Boots and English.

To many, what I am about to say may seem so pointless. However, I do not care. Today I got my first pair of Italian leather boots. I am writing about this for 2 reasons. One, because I want to tell my mom about them, but our phones are down.. she is the only one who will probably be as excited as me, if not more. And secondly, because clearly boots are a part of the culture here. I will go as far as saying, a necessity. Upon coming here, I decided to volenteer in some way, since I would be here for three months. I am teaching English to native Italians every Tuesday night. It is so eye opening. Being in this city, has humbled me SO much. For anyone who has never left the US, you have no idea how hard it is to walk down a street, looking for a grocery store, bank, or better yet, a specific restaurant in downtown Rome, and not be able to ask for help or when you do ask, actually understanding the directions. It gets frustrating after a while.. no matter how many phrases I look up, until I am concrete in my Italian skills.. I will not be able to communicate. Anyone that knows me.. knows that I love to talk to strangers. I thrive off of it. It is starting to hit me, the fact that I am a stranger, an alien, a foreigner to this town. Being the minority is HARD. Hearing the level of  English that these Italians could speak tonight was shocking. They were learning the body parts.. hearing someone try to say "teeth" amazed me. English is the hardest language to learn, (argue with me if you'd like). We have more slang and informal phrases than any other language. It was a breathe of fresh air, to hear the words of my language. I love the level of "help" that a language class can bring.. a sense of bonding between two different cultures. When I am in my Italian class, my professor wants nothing more than to help and teach me to the best of her ability. I love being able to give back, to pass the gift of English on to those that need my help. It is amazing that here I am, abroad in Italy, and each week, I get to be a term of reference for residents of this country. I always thought it would be vice versa.

Run like the Romans do.

Today is a good day. I have found my running community. You see, everywhere I have run thus far, I get stared down, almost hit by every smart car that passes, or have to stop every 3 feet to wait for a green light. Finally a running park where it does not matter if my hair is blonde and my eyes are blue as long as my Nike shoes are running at the same pace as those around me. It is nice to have a little piece of home with me. A place where I blend in. A place to pursue one of my favorite passions. And better yet, it is surrounding by villas that look like castles and plants flourishing left and right. Never knew I could enjoy my runs even more.

Taking personality personally.

Sometimes it is really difficult for me to understand people. Personality types have always bothered me. Is that egotistical to say? I shouldn't be wanting everyone to be just like me. All I wish I had in life was the opportunity to meet people who actually care. Who care enough to put forth the effort in any relationship. Diversity is a beautiful thing. That word gets thrown around a lot with the wrong definition in mind. A definition I read about and really appreciate is that diversity means, "a point of difference." That means somewhere in someones life, they hit a point that caused them to move in a different direction. They chose a different path than what we chose. They experienced different things and had different outcomes. Living here in Rome has really tested me with this concept. I live in a convent (yes, with nuns) and with 19 other college students, ranging from the west coast to the east and everything in between. Of course, that calls for conflict, tension, and weird encounters of every kind. My prayer all along on this trip has been to accept others for their beliefs and upbringing. How much is too much? How many rude remarks and glares do I take before I can stop putting forth effort? I understand that we are different and that some people are more emotional than others. Judgment can break up some great potential relationships though. I am by no means perfect at this or have it all figured out. The number one thing helping me accept other people studying here in this convent is knowing that although we all have a different "point of difference", our point of likeness is that we are all here in Rome from across the country looking for a connectedness needed in some corner of our lives.

Beautiful.

