Italia
It was an overwhelming experience heading away internationally for the first time on my own, regardless of knowing that I had people waiting for me when I arrived. I told Luke I would make friends on each plane trip so that I wouldn’t feel so alone, and I did. One lady called Hayfer who was from Peru and who told me all about her family life and another named Dorrianne who was from South Africa and sings on cruise ships, they both were so good to me.
Arriving and seeing my family made me realise how much time had passed and how much I missed them without knowing. My little cousin who was almost a toddler last time I saw him was now a young man, and my other two other cousins beautiful young women. I felt so proud that they were my family. My Zio and Zia look so much like my mum that it reaffirms that they really are my family. (I mean of course, but still it was a small strange moment that caught me by surprise.)
When I arrived we all got together for lunch and Nonna was asleep. When she woke she wanted to make herself pretty for me before she came out. (Mum always tells me how much she values dressing well and looking nice, even now at 89 years old.) Nonna comes out with the help of my cousins, she is walking slow and it reaffirms the amount of time it has been since I last saw her, it makes me even more glad to have came. The second she sees me she freezes and stops and just stares. Her mouth is open in shock and she doesn’t move. I smile and approach her slowly and as gently as I can. “Ciao Nonna.” I say smiling. “Non e possibile…” She repeats and her face becomes filled with tenderness. She holds me and kisses me and the entire time we sit after lunch she just keeps saying she can’t believe it and that it isn’t possible. This moment, in my first 30 minutes of arriving made the entire trip worth it.
I never expected that I would have similar reactions from all of the other family (and non family) members I met along the way on this trip. There’s this quality I have noticed among Italians which I can’t say I’ve ever seen before and it’s more than just openness. It’s so much emotional, undeniable love. Every single time I met someone new they made me feel like I belonged with them, and that I had known them for years. Practically everyone asked how long I was staying and offered me a place with them if I wanted to, everyone offered for me to come to dinner anytime, and to show me around. I felt so genuinely loved, by people I had only just met. My great Aunty kept holding my face and telling me how beautiful I was, she begged me to come back and spend time with her so that her and I can speak together in English, another held me and wouldn’t let me go; as she’d speak to others she’d hold my arms, and my hands and my waist. “You don’t belong here you are too beautiful, you belong to be sitting on top of the piano with all of the most beautiful ornaments.” She’d say in Italian. “Anche tu.” I said to her, telling her she is beautiful back, because she truly was. “Io? No.” she disagreed, and told me that she’s not beautiful, she is just full completely of love, for everyone - "thats what I am, and thats what I do and I am happy with that." - I decided she is who I wanted to be when I am older. Well, and now. Her husband was just as beautiful as she was. He didn’t speak much english at all but he looked at me like I was an angel. They both did and I admired both of them for how they could make me want to cry just by looking at me with such love. He made me promise to learn Italian so that when I come back he can tell me all of his stories and we can talk properly. When I was saying goodbye he told me to tell my parents he thinks of them every single day and that of all of the children he knows he doesn’t love any the way he loves me. I still feel like crying thinking about them. These are the sorts of people that I wish I could give the world to.
My favourite thing culturally about being in Italy was that every meal we ate together was at the table and everyone was welcome. Kids, adults, anyone. And everyone talks together. In Australia commonly at events the food is served 'buffet style' all on the kitchen counter and then people eat wherever they like - some outside, some in front of the TV, “people are all around at the same time, but they’re not actually together.” I say to my Zio observing the differences. “Yep, have you noticed you haven’t seen a single TV here.” he confirms, and he’s right. The entertainment comes from the conversation. One night after dinner Zio got his guitar out and everyone sang together. It was wonderful. I learned after speaking to mum about this, that it's common for people to sing together in Italy. I start to think about how I can bring this culture home and fantasize about big dinners with all my friends and mine and Luke’s families.
As I meet people I notice the same traits that my parents have and it really interests me. My Uncle stands in the same stance my dad does, and has the same smile. On the phone to my Zia she says “and another thing…” in the exact same tone as my mum. I notice traits I have that I share with the family too. As one of my aunties speak, my uncle watches her and mouths the words - it’s this weird thing that I subconsciously do which I thought was just a quirk with me, but he does it and noticing it brings me happiness.
I have really enjoyed building relationships with my family and regardless of truly not knowing them for long I feel a connection much deeper than with most people and there’s no doubt they’re family. When one of my cousins is going through personal challenges I feel her heartache as if it’s my own and want to care for her like she’s mine, once I see my other cousin cry and I feel my throat tighten and my eyes water - I love these two like they’re my babies. I got to the stage with one of my cousins where we can talk through just eye contact, and I can read her expressions without her saying a word, her the same with me. And my Zia, well...One day I hear my cousin yell “Mamma!” as she walks into her mums room, she looks at me and rolls her eyes. “e nuda.” she says, explaining that she’s nude and I just laugh. “What, can’t I walk around like this?” she says as she comes out of her room topless and we all laugh. Little silly moments like this, I love them all. “We’re a crazy family.” my zia says and it makes me love us more.
