*Envoi - Rome, the Finale

When looking back upon my time at Rome, I’m not even sure where to begin, or what to say. I feel as if anything I could write would just be a humble jumble of repetitive praise for everything I’ve done, and nostalgic admiration of my favorite moments. Though as a reflection, I suppose that sounds about right.

If a family member was asking me the traditional question, “what was your favorite part,” I don’t know if I could answer. Almost everything was wonderful in it’s own way. Ranking things has never been my strong suit anyways. If I were to give a pile of my favorite sites, I’d probably say the climb to the high cupola of St. Peter’s and its view, sitting on the sunny ledge looking out from the Aventine, and the open ruins of the Palatine left for me to climb and wander in. But my classic favorites include the Pantheon and the Colosseum, hanging out on the Spanish Steps, and loitering by the Trevi Fountain. I found new places I loved to be too, down by the markets outside Castel Sant’ Angelo, or in the winding streets of Trastevere.

Really, I could go on listing these activities and places forever. But sometimes it was the cultural feelings that won me out too. I was not alone in my confidence of navigation, slowly learning the bus routes and stop names. I consider myself better at the subway, but either way, was comfortable in knowing where to go in the underground tunnels. Even walking with a map helped my sense of direction, and by experiencing different people, restaurants, shops, and more, I was able to feel more rooted than the average vacationer.

When we were in the airport, boarding in ten minutes, I waited in line for a quick lunch. A family in front of me is turned away from the counter, told to pay first before ordering. They wonder how this is done, looking confused, and I chuckle a little. Gelato down the street, back by St. Johns, had been the same way. After being somewhere for two weeks, you begin to pick up on the little differences in the culture, and even though I had only been in the city two weeks and hold no true seniority, I couldn’t help the little smirk that was there.

Though we had been mentioning it over various dinners, it struck me most as we hugged long goodbyes out on the street before leaving on the bus for the airport – we had all really bonded. Yes, everyone had their close moments back in the spring, during our trials of the midterm and after school dinners, but over the course of two weeks, there was no one I felt uncomfortable with. Everyone’s company seemed shared and enjoyed, and I think I can take comfort in that everyone else felt the same. Group picture requests, dinner with various people, and solo explorations with other classmates can attest to this. The amount of private jokes, laughter, and quotes are all recorded in our minds and blogs. I smile to remember the little things like these that happened each day.

On the airplane, I would have given anything to make the flight go faster. After letting my laptop die and reading over 100 pages of my most recent novel, there were still four hours to go. But with some delight, I had taken out a magazine bought in the airport just before leaving. European magazines are my favorites, and I don’t find them often. With some pleasant surprise, upon reading an article about a designer for Lady Gaga and his lists of ten favorite things (foods, clothes, etc.), I read his second favorite place to be Piazza Campidoglio. With Jackie and Emily fast asleep on either side of me, I felt a smile break loose – remembering the many lunches there full of pizza and fresh mozzarella cheese.

It was almost unreal to come home. To be in JFK waiting in line at immigration, groaning to go home and be done. To see my parents felt almost odd as well – was it really over? While I ate Caesar salad and mac n’ cheese in the car en route home, two delicious things I hadn’t eaten in two weeks, I discussed several random bits of my tours and activities with my parents. They asked me if the trip had gone quickly. I said, although the events last week seemed ages ago, it certainly went fast while I was in it. When I left for Rome back in May, I didn’t think coming home would indeed come so fast.