Wow, I feel as though I have no time to even sit down and think about all that I have been doing. It is crazy to think I have only been in Rome for one week.. feels more like a month! Yesterday we took a trip to the San Clemente church.. it was so amazing. It is a three level church and each level was built without the knowledge of the first level being there. You can really see the progression of society and life in each church as they are built on top of each other. It is hard to believe that things that old still exist. It is so easy to brush off history as something in the past. I learned about history my whole life and I always associated it with something lost. Something old. Something pointless. In all honesty I can say that (don't judge, I have sat through some pretty boring history classes). Being here in one week has opened my eyes to a world that not only was demolished, lost, and of the past. But, a world that is still standing and is beautiful. It is beautiful. It started to make me think about all of the newer modern buildings that are standing in America today. They are ugly. They get torn down within 5 years of the start of their existence. The beauty found in this place that I am living in, is one that is discovered but not defined. For crying out load, cities in America refuse to put a restaurant in town because their marketing colors don't "match" the rest of the surrounding buildings. What is beauty? Why is it defined by the eyes of high decision makers? Isn't beauty something philosophical? Something that is a possession of subjectivity? I live across the street from the Afghanistan embassy and there are at least 3 other embassies in the surrounding area. I was expecting to see just Italians here. I was wrong. Of course, Rome is touristy so there are cameras flashing at big historical sites in the hands of countries represented. However, the mixture of culture and language is a ringing sound in my ears as I am walking down streets of cobblestone and viewing buildings of marble. And I am convinced that I will not see a more beautiful site until I am in heaven. Isn't this what heaven will be like? When all the nations come together? Of course, there will be a common relationship with the living God verses standing in a line to see the Colosseum. Why is beauty on earth defined by the selfishness of this world and driven by a goal of wanting "more". Beauty is subjective. Beauty is culture. Beauty is not only the created nature, but the things made by man to reflect what God's creatures can really do.

Can I move here now?

I am falling in love with this city. It is hard to fathom each and every day as I wake up that I live in such an enchanting place. Today I had my first run in Rome. How I lasted 4 days without one? I don't even know. It was amazing to run down a cobblestone road of history. Everywhere I look is a monument of culture. Being in a completely different country has opened my eyes to the flawed life I have been living. Italy is not perfect by any means, but America is so self centered. It makes me sad to think that I can walk down the street at home, texting, and not even looking up once. Italians know a time and a place for everything and follow those standards daily. As I walk these roads, I cannot help but to look at all the doors around me.. I have always loved the look of doors. They symbolize such a significant part of any home or building. The doors located here are decorated with fragments of history, I will never know all of the people that have walked in and out of them that have had an influence on this world. A door can represent a hello or a goodbye. A start or an end. The beginning of something or the end of another. When it all comes down to it, a door requires a person with a goal. A decision. A final destination or just a first chapter.

Here at last.

I am officially in Rome. The trip took FOREVER. 10 hours on a plane is a really long time, regardless of how many movies you watch. Once arriving here, I could not believe how clear everything is. The air is so crisp and cool and it is always the perfect temperature. The first and second day were really hard, jet leg sucks. I was seriously up for a total of 30 hours straight.. I started to see double by the time I got to sleep. It is so weird to think that I am in a foreign country.. I have been really busy with orientation, (I forgot I actually have to do school here ha). In my free time I have been walking the streets with Patrick and have been trying ever bar (coffee shop) possible! Gotta find my favorite :) I love the neighborhood we live in. People stare like they have never seen a blonde.. ha! I defiantly stand out here. I feel like Italy is what you would see in a fairy tale.. the streets, architecture, and culture is something I have never experienced before. Each building has such a history to it. A hidden beauty. It is weird to not be the majority, to not be able to do something simple as read a sign or build board. Even though the Romans live such a busy and fast pace life here, they live a simplistic lifestyle. They communicate. They talk to those on the street, instead of looking at their cell phones and ignoring the hustle around them.

Tomorrow.

I am used to traveling. Airplanes, packing, goodbyes.. these are all very familiar to me. As I think about leaving the country tomorrow morning, a foreign emotion posses my being. I am packing, not very well might I add, for three months. To live in a place where I do not speak the common language, to interact with those that have a completely different history than myself, to eat food that I have never seen, and to see places that I did not even know existed aside from google images. I hope that as I start this journey that I do so with an open heart to jump into things I will never get the chance to do again. I have made the decision that today is my last day of being "comfortable". I'm sitting on my cozy queen size bed, with my Starbucks in hand, texting my friends goodbyes. I am going to change my way of life for three months and give up my favorite "necessities". I am a strong believer in the fact that you grow the most when you are taken out of your comfort zone. When you are given the chance to adapt to something new, you feel life in a different emotion. One of my favorite quotes that is repeating through my head today is by St Augustine, "The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page."