Back in the muggy swamp that is Washington, DC, it’s been six days since I was in Italy. The trip was incredible: it exceeded all my expectations.
I love traveling to other countries. Most of them have physical evidence of ancient history all over, in a way the United States does not. This was a huge treat in Italy. Roman and Greek ruins are casually everywhere – aqueducts besides train tracks and temples in the middle of bustling cities.
Still, the most meaningful part of our trip was the people.
Liz and I planned this trip as kids, promising each other we would travel to Italy together and see the village where our great-grandfather grew up. We had no expectations of finding family there. Not only would they be distant cousins, but what were the odds that any would still live there, and that we would be able to find them?
Our Airbnb host was undeterred. She took us to the town municipio where we saw our great-grandparents’ marriage record! We learned that we do indeed have family still living in town. So we visited them! They were generous, warm, and very Italian. They talked loudly over one another, urged us to “mangia,” and used dramatic hand gestures. They had photos of our great-grandparents, our great-great-grandparents, even letters my great-grandfather wrote to his sister in Italy. I teared up when I saw them. It made our family history so real.
We also saw the house where he grew up. It’s empty now. It sits precariously on the hill that makes up the historic town, surrounded by cobblestone and winding staircases. Walk a few streets over and there’s a beautiful view of the mountains and valleys of southern Italy.
We also made friends in another place we visited. After getting lost on our walk to the next town and ending up somewhere different, we landed, hungry and worn out, in a spagheterria for lunch. Two men entered the restaurant shortly after, and helped translate what the waiter was trying to offer us (frittelle, basically Italian hush puppies). They ended up offering to show us around town, which made our visit much more exciting and enjoyable. They were friendly and generous with their time. Thanks to their car, we were able to see parts of the town we would have otherwise missed. They introduced us to their friends and the local nightlife. They even took us to their beach house! Thanks to them, we felt right at home.
Italy is a spectacular place to visit – there is much to see and taste. Yet making the personal connections we did reminded me how important relationships are. They bring unique meaning to experiences, no matter how long (or short) the relationships last.
One of my professors once said,
“The beautiful thing about being somewhere for a while is how it gets into your skin. It makes it hard to leave, even if you know it’s not quite “home.” But it’s a part of you now and you will more than likely go back. And it’s also always good to come home, even if that makes you sad to leave at the same time.”
I feel energized and grateful and curious in new ways, and it is nice to be home. Yet every time I travel I feel like I leave a little part of myself behind. There’s some grief (in addition to gladness) that I’m home again. We’re already talking about going back. Fingers crossed for summer 2016!
(photos taken by Eva Jannotta)
