The Long Road

Well, I am finally in Italy. After all the talk, the shopping, and the packing I am finally here. The flight over was hard, and I am stilled tired although I have not yet experienced the horrid jetlag I had last time I was here. The weather has forcasted rain and cold for the whole week, so there is not much to look forward to here. There are no people camping right now, and mostly it is Alice, Alfonso, Elia, and I. But, perhaps it is best to start from the beginning...
The flight over, from Frankfurt to Dallas, was hard indeed. My hopes were quickly deflated once I realized that the plane was packed, I mean packed, up to the very last seat. There were no personal monitors for the lowly people in coach, and so I spent most of the flight watching a small TV hanging from the ceiling of the airplane in the first row. I was fortunate though. The person sitting beside me happened to be about my age, and we struck up a kind of friendship. Her name was Sonja. She's German, and was flying home to see her family, and stay for about three weeks. She is married to an American, currently stationed in Iraq, lives in Kileen, and works for a German Biotech company in the USA. We talked about this and that before the plane took off; just whatever popped into our heads. I was surprised to learn that she had two cats, which she was taking with her to Germany because she could not find anyone to watch them, and one was male and the other female. I told her that I too had two cats, one male and one female, and so we started talking about how the male was always getting himself into trouble, and how the female would always lay back and watch him make mistakes and get in trouble. She was a good person to sit next to.
I am a nervous solo flyer, and that combined with the fact that the plane was full to the brim, means that I did not get any sleep. Well, I did actually have one hard hour of sleep. I slept so hard in fact that Sonja had to tell me, once I woke up, that a man standing a seat infront of us, waiting for a bathroom, passed out, and people were rushing up to help him, and that the pilot had even come over the intercom to ask if there was a doctor on board. And, of course, that I slept through the second round of hot towels. In the end, she said that the main had been fine. They had to take him to first class to treat him (That is when you know you are on a cramped airplane, when you cannot even treat someone fallen in the isle, and have to move them up to first where there is more room to breathe), and when he woke up he said that he was just light headed and that it happened to him a lot. Well, I think being taken to first class from economy on an airplane would wake even the dead.
The food on the plane was okay. Dinner was a meal of turkey with something that looked like it might have been stuffing at one time, cold orzo salad, and a brownie. Breakfast however, was another story. Once they started heating it up, I felt sick. Even Sonja said that the smell was bothering her, and when they brought it out, it was even worse. At first I thought they had served us some kind of breakfast calzone, but when it touched it, it was soft like wet bread. Sonja said she thought it was eggs, underneath that concoction was something that might have been hash browns, but smelled wrong, and finally under all that was wet spinach. On the side we were given some fresh fruit, and a dinner roll (which Sonja said is the breakfast bread of choice in Germany).
Mostly the flight just lingered on and on. I would always look at my watch and think, ok it must have been at least 45 minutes. Nope, it had only been 10 minutes. It was frustrating to say the least. Once we were landing in Germany the plane hit bumpy air and thrashed around so bad that both Sonja and I grabbed one another's hands until it ended.
Getting off the plane was also a fun experience. There was this weird guy pushing me, I mean literally pushing me, off the plane. At first I thought he was just being rude, then I thought he was trying to steal my camera, and then I wondered if he was not trying to make a quick connection. Once we were in the airport, he started running, so I assume he either had to go to the bathroom badly, or he was making a connection. Sonja and I didn't exchange information, and we parted with a smile and a wave. Sometimes in life we meet people who become friends when you need them most, and when you no longer do, you part ways, greatful for the company that, in some small way, shortened the miles.
Frankfurt was a completely different story. I realized, almost immediately how lost I felt. Although some signes were in English, everything still seemed so foreign, so alien. I got lost looking for my connection gate, looked around to ask someone where I should be headed and found everyone to be speaking in German, so some other language I didn't recognize. I just stood there, in the middle of the terminal looking around, puzzled and a little scared, when a man approached me. 'Are you lost? Are you from Texas?' he asked me. 'Yes' I said. 'I am too, I lived in Garland for a while, but now I live in Canada because I was transfered by my company a few years ago.' 'Oh, thank goodness' I said. 'Well, you were standing there and first I noticed your boots, then your passport, so I figured you must be from Texas. So, what gate are you looking for' he asked. I showed him my ticket. He pointed me in the right direction, and we parted ways.
Before I could reach my gate though, I was stopped by immigration, which happened to consist of a very angry young German man who questioned me like I was some criminal. Hesitantly, he stamped my passport and let me through. After going through security, again, I found the gate listed on my ticket. After sitting for a while, wondering where my plane was, and why the flight was not listed on the monitor, a voice came on, in German, and garbled something. Next there was some broken English and I gathered that my gate was no longer A21, but A1. Let me tell you, this was a large airport, and I was almost sweating by the time I arrived. Once I arrived, my flight was still not on the screen, so I went to the counter to ask if I was in the right place, and the lady working did not look up but asked if I was going to Helsinki, I said no but.... 'well, she cut in would you mind waiting we have a bit of a crisis here' and she kept typing. I sat down and waited. I did not hear that the gate had changed again, so I just stayed where a was. Pretty soon after that flight took off, the lady at the desk grabbed her purse and high-tailed it out of there. I started listening, and I did hear people speaking in Italian, so I thought I was probably in the right place.
