Hello my readers,
I am going to revert from speaking Italian because just hearing that language right now breaks my heart </3 .
I am currently typing this entry in the air port and all I can say is I Hate America!! I have never felt such a part of a culture: a culture that actually takes pride in their art and their food; a culture who adopts you as one of their own; a culture where you can walk outside on the beautifully paved streets glance amongst the gorgeous church works and feel like you are living a part of a sacred history.
I know this is kind of ironic being how I wrote in the beginning how much I felt like I did not belong in Florence but now I know more than ever that it is my home. If I could marry an Italian and stay in the country forever I would. I am a Florentine tried and true and I don't belong in America anymore, from my dress and new hair style which is so foreign to my for fun reading materials which hold basis in art and Florentine culture, to the very fact that I wanted to scream blasphemy at the sbarro's in the airport for their claim to have whoestyle "Italian' cooking.
I feel like Florence is my home, The Florentines are so cultured and take so much pride in their culture. What I wouldn't give to stand at a coffee bar right now and have an espresso. Well at the airport you can go and get a cup o joe at dunkin donuts served to you in a paper cup, how classy! Then you can go and order a medium drink at any drink place in America and being the definition of fat central they will serve you their version of an Italian multi-grande! Italians have so much pride for others yes they push and shove to get a around but they do it with class as opposed to city slickers who are just flat out pushing and shoving. Italians are also patient they take their time and reason with others for example, I checked my bag in Rome to New Jersey and the Italian airline worker was so patient and sent the bag through even though it was a tad overweight, I get to America and the airline worker has the nerve to argue over 5 pounds say "I'm just doing my job hunny" and send me off with a 50 dollar surgcharge. I think the Newark airport is just the definition of America and what a disgusting and capitalist society it is.
When I go home to my home town I will be living my life in bohemian style again avoiding fast food and most likely going vegan because I don't think I can tolerate American cheese anymore let alone there sad excuse for gelato they call ice-cream. I am anticipating sinking into a depression and just reminiscing and writing about Florence and trying to hold onto it so it doesn't fade away into a sweet memory. I suppose there is a silver lining to it all, I am coming back in the spring and I will be attending new art courses in contemporary Italian society, curatorial studies, art preservation, Italian cooking and my favorite and a surprise for all of you my fellow readers working as a docent in Santa Maria Novella J
As mentioned previously, I have wanted to be a docent since the beginning of this summer at my local excuse for an art museum, now I am interning as a tour guide in one of the most sacred churches in the world! My apartment next semester will also be lavishly flourished with a king size bed and situated right next to the Mercato Centrale and right down the street from Santa Maria Novella. So I suppose I couldn't be a more fortunate person. I just feel like I gave so much of my heart to a city and I cannot take it back with me. I also feel very protective of that city and it really breaks my heart when other people insult it and abuse their privilege of being in such a beautiful place. To those Nay Sayers who have the nerve to insult Florence this is all I am going to say: Your experience is what you make it: I am going to go back on my pretentious shyness and make an allusion to one of my favorite artist's Botticelli: Imagine yourself riding a scallop pushed by the wind to a destination, you have the choice of what direction you will lead. Flora bestows her mantle on you, warming you with her Florentine pride. You have the choice to where you want to go and what you want to do and how this experience will affect you as a human being. Let the compass rose be your guide and ride the wind.
I feel like the Venus who has been blown back from Florence to Cyprus against her own will and wants to go back to Florence once more. I am in a transition again riding the wind. The compass rose to my heart leads to Florence but for now I am back on the island of Cyprus waiting for the winds of fate to blow me back to the country that I love.