I am now really Viaggiando Vento-ing. I have not been reincarnated to be one with the wind, to a force of wind. But I am now traveling with the forces of the wind. I have boarded the steel bird, it’s right wing stretches out, but it does not flap. It flies still. Not silently, but still.
I am not still. I have tried to rest, but I seem incapable of doing so. Before take off I sent out a mass text to all my loved ones: “Goodbye! Adios! Arriverdechi! I’m off to Philly and then Brussels and then Bologna! Hugs and kisses until we meet again.” I was even able to sneak some phone calls in, even after the stewardess announced all electronics must be turned off. To tell you the truth, I don’t even think I know how to turn my phone off properly.
My 23-year-old sister sent me a text I have been thinking about- it said not to worry about keeping in touch with people from Miami because this time will soon be gone, gone but not forgotten, and that I should enjoy my time in Italy. Her simple text sent over to me a lot of peace. I will communicate when I can and how I can- although I think that still makes Mami and Papi a little apprehensive- although it should make Papi feel calmer because the phone bill won’t be an expensive bundle! Mercedes, my Nicaraguan housekeeper whom I woke up to chat with this morning, told me that I have won the lottery- that I am very opportuned and blessed and to not to be scared and nervous, rather I should be excited and happy. She related it to her coming over from Nicaragua to the states, but I do not think of it as the same. Moreover, that just makes me think how blessed and privileged I am to go to another country to study abroad. Will tells me he doesn’t want to hold me back, and this too gives me peace. I am able to fully enjoy myself and seize all I can, no matter the advice or words, I am who sets the advice in action. And I will be in action.
A pen popped all over my hand as I poured my thoughts into a pocket journal- an absolutely essential (and absolutely useful and loved) gift.
The first page is dated January 14, 2001
Flight to Philadelphia
I’ve boarded the first plane of three to arrive to my destination of Bologna, Italy. Not just a destination, but a place, another country I will soon call home, “la casa” (phew that’s an easy one)- Or like my grandfather says, a base place- as I will be traveling around, as often as I can, to other surrounding, and not so surrounding cities and towns.
I’m now above the city of Miami, the city I still call my city. THE 305! I’m flying above the waters where I have immersed myself and rejuvenated myself over the years. Where I have swum, fished, traveled across and where as a child I believed to have become a part of it by peeing in it.
The steel bird, still an American eagle, reflected off the glass walls of the airport and as I glanced out the window it assimilated the looking of a rapidly swimming shark. Still a Miami feel. The sky is the seas of the above.
My flight was scheduled for an earlier departure than printed on my schedule! 1:40p.m. instead of the foretold 2:15p.m. departure- those 35 minutes make a difference, at least for a somewhat Cuban! But, I made it! Only a quick run to the ladies room, as my friend Meg and I would say “to powder our noses,” and I was already being called to board. No time to let it all start hitting me, it still hasn’t hit me that I’m leaving the United States of America for almost 4 months! I’ve been privileged enough to have traveled to Europe, Guatemala, the Islands of the Bahamas, and many states in the US. Yet, I’ve always traveled with the sense that I’ll be returning home soon (and mostly with my parents or chaperones. I travel with the sense and knowing that I am returning to my bed- (nothing soothes more than being greeted by your bed, sleeping in your own bed all wrapped up in your comforter after a trip), returning to my dog, to the distinct smell of my house and to all the people I love who live in it. This time I won’t be going back for a while. I’ll be arriving in Bologna to live. L I V E.
A young boy, maybe not to young, perhaps 16 or so, and his sister were already sitting in the row I was assigned to. The 16 or so young man and his younger sister are now both sleeping and holding hands. They remind me so much of the love I have with Manny and my sisters. (I already miss them, kind of). This boy helped me with my bag and had trouble speaking English, but I thanked him anyway and he just nodded his head. He has a sweet face, and his face spoke “your welcome” rather than his lips speaking the words. I hope I find other strong and kind people to help me snug that bag into the overhead compartment I can barely reach!
I look out the window before I put on my noise blocking earmuffs (headphones)- thanks Santa! (And thanks to Nina who organized a new play list of hip songs to replace my Hannah Montana tunes!) I soon escape into the world of music to hopefully get some rest before I land in Philly to catch up and share my excitement with Chelsea!
I take a quick peak out the window- the sea sits still. Or so I am led to believe it does by what I look at. It looks like a painting of a wave- still- yet, you know the wave wants to crash and it cannot. The one ocean is many hues of blues and you cannot tell where a new color begins because they all blend into each other, yet are they are there own color in their own spot of the sea. Like each of us in this world. I am above the ocean now, but below me there is more life- although these passengers are pretty lively- a crying baby, two chatting ladies- actually that’s all I heard before I put on my fierce ear muffs. The clouds look like they are taking a nap on the sea- they seem to be just lying right above it, touching it, but very lightly. The sand has a pattern of ripples like a mattress. Oh how I would like to rest on that too. The moon is out to play. It is indeed time of day, but the moon is facing me and winking at me instead of the sun so I’ll take a rest now.
36 seconds later and my body awakens to the sound of music- my finger’s tap, my foot pulses up and down, my “bobette” head bobs up and down. I can’t wait for the music of Italia and all the Italian noise to awaken me- to awaken my mind, body and spirit.
The clouds look like the jellyfish field from finding Nemo. I just want to bounce from one to the next and to the next and to the next- all the way to Collegio Alma Mater in Bologna! Talk about traveling green! I have too much excitement bubbling inside of me to just be sitting here in my seat constrained by a seat belt. It looks like the jellyfish clouds spread out over the entire sea sky until they fall of the face of the Earth.
Due to the change of timing, not delayed but surprisingly earlier, I had no time to grab a lunch. I am full of hunger- for Italy, for adventure. “Ley vorreybe manjare cual coza adezo?” (Spelling?) I learned that off my Pimsleur discs. Would you like to eat something right now? I reply to my self-imposed question- why yes, Italy please…and a glass of your finest wine.
Mami and I hugged and hugged and hugged and hugged and let go and then looked at each other and hugged and hugged and hugged some more. I didn’t cry but I felt as if I should have. I felt like a big kid. An adult filled with childish excitement. I hugged my mommy and entered through the airport doors pushing a cart with my two luggage’s and my laptop carry case. I’m sure the luggage all looked bigger than me, but I felt like the biggest big kid. I have just turned twenty, but I wont let that number sound old to me.
Side thought of flying across America: The US is all so different from above. Miami is not a gridded field of grass like the unknown state I am above- it’s just squares of more different colored grass squares. It looks like the pictures from the power points of my Environmental Biology class. It’s just too gridded for my liking.
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