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Forthe last month it's been a whirlwind of people, either visiting or being visited. Jess, Mom, Ian etc....
I decided to head to Spain for a weekend. And, after a severe miscommunication in regards to destination airports, I spent six hours on buses and trains trying to get to a smaller town that would have only been an hour away by car otherwise.Of the mix ups that occurred, that's the one I'm currently willing to admit to in public.Turns out I can get anywhere I need to go in a pinch, and my suspicion that people are generally kind and helpful played out to be true in this case, but I may not be the hot little traveller that I thought prior to that little trip.Here's to being forcefully grounded by ones own follies.
Upon my return from Spain, at which point I was feeling very at home in Italy where I at least understand the language, my mom arrived from Canada.Her visit was lovely, and difficult.It was wonderful to spend time with her, but both her visit and all the others of the month, shined a light on my life here.It's hard to see that kind of mirror sometimes.
I have realized, for instance, that I only tell about the happy times in my life, and I try to make everything sound fantastic even when there's a dark side.Don't get me wrong, there are many fabulous things in my life to be happy about and thankful for, but that doesn't mean I have to indulge in my tendency to completely skip over all other events or feelings as well.I know I mentioned loneliness in my last post, but it's so much more than that.Who wants to read a travel blog about bad or hard times?Nobody wants to hear that (said the niggling voice in my mind).But as a very good friend said: "I do!"Perhaps it's time I tried to be more truthful of how it is to move to another country and attempt to live there, even if it's just for a time.
There is a wonderful sense of freedom that comes from letting things go (I mean that both literally and figuratively) and moving to another place.I walk down the streets of a new city and I feel exhilarated, as if I am seeing everything new.There'sa sense of balance in this type of move; perhaps it's a combination of running from the mirrors presented by those that know you best and running to the mirrors that you hide within yourself the most.I have to say, the hardest part is missing the reflections of others in the mirror.It must be different for every person, but for me, life's just not the same without people I love in my life.So as wonderful as Italy is, with the fabulous wine, food, clothes, culture, environment etc....how much does it really mean without people to share it with? Yes, I have family here. And it's wonderful to spend time with them. But it's also a LOT of work to re-establish a relationship with them, work that is not always fun. They also have their own lives, and I spend a lot of time alone. I also miss the company of peers, though I am slowly gaining more friends here.
When you move to a new place, and barely speak the language, there is a sense of loss that is profound.Loss of meaningful contact (no matter how much you place yourself out in public), loss of purpose (until you find your place, there's only so much sightseeing, school etc that one can do), loss of security (financial and social).It's an incredibly difficult place to be, harder to stay in, and at the same time full of potential for growth.I feel for those that have moved to places without the language and contacts to back them up.It's a hard thing.I have incredible respect for those who have even tried, let alone succeeded, in moving to new places.There is so much that I don't even have the words for, so for now, that is all.
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