I’ve Grown Accustomed to Rome

I didn’t expect that with such little time that I would make such an attachment to a place. I can’t say I’m in love with Rome yet, but I feel at home here. Every morning I’m greeted by shop owners and restaurant servers. In Rome I genuinely feel cared for. Even as I sit here scribbling thoughts on a paper place setting with a pen I borrowed, I feel comfortable among strangers. Sitting here for over an hour at a Café that I always go to, or going back to the same sandwich shops, has built intimacy. I understand now that food is enriched by the experience I have. I still crave other cuisines when I’m abroad, but eating Italian food every day with people I’ve come to be familiar with is worth more.

Reflecting on my future departure, a melancholy feeling builds in me as I sit at the Café Biscione looking outwards. I watch tourists dragging their rolling suitcases over cobblestones and stepping into hotels. I take another sip of my Cappuccino Freddo, as another taxi driver puts bags into the trunks of white cars and I catch glimpses of faces from the window. I was among these overheated, confused, and dazed tourists as I made my way to the Campo De’ Fiori just two weeks ago. I had such a hard time getting to where I needed to be the first day. I was too exhausted to really enjoy anything that I saw. I didn’t have a way to contact anyone and my family was worried that I was stranded somewhere. But I made it. I have survived in Rome with the few phrases I know of Italian. The fears and concerns I had before this trip seem like trifling troubles now. Soon I will be leaving Rome; a city that I have grown accustomed to.

I’m going to miss Rome. Or at least, I’m going to miss the person I have become in this city. Back home in Seattle, I was always in a rush. It was both the impatience to be somewhere and the mindset that arriving was the only goal. However, slow service, waiting in lines for the tourist highlights, and getting to places a little later because I’m enjoying the view is a new norm that I’m okay with.

In Rome, it became easier and even natural to ask servers about their own lives, something I rarely felt brave enough to do in the US. In a diverse city like Seattle, I interact with different people all the time; but I forget they don’t have to be strangers that I should be apprehensive about. That instead, I have to remember we all have struggles or battles and we have to look out for one another to keep us all thriving.  That’s something Italy has taught me. Rome has imprints on my heart because it has a face; a tangible existence. I guess traveling showed me that a journey to a place is what we learn of the people and places along the way.