I've met a lot of new people lately. I can't even keep up with all of the names, if I am being honest. At some point or another, whether in Worcester or here I have ended up explaining what I'm doing there. Usually this story involves lots of shrugs and "I guess"es and "And then"s, and almost always ends with "So yeah. And here I am." It's not succinct, elegant, or well-put in any way.
A lot of the times people want to know why I am in Trieste, of all places in Italy. Another time I may write something in defense of Trieste. Usually though, I tell them I found a good family, or that I would be happy to be anywhere in Italy.
Sometimes the fact that I'm in Italy just hits me. It can hit me while I am sitting by the canal eating gelato. Or after I successfully struggle my way through ordering coffee. Or when it's 9pm and 90 degrees and whatevenisthatabout. Because really, how did I even get here?
As a wee little 4th grader, I was given a book called
The Thief Lord. I tried reading it, and couldn't get through it. A while later, still a wee little 4th grader or possibly a big 5th grader, I picked up the book again and read it. Then I forgot about it.
Sometime in early middle school I picked it up and read it again. Then again. Then again.
The book takes place in a magical city called Venus. I asked my mom if we could go to Venus, because I was in love and obsessed with this place. She probably said something like "Sure, as soon as we get a rocket."
Gosh, I thought to myself (my teenage years starting) moms don't know anything! "No, Mom" I told her, "the Venus in Italy." I mean, duh.
She told me it was replied vehn-iss.
I suppose they know some things, like how to pronounce cities like Venice or Worcester.
I was intent on moving to Venice, but I had heard it was an expensive city. However, I knew San Francisco was also expensive so I looked on the internet to see how the cities compared.
San Francisco was
more expensive than Venice, so it was settled and we could move there. In fact, we couldn't afford
not to move to Venice! No one told me about visas, or jobs, or even language barriers.
Spoiler alert, I was unable to convince my parents to move. Apparently asking your parents to move to a foreign country on your whim is asking a bit too much. They told me I could move there when I was older.
However, I was still obsessed with Italy. When it came time to choose a high school, I was mostly going through the catalog looking at morning start times. I had my eyes set on Downtown High School where you could start anytime you wanted, based on your childcare and job situation.
My mom told me I would not be going to Downtown High School. She pointed out Lowell instead. I thought it was a school for nerds, but liked the idea of creating my own schedule (though with more guidelines than Downtown). When my mom told me they offered Italian, I was sold and happily began the application process. When I got my acceptance letter I was over the moon. Soon, I would be learning Italian. Now I look back at little Eighth Grade Sara and laugh at her naiveté in being excited to go to Lowell. She had no idea what she was in for, I'm telling you.
Granted, I may have ended up at Lowell anyway, whether or not I wanted to. But maybe I would have put down Wallenberg or Lincoln as my first choice or looked at more charter schools, who even knows! But at least this way I was excited to put down Italian as my first choice for my language course, much to my father's dismay that I was flushing 9 years of Spanish down the drain.
Sometime in high school, my parents wanted to go to Ireland. Then my mom wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. Then I said if we were in France we may as well go to Italy. Then my brother piped up from underneath a book that he wanted to find Nessie, and my parents said we could do England instead.
I loved the whole trip with my parents, but I was most excited for Venice. Sometimes when you have such high expectations for something there is no way it can meet them. This was not the case with Venice and I could have spent weeks there. I even tried pesto for the first time here and liked it!
Somehow when choosing a college (finally) I forgot to check mine had a study abroad program in Italy. So while enjoying my time in Scotland I told myself I was much too close to Italy and may as well go, even if it meant eating rice and beans for months so that I could go. Although I didn't really have to eat rice and beans, it turns out, this was how much I wanted to go.
When thinking about what I wanted to do after graduating college, and eventually deciding I would like to au pair somewhere, Italy was of course where I wanted to go. Unfortunately due to visa regulations (although they are notoriously lax about enforcement), I wouldn't have been able to go for more than my tourist visa allowed. Instead, I went to Germany-an experience I loved and would repeat in a heartbeat.
When I got back to Worcester, I was a little bit less than thrilled about being back in the city. To keep myself going, I kept thinking about what I should do next. Move to another city? Au pair again? Stay in Worcester and save money while having dirt-cheap rent? Sit on a beach and watch Netflix and cry? (if anyone knows of a beach with free wifi where I can do this, please let me know! It's the one thing that's missing in this plan, but I am otherwise more than read to do this.)
I wanted another adventure rather than staying in Worcester, although this would have been the easiest of the plans. I missed my German family, and I missed being an au pair. I also went to bed thinking about, and woke up thinking about, Italy.
I decided I had put off going to/temporarily living in Italy long enough (we're talking ten years here). So I logged back into au-pair world and started searching for a family again, this time just for the summer.
And when it came down to deciding between families, although there were many factors, it would be a lie to say that proximity to Venice was not something I thought about.
So of course when I took my first trip to Venice this weekend (more on that later), I was so excited. And I definitely nerded out and bought a copy of this book, in Italian, in Venice. Then I read the first few chapters in a piazza. Like I said, I was nerding out pretty hard.
But now I am sitting here, thinking about how much I have done due to my love for Italy and Venice, which is due to this book. And it's a little bit crazy. I mean, I picked a high school. I picked courses. I quit my jobs and jumped on a plane to Italy (Could I have put that more dramatically? Probably not. But I will try harder next time.)
What if I hadn't even read that book, or my mom's friend hadn't given it to me? What language would I have taken in high school?? More Spanish? French (Yikes!)? German? Would I have preferred a different high school altogether (which at some point would have influenced my college application process so let's not even go down that road)? Would I still be in Worcester, melting through another New England summer with my hair doing some kind of Hermione Granger style? What would I have eaten in Scotland besides rice and beans since I was not concerned with going to Italy? (more empire biscuits, probably). Most importantly, would I have ever tried and liked pesto? Probably not. So then what pizza would my boyfriend and I even get at
Volturno? Would I even go to Volturno? Because pistachio pesto pizza is kind of the point if we are being honest.
So basically, I read a book once. And ten years later here I am in Trieste, sitting in my room plotting how to scare the pasta out of the boys next time they ding-dong-ditch my door.
