i spent the first 18 years of my life in pretty much the same place, most of it in the same house. but being the child of immigrants, was raised with this idea of other places i might call home. i think this upbringing really impacted the way i’ve lived the second half of my life, often moving, creating communities everywhere i’ve gone.
tonight i was looking at a friend’s photos on facebook. (i snapped this with my phone off the computer screen) she and her partner just took a trip to europe and one of their stops was in florence, italy. of all her amazing pics, this kind of random street scene, with closed up shops (maybe it’s on the ponte vechhio? i’ll have to ask her…) really gave me a big shot of nostalgia.
as much as i want to go new places i want SO MUCH to go back to the places i’ve been. i want to keep recycling my experiences somehow. learning a new place and then leaving then returning. returning makes everything feel new AND familiar.
i don’t know– i’ve never been one to go somewhere having done research, practiced the language, or any of that. i love how the urgency to communicate necessitates learning, wondering around, having to ask for directions, strangers sharing their time and advice.
as much as i loved learning renaissance art history in florence, the things i remember most are…..
…the lady at the train station telling me to stop waiting in line so patiently. because obviously, you will never get to the front if you wait, you kind of have to push your way forward.
borrowing a stranger’s cell phone to book a spot at a hostel–as the train rolled to a stop in that city’s station—and jumping out of the train on a whim to visit a new city.
…and you know, the fountain story🙂
places, people, languages, food. i know these things are important to everyone but i want to know if they can fit centrally into my life.
i want the whole world to be my community.