Melissa’s Journals

Despite the challenge, I was really satisfied with my new host family. I’ve spent a lot of time with them these past few weeks, making memories out of the ordinary days. I initially thought not having any host siblings would make family dynamics harder to adjust to, but in a way, it actually helps me feel more connected to my host parents. Even if it’s just a car ride home or a dinner together, I enjoy sharing these moments of my day with them.

I’ve felt integrated into the family since the first day I came. They let me help in the kitchen, so I’ve learned how to cook dishes like carbonara and pizzoccheri alla valtellinese. The most enjoyable part about preparing them is going to the grocery store to buy the ingredients. As I pass by the aisles, I notice the products that are not typically found in American supermarkets, especially the different kinds of pasta. It’s also a joy to go grocery shopping with my host parents because they let me pick out fruits and snacks for the house, letting me feel like a little kid again.

We have also gone on several road trips, which are always pleasant since I get to sit back and enjoy the view. This month, I visited Pavia, Piacenza, and a couple of medieval towns nearby. What I love about Italy is that there’s always another sight to explore. Even within the same region, you can find an infinite number of touristic villages. I’m not talking about iconic cities like Milan, but the smaller towns you find hidden nearby. Each one has its own history and architecture, making each visit feel like a fairy tale.

Despite all the places I’ve been to, I’ve realized it’s the simple moments that make this year memorable, whether it’s a movie night at home or having lunch with the nonna every Sunday. Especially now, I realize the beauty in trusting where the changes in life take you. Before switching host families, I was worried about leaving the city, because I had gotten used to walking everywhere and moving on my own. Though I’ve lost that comfort, I’ve gained the opportunity to move around in a different way, both physically and metaphorically. I’ve started to take the train, where I’ve met other students from different schools. At the same time, I’ve learned to enjoy the unpredictability of life, the new faces, and the changing landscapes.

At the beginning of the month, school got me overloaded with assignments and artworks to finish. Here, the first semester ends in January since we start school a month later, so it’s a period full of exams and interrogazioni. It’s also the coldest month of the year. Especially in the north, close to the Alps, the winters are cold and humid. In Georgia, I was used to a more variable weather. In the mornings, it might be freezing, but it’s pleasant in the afternoon. Here, it’s cold all winter long. Some weeks are foggier and some weeks, the sun decides to come out once more, but the temperature does not raise much. When it rains, it rains for days, and the streets are slippery from the ice that forms. Nonetheless, despite the gloomy weather, I’ve learned to appreciate whatever the day brings, whether it’s fog or sunshine. Even when the sky is dark and gray, the view of the city is just as beautiful. Because I moved right outside the city, I go to school by car. Surprisingly, it’s one of my favorite parts of the day. I pass by the bridge that crosses the Po River and watch hues of pink and purple begin to light up the sky. In the meantime, the radio plays upbeat Italian music, setting the tone for the day. Suddenly I realize there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

January was not a very eventful month, but it was simply special. It brought smiles, curiosity, but also nostalgia and uncertainty. It made me realize there’s always a tiny piece of a past chapter in our lives we carry on to the next. When I think of Italy, I’ll think of the U.S., and when I think of the U.S., I’ll think of Mexico. That’s when I’ll ask myself, “Where is truly home?”