Anyway, I was home for about four weeks but now I’m back. Of course the whole idea of home has become a little tricky of late. I mean, I live in Rome and this more and more feels like home; I have friends and routines and haunts, but in the long run, it’s not really home. I’m undoubtedly an American (all the Italians seem to know it) and I know I’ll be heading back to the States before too long (August, it appears) so this is clearly too temporary to be called Home but things aren’t that much clearer over there. All my stuff is in storage in one spot or another, my new driver’s license has me in Maryland, but all my mail goes to Ohio. I am clearly confused or, at best, all over the place.
But here’s a curious thing, at least curious to me. When I was home and talking to people about Rome or just thinking about it for that matter, it seemed so very far away. Now, I’m fully aware of the number of miles (4,462 according to US Air) and the ocean in between but it seemed even farther away than that. Some sort of Brigadoon or alternate reality sort of thing. Some other life holding very little in common with the life I’d been living in the states. The only point of commonality being and, truth be told, I suspect I’m a slightly different person on this side of the Atlantic than on that. Nothing major but little things are different. I’m much more apt to strike up conversations with total strangers over here, for instance. Still can’t whistle though.
Anyway, I’m back in Rome. Took a few long walks around town and everything is pretty much as I left it. (As Tim Cockey pointed out, I left it in ruins.) A noticed a couple of things about Rome while I was in the states. First of all, Rome proper is a small city. I’ve mentioned this before but it was really brought home when I tried to negotiate Baltimore without a car. In Rome, I walk everywhere and it’s no big deal. My first day back in Baltimore, I decided to walk to my doctor’s appointment. It took, well, forever.
Another thing, while Rome’s hectic and crowded, there’s something very light about it. Walking around NYC, I was struck by the fact that it just felt heavier than Rome’s hubbub. Now in all fairness, NYC was still dealing with leaden snow dumps and some major league slush which would dampen anyone’s mood but on average the action is a little more oppressive. (I say this even though my apartment here was burgled in my absence. Nothing of mine was taken, but it does mean that I’ve been the victim of property crime three times in less than ten months. My first hand experience with crime in Baltimore was having an 8-track stolen out of my car which, come to think of it, may have been a favor. Rome, somehow, still feels infinitely safer A friend of mine refers to Rome as “her toy” and I know what she means. The cars are tiny and the motorinos operate at about the same pitch as an electric razor. Besides people are kissing on every other street corner. That tends to lighten the mood.
So I’m back (I keep saying that) and glad to be here. An old friend of mine (and by old I mean enduring as opposed to aged) asked me what I was going back for or to, and I had to think about it. Of course, Rome is a stunning city and I haven’t been here anywhere near long enough to start taking it for granted. There’s also an obvious freedom in this move. The whole notion of me setting most everything aside and going elsewhere for a bit is as surprising to me as it is to anyone else, and there’s something to be said for the pleasant discovery that your world isn’t quite the place you think it was.
It actually reminds me of my college years, and not just in terms of my humble standard of living. We had this thing called a January term, sometimes referred to as a mini-mester, that would be devoted to a single course, often something totally unrelated to one’s usual course of study. The college would offer a number of courses but more often people would design their own and these self designed courses ran the gamut from rigorous scientific research to “Explorations of Hitchhiking as an Alternate Mode of Transportation” or “A study of Leisure in Key West.” As you can imagine, some of these were nothing more than an excuse to blow off and vacate but some were ultimately valuable, sometimes in surprising ways.
The other thing about those January terms was that you only had to do two of them during your four years (This was back when college was a four year proposition.), and most people chose to do them off campus so the student population shrunk by about 75%. As a result, the usual patterns were tossed to the wind and everything seemed, if not new, at least different. New friendships were formed, routines were adjusted and dismantled. The usual bets were off. I used to love it.
So I guess I came back for my mini-mester, a brief detour with some intensive study into history, architecture, and art, before returning to my usual course of study. I know a fair number of people over here who came for a summer a number of years ago and are still here, and most chuckle knowingly when I say I’m only here ‘til August but I don’t see myself staying indefinitely. Setting aside all the realities of visas and licenses, I don’t think I would want to. I’m fully aware that, in some ways, I’m lucky to be unencumbered enough to be able to pop myself out of one life and into another, but I also know that there’s a lot to be said for many of life’s encumbrances.
But enough of that for now. Did I mention I’m back in Rome?
