Home sick home

Very rarely do I allow myself to feel homesick. It burns to think of what I miss: the people, food, places, mentality, cars, public bathrooms, customer service, roads, road signs...in essence everything. Here I have felt uneasy so many times and vulnerable not knowing how to act, speak, or know the social norms of the people. Fortunately I got thick skin living as a single girl in downtown Baltimore. I learned how to have a "mean mug" or aggressive face when I walked to work passing university students, drug dealers and occasionally criminals. There were 3 murders close to my home and sadly the victims were all good and innocent people who didn't know their killer. I was glad to get out of Baltimore City for the potential danger. Charm City was my home for 7 years and I learned to love it like a bad cat that grows on you. I do miss parts of it like Mount Vernon with the cobble stone streets and the best library I have met in my life, Paterson Park with the little town homes painted in different colors, Roland Park with discreet avenues tucking away the most gorgeous mansions built in the 1920's. I miss how all the trees turned pink in the spring, were bright green in summer, orange in fall and snowy in winter. For sure I will never live in Baltimore again, but there are so many other places I have lived in the US that also call my heart: the dry heat in San Antonio (TX), the mossy pines in Tacoma (WA), the warm low tide of the ocean in Neptune Beach (FL). More than anything I miss the people. Americans are the nicest people on the planet. Here, you can spot one a mile away and it doesn't matter if they are from Minnesota or LA which is a world of difference back home, but here they all look American, are bunched into one group but to me they are the nicest looking people in the world. What? Aren't Italians nice and loud like the movies? Nothing is like the movies. Here in the north people are reserved, think of foreigners with suspicion, and are slow to open themselves. The local idea is to keep immigrants away, it is expressed very openly with the local political party called Lega Nord. They might stock their factories full of immigrants working the undesired jobs but they sure don't want them strolling their streets.

Welcome sign: "Stop Immigrants" This makes me feel welcome. Where I come from we offer foreigners a glass a sweet tea and help them out.

 My learned thick skin wears down when people are rude to me for being different, point out that I don't know what is going on, and I end up feeling like a sore thumb. The anger it caused did force me to become fluent in Italian. I spent hours in the library with the dictionary on one side and my writing pad on the other just jotting down words and phrases for hours. I focused hard on getting to know the mentality like getting to know the personality of a person, that way the more I know what context they are thinking in the better I can respond with the vocabulary and grammar I learned to speak it in a way where I am no longer the underdog...Those bad feelings were stocked on my shelf looking sad so I turned them into something good by directing my vision on focusing on the history, the art, local nature and the positive here to out rule the harsh people of my region (Brescia). They are famous for being rough, even to other Italians not from this area. Enough feeling sorry for myself and homesick. It is just one bad slice of the mostly good pie though.

Here are my favorite 4 pictures from our honeymoon last year:

Best burger of my life.

Sigh....I will toss my money in you one day, sweet Crate & Barrel.

Free refills, cups with ice and a straw and *gasp* eating in your car when you drive!

Oh beautiful for spacious skies...