if they're going to let my ridiculously heavy bags on the plane. I'm making Valerio come into the airport with me just in case. I am worrying about the little things, but really I can't imagine what it will be like once I'm sitting in my seat in the sky. It doesn't necessarily feel like it's over though, or that it will be.

I will be back. There are still things I haven't done.

Day 162- Falling From Cloud Nine

I am soon to be hit with so much reality I cannot bare thinking about it for more than a second. At a time. Because it seems like I can't stop thinking about it either.  It is absolutely insane how quickly time has passed. I am only days away of going back to Chile and as I had imagined, I'm not sure I'm ready. You would think after going through a lot of changes in life you might get used to change. Just a little? I don't mind it. Change is good. When you want it. I don't think I want it just yet.

I am missing a lot of people and slowly I am wanting things from Chile...like my bed. But goodbye's really get to me. Like I said before...I'm all about people. So I guess I've been trying to gradually get used to the idea. I've been going around town to get some things and in the process saying goodbye to the neighborhood. To the girl at the market, and to the old man that sells me mozzarella and parmigiano. Going for the last few runs on my track...

I got back from the Amalfi Coast with Carlos a few days ago and we enjoyed a few more things in Rome before he had to leave on Thursday night. But first...

We loved the Amalfi Coast. We took the unforgiving hot and stuffy train from Termini to Napoli, where we met a sketchy Chilean hippy, who spoke a funny combination of Chilean Spanish and Italian. Once we were there we found our way around the station and found the train we had to take to Sorrento. This time just as hot, but at least we had seats. In Sorrento we took a look at the map of the city, and since it looked tiny, we decided to walk around a little, luggage and all. I think it's one of the smallest towns I've been to, but very popular for cruises to stop at, so pretty lively. We went down some stairs on the side of a cliff and saw the Port of Sorrento, which was just as touristy chic as the town, then took en elevator back up the cliff to catch our 5:00 bus to Positano. Short and sweet visit of Sorrento.

Although I slept a little on the way to Positano, I caught the first few kilometers of the trip. Not your usual bus ride. Similar to Cinque Terre in Liguria, the Amalfi Coast has a bunch of little towns along it, but instead of a train, there are narrow windy roads along the side of the cliffs. So to get from one of them to another, you have a beautiful and at times frightening view of the sea and everything below. Not for those with vertigo. And even though most of the towns are pretty close together, it takes a while to get there because of the curves and of course because whenever two buses meet, there an intricate procedure of everyone backing up and organizing themselves so that one bus can get through. We both enjoyed it though.

By the time we got to Positano it was too late for the beach, so we left our stuff at the hostel (which being on the somewhat isolated coast of Italy, surprised us with rooms that only opened with your fingerprint), and went to look around a little. Soon, by looking around we understood that meant walking down...and then back up...the steps of Positano. We had been warned by the hostel website that to get to the beach it was more than 750 steps. "People who are not in the condition should know that to arrive to the beach, there are 700 steps to go down and up". Aparently we were barely in the condition. But we walked a few flights down, finding mysterious little nooks along the way, covered with flowers and decorated with beautiful Italian ceramic tiles. It was a little like a dream. The balconies were to die for. I wouldn't mind having one.

We found a place to have dinner and enjoyed everything at a much lower temperature than Rome...even more than Sicily. At one point I could have even put on a sweater. It was nice.

Back at the hostel, we sat outside for a while and met a few Argentinian girls. So we got to talking, and then after a while went to our room to sleep in our bunk beds. I was on top. God that sounds wrong. In spirit of leaving this laid back country, I won't rewrite it. :)

The next morning we went to Amalfi and spent most of the day at the beach. At lunch some guy who looked like he played Paolo in Friends (the Italian stereotype that goes out with Rachel) basically tried kicking us out for ordering a sandwich to share...but I was quickly recomposed by the wonderful Amalfi lemon sorbet...sooo fresh.

I did a little shopping (God bless Carlos' patience), we fit in another dip in the water, then hopped on the bus for Positano. There we decided to make our way down all the steps to the private beach to have an idea of where to go the next day. And we were quickly convinced when we saw how nice the beach was. We kept walking and made our way along the coast to the bigger, public beach, found the bus stop among little shops and buzzing tourists, and were back at the hostel. By then we were hungry so we ordered pizza to go at the same restaurant we had eaten at the night before (when the pizza dough served as bread is that good, you go back to try the pizza, right?). Hot pizzas in hand, we climbed the stairs from the restaurant to our hostel as quick as our (or my) physical state would allow us...and ate on the hostel balcony with an unreal view.

The next day was an all day BEACH day. we got some snacks and descended The Stairs again to the beach, where we stayed until they closed. We had lunch almost on the water, refilled our glasses of white wine numerous times, and tanned. And it's a good thing we were on the beach because it was insanely hot out. We were in and out of the water every five minutes. Once the sun subsided behind the hill, we walked to town to catch the bus, but ended up walking the rest of the way back. It took us a while, but I definitely don't think it was half as bad as going up all those stairs would have been. I don't know how the people that live there do it.

On our way back to Rome, I couldn't let Carlos leave without trying the best pizza in the world. So we walked a few blocks from the Napoli Centrale Station to the one and only Antica Pizzeria da Michele. There was of course a crowd around the place, so we got our number. And after about 45 minutes, I watched him savor each piece, dumbfounded by how perfect it was. I really thought it might be a little less good the second time, because most things are..........but oh my god. It's just so good...I don't understand.

After another few humid hours on the train, we were in Rome, packing. Which I'm still doing. Extra luggage is just the beginning. I think I'm going to have to do some rearranging...

To round up these wonderful months, yesterday we went out to celebrate Valerio's birthday. Very fun place called Roma Vintage, although I have to say there were some oddballs. And today (in between packing), I've been around a little with Mary on the bike...trying to take it all in. How can you just be in one country and then be somewhere else all of a sudden. Just a plane ride and everything is different. Isn't it weird?

It's almost over...