Okay, I'm tired of explaining the whole saga to everyone. It seems easier just to post what happened as briefly as possible and move on. This has been edited because I'm so over all of this that I don't want any more drama from that quarter. So this is the last word on the testament.
I hated Italy.
Now you ask, How could anyone hate italy?
Let me break it down.
I signed up to be in the dorm. I did not want to be with Americans, and I wanted internet. I ended up in an apartment with two Americans. No internet. I was terrified that I wouldn't have anything in common with or like the people. Bingo, ended up disliking most of them. I would normally feel bad about saying that publicly, but trust me, they did not like me either. They really did not like me. And its not that they were of the bad sort. Well some of them were annoying as hell. I can't go by a trader joes anymore without wanting to scream. Yeah, that experience is ruined when you hear a 45 minute monologue about oh my god, how great trader joes is. It's like so wonderful! The cupcakes are delicious! Have you ever had the sushi? Oh my god! So good. (yeah, that for 45 minutes)
I just am at point in my life when I want to talk about more than what they wanted to talk about. They loved each other so much that I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that they talked about something more than what I heard. Surely. Surely there was more to their conversations that what I heard. I am willing to think that there was more to them than what I saw. I just couldn't be around them. Which was obvious to them so I annoyed the living hell out of them too. And trust me, they did everything except put out a notice in the New York times telling as many people as possible about it.
But they didn't see the real me. They saw the Crystal that shut down when she saw how it was going to go. When I saw that I didn't get internet and the people I was sharing an apartment with, I shut down. I got depressed, more depressed than i ever been in my life. I was completely isolated in a foreign country without internet, dryers, dishwashers, television, radio, books, AIR CONDITIONING, and intellectual conversation. With some of the most annoying people in creation. Not only were they annoying, but they constantly talked about me behind my back. Not all of them were this way, just some of them and it brought the general discourse down. Besides being generally depressing, I hadn't done anything to these people. And they said the most vicious things about me. Not only me, but the people that were wonderful to them. Like the guy who fed them all the time and had them over at his house or this sweet guy that helped me with my computer. Much less these two girls that hung out together.
Maybe its just the way I was raised, but if you know someone is suffering and depressed you help them. You invite them out. But they shut me out. My roommates never invited me to anything and treated me like crap with such a double standard. And the things they said about me (and let me tell you the walls in that apartment were so thin) were absolutely vile. And they said not one word to me about anything. It was the most two-faced, insane thing I've ever seen in my life.
I was a witness the most idiotic political commentary on Earth. Meeting some of these people, I see now how people could fear for the future of the world.
Don't get me wrong, I was no picnic. I'm pretty sure I did not do a good job of hiding my revulsion and general depression. I was so depressed that I think I started having physical symptoms. For four days, I had the worst headache of my life. I don't know if it was a virus, or just from crying all weekend. In some ways, I don't blame them for not talking to me or ignoring me. Its hard being around someone who can barely stand you. Not to mention is depressed and rapidly approaching bitter. When someone has those qualities, the only word for it is bitch. I was a major major bitch at times. But I maintain I had cause. I just have trouble separating their behavior with my impressions of most of them and my resentment for the whole situation. I don't thing they realized that they hadn't invited me to anything and that I had been shut out. Part of it was because I come from a culture where you wait for an invitation and you never ever invite yourself. Maybe they expected for me to say outloud I wanted to go with them, but thats verboten where I come from.
And there were several people who I could have liked, but never got the chance. I probably should feel like I missed something great because they were all so in love with each other, but I kind of felt like I had made the greatest escape of my life. I was so determined to get home I ran across the German airport barefoot. I was not going to miss my connection dammit!!!
Plus, lets face the fact that I've had the experience that they had. I've had that great experience of meeting people who are completely simpatico with you, who you just fall in love with. And that was part of it. I've had such great experiences that I had much too high expectations. Suffice to say, I didn't cope well with my disappointment.
I also need to mention I took the worse class in the history of the world there. So so so awful.
However, I have to say that there were some bright spots. Chiefly, the Mediterranean. I loved it so much I painted one wall in my room the color closest to it. And there was one night that I loved where I let my hair down and got to dance. They were quite fun that night. And there was the night with the crazy norwegians. And that night I sat out on my balcony and watched the rain hit the Med. Or Capri, the most beautiful place on Earth. And Gelato! I have a new passion, Gelato! Or lemon Vodka. Pasta Carbonara. When I close my eyes at night, there are new images that set me at peace---italian sunsets, beautiful shoes, and Capri.
But the best part? Italy set me free. I realize now that I have lived so much of the last 4 years in fear. But the worst thing possible? All the things that held me back that terrified me? They've already happened. I've been isolated, alone, unpopular, stabbed in the back, heartbroken, unable to communicate. I've been miserable. I've been humiliated, bashed in public, judged. I've gotten in a rowboat and couldn't swim. I've had awkward conversations with strangers. I've had to stop and show my ignorance. I've had to live on my own without a net. Without technology, I had to rely on my brain to get me through. I was lost so much in Italy that I practically had to send up smoke signals. I've walked alone in a strange country at 5 am. I've taken the wrong train and had to hang out in one of the worst places in Earth. I've had to deal with people I couldn't stand and make it work. I was about as alone as I could be. I was more depressed than I've ever been.
And I made it. I don't fear storms anymore. I learned to sail a ship to sail me through them. I realize now that I was afraid to live the life that I wanted because of all these things, things that happened to me in Italy. All the things I feared the most happened and I made it. I've never been scared of death, just taking the risk to live the life I want. A life of passion, travel, and chaos. A messy life of grandeur. A life that is unconventional and even at times miserable.
I guess it all comes down to what Elizabeth Gilbert said in EPL. "Virginia Woolf wrote, 'Across the broad continent of a woman's life falls the shadow of a sword.' On one side of that sword, she said, there lies convention and tradition and order, where 'all is correct.' But on the other side of that sword, if you're crazy enough to cross it and choose a life that does not follow convention, 'all is confusion. Nothing follows a regular course.' Her argument was that the crossing of the shadow of that sword may bring a far more interesting existence to a woman, but you can bet it will also be more perilous."
So would I go through the misery again, the bone aching loneliness, the utter agony? I don't know. Had I chosen another program, I might have had a better time, a wonderful international experience. I might have gotten to have great conversations with some europeans, the reason for the whole exercise. And had you asked me last week, I would have said God Yes. Anything would have been better. But now, I don't know. I think going something that absolutely awful made me a better person, more capable of handling the life that I can see coming towards me. Will I be better for it? I have no idea.
Plus, I've never been a bigger republican or more in love with my country. I love America so much right now, you have no idea. Thats something.
In closing, let me say the past is past and I can only live from this day on. So those who read this will now understand why I hate talking about those 5 weeks of my life and why I want to hurl every time I hear the words pizza or trader joes.
Something I learned the hard way:
“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.” -Charles Swindoll
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”
“To become a spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life.” ~Oscar Wilde
