Romeing Around

Dear blogging god, please forgive me. It has been two months since my last confession.

So it’s been a while… let’s see what has happened? The first week of December, I left my apartment in Florence – packed up all my stuff and put it into storage – then spent a few days in Isernia (in the region of Molise) visiting friends before heading to the States for Christmas and New Years. Now I have moved back to Italy and am currently living in Rome. Woah life adjustment!

(I’m not always clear on the fact that I have an Italian boyfriend partly because he likes to keep his business private and partly because I don’t want to constantly write “my boyfriend” – blech! But a few months ago he [going forward we shall call him P-Man] was transferred to Rome for work and we thought it would be super duper if I moved to Rome as well. So when I talk about visiting friends in Isernia, I’m talking about his family. And eventually I will write a re-cap of his first trip to the US, where he spent Christmas and NYE with my family, and share what I consider funny stories and his thoughts on the trip. For his sake, we will deem that entry a cultural study rather than a tell-all.)

Life in Rome has been interesting thus far. I am currently living in an apartment in the suburb of Magliana and using it as a home base while I am starting work and looking for more suitable housing. The house itself it straight out of the “little house, big people” commercial from a few years ago. I am constantly hunched over and walking around crouched down like a duck. The good news is that for as many times as I have hit my head, I only have two bumps, which are conveniently located at the top of my head and not my forehead.

View from balcony towards Rome city center

The house is on top of a very large hill in Magliana and to get anywhere is a 10-minute walk to the train station, 6-minute ride into the city (southern city center), then a train, tram, bus, taxi or hoofing it to the final destination. Going from home to the station is not too bad since I go downhill, but coming back up the 100-some steps and then steeply inclining street isn’t my favorite thing to do. Especially because my part-time job right now requires that I have a large suitcase full of equipment with me that I take to and from home each time I head into the center.

It has been an adventure since the moment I stepped on the plane in Philadelphia heading to Rome. Forget order and organization. The plane was full of Italians and the ride was in classic Italian style – at least 10-15 people standing up walking around chatting the entire time, people sharing food and books back and forth over and under seats, someone dinging the flight attendant bell every two seconds and a general lack of peace and quiet. It was a thing of beauty. Arriving at the airport was pure chaos, as usual, and getting back in a car was like riding a roller coaster compared to driving in the States. I had a smile plastered to my face the entire ride. But the one experience that lets you know you’re not in Kansas anymore…using the public restroom in Italy for the first time again. Hello hole in the floor. Oh, how I have so not missed you!

For all of the chaos there are equal parts beauty and charm that provide me with a sense of balance and the readiness to dig my feet back in and be as crazy as the rest of them. Just a few hours ago when returning home from work for the day – after eight hours of being out in a car, train, metro and on foot for three hours with the suitcase full of stuff – I was staring the 100+ stairs in the face when I decided I would try to hitch a ride up. There was a small hospital van in the parking lot that was headed for the top of the hill. I quietly asked the elderly driver if I could have a ride up to the hospital because with the bag, I just couldn’t go any farther. He responded with only, “get in.” My bag and I sat shotgun while patients and visitors were driven up the hill and inside the 10’ high locked hospital gate. When parked, the driver gave me a sideways glance and told me to sit still and be quiet until he came back for me. Once we were in the clear, he threw open my door and grabbed my bag placing it on the ground. He then took my hand to help me down asking me what my name was. I responded, “I’m Sally, and thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it and promise it will be the only time!” He then pet my cheek with the back of his hand and said, “Ok beautiful Sally. I’ll be seeing you at the bottom of the hill then.”

Oh Italia…