Luke and I spoke almost daily on the phone despite the time difference. He tells me I’m beautiful. “Thank you. I feel beautiful.” I say, and accept the compliment much more easily than when I am at home. “Here, everyone is different. They still have their own features…” I try to explain to Luke on the phone as I nervously laugh realising that nothing I am saying makes sense. “Back home most girls have had work done, and I feel that everyone is starting to look the same, everyone has the lashes and the lips and all of those things, and I feel different and therefore not up to their standard. Here, everyone still has their own face, everyones face is different and it makes me feel beautiful instead of odd.” I say and Luke laughs, understanding.
Another thing that I notice about being in Italy is how happy and proud I am of the life I have built at home. Luke and I have a really good, and healthy routine and life and I am very proud of us for that, I tell him this. I also notice that although I miss a lot of things there is nothing that I truly long for while I'm away and I know that means I’m happy. “With you i know ill never wish for anything else or envy anyone for what they have because you're the best of it all.” I write to Luke explaining my feelings about our life. Living a different life here has made me realise there’s not really anything I crave more than I already have at home, although I will miss my family very much.
Saying bye was a lot harder than I had initially expected. I am already awkward and incredibly uncomfortable with goodbyes, even day to day. I have no idea why but usually (most of the time) I come across as cold because it is such an uncomfortable experience for me that I just want it to be over as quick as possible because realistically they kill me and are so heavy for me. The day before I had to leave my cousin had already started crying, I went to see her for lunch and walked in to her laughing at herself with tears in her eyes. “What are you doing!” I say to her, and she just cries as we hug. The next day I try not to think about it and it only truly hits me once everything is packed. I say goodbye to Zio in the morning and find myself thinking of all the things I should have said that I didn’t because of the nerves of the goodbye, next is my cousin and Zio’s partner and they both hold me and I feel myself starting to want to cry. “I’m actually leaving.” I think in my head. “I love you.” my cousin tells me, and I tell her I love her back. They follow me out and wave as I walk across to Nonna’s, my stomach is in my throat. I say bye to Zia and like me she says “Okay, lets make this quick otherwise I’ll cry.” I appreciate it and thank her for everything. I walk to Nonna’s and ask my cousin to come with me. I had seen Nonna a couple of other times that morning and every time I left her sight she’d ask if I was leaving with fear in her eyes. “No, Nonna. Not yet.” I’d always say and visibly see her relax. I walk in and this time she knows, and instantly my cousin has to leave because she starts crying and so do I. “Ciao Nonna.” I half manage to say and her eyes well up with tears. She continues to tell me I’m beautiful and that she is so happy I came and that she’s sorry she couldn’t do more for me. I keep kissing her cheek because it’s all I’m capable of doing because my voice won’t come out. “ci vediamo ancora” i say as best as I can so she knows I’ll be back to see her. Finally I say a final “Ciao nonna.” and she closes her eyes tight as she tells me to just go while she isn’t looking because she can’t bare to see me leave. My hardest goodbye.
My Cousin takes me to the airport but first she has organised a coffee with her friends and her boyfriend so they can say goodbye. The entire time in Italy I tagged along with her and her friends and they were all so welcoming and not a single one made me feel like a burden for being there, instead they were all equally upset that I was leaving and that we didn’t have longer together. I love Italians. In the car on the way to coffee I knew I would struggle to see the faces of these people that regardless of only knowing for my short time there, all held a place in my heart. I couldn’t express my gratitude enough that they took time out of their day to come say goodbye. We had coffee and as I left they all kissed my cheek as the Italians do and some even gave me a cuddle which my Zio explained is the more intimate way to say goodbye for Italians. Their small loving gestures didn’t go unnoticed. I messaged them all once I had landed them to thank them and tell them what they mean to me, I miss even those people already.
“We can’t talk in the car.” My cousin says laughing because every time she speaks she cries. We arrive and once I check in we sit together for as long as possible before I have to go. When I do she holds me and I feel her sobbing. I hold it together as well as possible but still not very well at all. “I love you.” I tell her over and over, and she tells me the same back and then I walk away and we continue look back at each other until it’s not possible anymore. I never imagined it to be this hard.
The plane rides were nice, both trips I had no one next to me and I’m grateful for that because I got to sit a little more comfortably. I couldn’t wait to see mum and dad when I landed and got butterflies over the thought of seeing Luke for the first time in so long.
When I finally (FINALLY) see mum and dad, mum holds it together for about 0.1 seconds before she is crying and dad gives me a big hug. Dad’s off with my luggage being efficient as he always is and mum walks with me hand in hand continuously telling me how much she missed me. When we get home I show them videos from the trip and it’s a little emotional. Neither have seen their family for 20 years and seeing photos and videos is overwhelming for them. I start to imagine all of us living in Italy.
They leave my house and it’s around 9pm and Lukes working until 3am. I walk into my room to flowers, chocolates and a note from Luke. It’s hard to contain my excitement for seeing him and I can’t stop grinning. I text him to thank him and tell him that I can’t wait to see him. He already messaged me earlier saying he’ll wake me when he comes home because he’ll be too excited to see me to let me sleep. I’m half asleep and I’m woken up half by the garage door and half by the rush of butterflies I get knowing I'll see him finally. “Marshmallow.” I hear him whisper as he comes into our room. We kiss like it’s the first time and in that moment all of my pain is forgotten and it truly feels like I’m home.
