Giorno D’oro
There is nothing quite like walking past the Duomo and realizing I made it. My dreams of living in another country finally happened. The Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore is a famous landmark in Italy and it stands tall almost like a castle of green, pink, and white marble. However, for me, it’s not just a pretty building, the Duomo marks the place I now call home. Home isn’t where I was born or raised, it is a place that challenges and teaches me lessons, but also makes me feel loved and confident. Florence helped me grow and will stay with me forever, she is my home.
Most mornings in Florence did not begin peacefully, instead they began in a rush. Rain poured down as I ran to catch the bus. My hands were full with my lumpy bag of class materials and I couldn’t carry an umbrella if I tried, not that it would help much anyway. I was always anxious on the bus: it was never on time, always crowded, and every morning felt like a scene from Final Destination with the reckless bus drivers. I could smell the soggy people. All of us were just waiting for our stop. Me? I was going to Manifattura Tabacchi, one of Polimoda’s Campuses. My anxiety was overruled by my excitement as I had my favorite class, Materials and Construction. The class was taught by my favorite professor, Kali Swaid: the ultimate spitfire. This class I was using a rough, medium-weight muslin. I was surrounded by the sounds of Fashion Design: industrial sewing machines banging throughout the room, students marking their fabric with dull pencils, then they would slice the fabric with the most precise scissors one could ever find. No one was talking; most had headphones in, completely focused on their work. I attempted to do the same, feeling the canvassy texture between my fingers as I guided it through the machine. The machines were much faster than I was used to and the black thread kept on getting stuck. Often I’d become frustrated as I struggled to weave the loose thread through the needle’s tiny–almost nonexistent–eye. I got almost to the point of having to step out, but this day my professor reminded me to calmly and kindly ask the machine to work before threading the needle again. I tried and much to my amusement, everything turned out neat. Thanks for the manifestation tip, Kali!
Next up is Intro to Italian. This class dragged on for hours but the change of scenery is nice. Instead of being at Manifattura, this class is at our other campus site: villa favard. This place is beautiful, renaissance paintings decorate the ceilings. The architecture is just as lovely but nothing beats the excitement I feel when I see the gilding covering every single room. Class–thankfully–ended early. I felt great pride as I left the prestigious school. I planned to go to a library later to do the Italian homework I was assigned. I trade the gorgeous golden room to be greeted by the golden light of the sun setting. The rain ended and not a single cloud remained in the sky. I decided to walk home to take in all the beauty that surrounds me. My once droopy eyes were quickly cured by a spontaneous stop in a gelateria across the street. Now, headphones in, a chocolate-coated tongue, I took the mile walk to get home. This day, I opted for the scenic route and walked to Ponte Vecchio. I felt my steps flowing with the sounds of the river. People to my left caught my eye as they enjoyed their aperitivo, their wine glasses being refilled by the waiter and their crumbs being swept up by the birds. As I stepped onto the bridge my gaze was redirected toward the shops filled with shiny jewelry. All the silver and gold reflecting the light of the sun, made the whole bridge glint. Tourists struggled with their four-wheeled suitcases on the uneven ground while locals went on with their day appreciating the massage the cobblestone gave their feet after a long day.
As the sun continued to set, I stopped at Conad: the grocery store on my street. I filled the basket with Coca-Cola Zero Zuccheri, gluten free farfalle, and a premade pesto sauce. A few steps further to Via dei Conti Sei, a deep breath, followed by an even deeper sigh and just three flights of stairs to go. I started the pasta the second I stepped into my big apartment. My phone buzzed while I finished my pasta. It was the student Whatsapp Group and everyone was going out that night. I quickly pulled out my trusty, smooth little black dress and makeup. In no time, there were more chemicals in the air than oxygen. Dry shampoo, hair spray, and my rose perfume all danced together like ingredients in a magical potion. Once I was ready, I made my way back down the marble staircase and to the pub we were meeting at: Lion’s Fountain. Worry seeped into my body and the muscles in my neck pulled taut. Doubts about my friend-making abilities sprinted through my head and the once quiet thump of my heart fastened. I counted to one hundred and then backwards. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, …19, 20, ……89…97, 98, 99, 100, …97, 96, 95 …74, 73, …49, 48, …32, 31, 30, …19, 18, …3, 2, 1. My eyes weren’t focused on anything. 1, 2, 3, …7, 8– “You’re Avery right?” My skeleton hopped out of my body as the voice on my right came up to me. “Yup. Yup, that’s me.” I took a deep breath as we entered the intimidating bar. Inside the pub was overwhelming. The colors, lighting, sounds, crowds of people had us all unprepared, but we pushed through the crowd anyway. All the girls ordered a shot and a drink. I got a shot of whiskey and a drink that was recommended to me by the bartender: a Sex on the Duomo. Cheers were shouted as we took our shots. The golden liquor stung the back of my tongue, a delicious heat crawled down my throat as I downed the smoky shot. Only then did conversation start among the students. School expectations, future plans, and life backstories were shared that night. Our smiles were captured with the bright flash from my new friend Jelice’s digital camera. So many photos were taken that night. So many memories–and friends–made.
I am surprised. At some point between entering and leaving the bar anxiety completely left me. I got to walk home with the biggest weight lifted off my chest. While walking past the Duomo, I felt the greatest joy settling where my anxiety once was. I had finally found what I’d been looking for my entire life: home. I remember that feeling of belonging, of being home. And the best part was: I got to do it all again the next day.