I was, as it turns out, and the flight was not that bad. Hardly anyone was on the plane, and the flight attendants were very nice. I would have slept, but I was so frazzled from the airport, I just worked in the sudoku book I bought in Dallas before the first plane took off. Thanks Mom, by the way, for telling me to get one, because I think it kept me half sane during the journey. Actually, my mind was going pretty crazy the whole day. Once I was about three hours into the flight I thought "Oh, God." "A whole year, that seems like forever, and what am I going to do, I do not think I will stay for Christmas, maybe I will come home early". I think I just do not make good decisions while cramped like a sardine on a nine hour flight.
I arrived in Rome, and was greeted by Angelo, the man I had hired to help me with my bags. He was very nice and we spoke some Italian while he drove me to the train station, bought me a bottle of water, helped me buy a ticket, and not only brought my bags onto the train, but put them up above my head, on the luggage racks in the compartment I was in. I paid him, and he said that whenever I came back to Rome to call him and that we would eat some good for and that he had a seperate apartment for guests where I could stay if I wanted.
The train compartment, and the train ride itself was just horrible. I was in and isle, and to my right was a man from Africa who would not stop talking to me, some Italian woman, and on the opposite side was an Italian man who looked somewhat sketchy, a very freaky looking boy/man from the middle east whoes teeth were half rotted, and scragldy; well, lets just say he looked homeless, but had a cell phone and was constantly calling someone, and then there was an african girl taking some notes on the bible. I would have set my cell phone and just have gone to sleep, but I was too scared that one of those men, or all would take my passport or my camera, which was up above me, or something. I was so tired that the rocking of the train kept putting me to sleep. So, my head would lull down to my chest, then I would realize I was falling asleep, and would pop back up. It was like this for the whole train ride. Finally, I was off the train, and by a stroke of luck, a nice Italian picked up the bag I had left behind me, I had already gotten down my large bag, and handed it to me. I was so thankful for that. Alice was waiting further up the platform, and she had to go and get Alfonso to help carry the bags up the stairs.
We loaded the bags into the tiny car, and went to pick up Elia from his grandparents, who are very sweet, typical, old italians. The mother offered me some coffee, and not wanting to be rude, I accepted. We only stayed for a few minutes, and the we packed up Elia and drove to their house. Once unloaded, bags up stairs, Alice said I should shower and get ready for dinner. I took a quick one, and was out in a flash. What I really wanted to do next was put on my PJs, but apparently this is not how it is done in Italy. They all stay in their normal clothes until it is time to actually get into bed. So, I put on a pair of jeans and a white shirt. Next, I went to the dryer Alice had given me, but it did not fit in my outlet, so I just ended up going to sleep with wet hair because I had forgotten to ask her about it at dinner, and once I was up stairs, well I could tell she was winding down.
Dinner consisted of risotto with red cabbage, a wintertime dish Alice told me, along with some bruschette following the meal. Once done, I offered to help Alice clean the dishes, but she told me not to worry with it tonight and I went up stairs to my room and unpacked my suitcases. It did not seem real to me until that moment. Once all of my clothes were in their place, and I was ready for bed I realized that I was here for the long haul. I laid down on the small twin bed, which was warm, but as hard as a rock, and has a fitted sheet that feels more like burlap than cotton. I fell asleep almost immediately, Alice and Alfonso were still up downstairs. I have no idea when they went to sleep, but I am guessing it was late because she did her and Alfonso's laundry (the clothes they had worn to pick me up) that night.
I dream that Mom was with me, and we had this long conversation about what was going on in the house, and how I was feeling. We stayed in my room and talked for a long time. It felt so real that when I woke up I actually thought I had talked with her last night. The morning was a little crazy. I woke up at nine, still tired (I ended up going to be at 1030 the night before), to hear Elia called my name. Well, the name he calls me, which is Meme after the first girl who stayed here, Megan. Now Alice is trying to get him to say Meme Essi, which he does every now and then, but mostly just shortens it to Meme. So, I got dressed quickly, and went downstairs. Alice told me that it was raining, still is, and that she thought we might go to the supermarket for food if I was up for it. Also she had layed out breakfast for me, but I did not know that she and Elia had already eatten so I was waiting for them. Well, needless to say I did not get breakfast because Alice had not noticed that I did not eat, and I didn't know to say anything. So, we were out the door.
The supermaket, was what I imagine a slightly smaller whole foods it. It had underground parking, and they did not just sell food, but bedding, and books, etc. It was amazingly crowded, and it seemed just normal to push people out of the way with your cart, no one got mad at you they just let you push them. Okay, that is enough for now. My fingers are sore but, I will post part 2 either tonight or tomorrow morning.