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Hasta la vista America! Opps, I mean Ciao!

Hasta la vista America! Opps, I mean Ciao!

May 17th, 2013: the day I’d been waiting for since I first heard about the John Felice Rome Center. The day that trumped being done with finals. The day that I would continue to live my dream of traveling the world. May 17th, 2013 was the day that I departed for 6 weeks in Rome and there was no looking back. This particular Friday was not like any other travel day I had ever experienced. For instance, wake up, wave goodbye to my small Iowa town, drive 2 hours to the Minneapolis airport, go through security, eat overpriced airport food blah blah blah, you know the routine. For me, May 17th, 2013 was also the day that my little brother would make his debut at the Iowa High School State Track and Field Meet at Drake University. What a day for my parents, watch their only son be one of 24 boys in the 1A state division to compete for the high jump state title, and ship me off to Europe for half of the summer (probably to get me out of the house. Genius.) This day of excitement called for a 5 am wake up, I repeat, 5 AM! A little fun fact about myself, I am not exactly the happiest camper in the morning (and that’s putting it nicely, ask my mother). But as my Dynamite alarm clock sounded, I had to have been the happiest person on planet earth; I kid you not. Fast-forwarding through the track meet, I gave my brother a congratulatory slap on the back and received my first goodbye hug. Needless to say, there were no tears shed on either end. And so my parents and I went on our merry way. Des Moines → Mason City (to pick up the dog of course) → Minneapolis → Amsterdam → Rome. Unfortunately for my parents, that sequence stopped at Minneapolis and took a u-turn back to Mason City. Saying goodbye to my parents went exactly how I expected it to go. My dad gave me the typical “Be safe honey. You’re going to have the time of your life but you need to be careful, you’re in a foreign place and people will recognize that” lecture. My mom, a woman of many tears, surprisingly did not cry. Which proved my theory that she was indeed sending me off to Europe to get me out of the house. However, only 15 minutes into my solo journey, 1 new text message (MOM). Apparently the tears were just a little delayed that day because she told me that she was now crying. To whoever is reading this, I will save you all some time, the Minneapolis airport and my slumber across the Atlantic Ocean is not all that exciting. “Attention passengers traveling on Delta flight 9580 service from Amsterdam to Rome, at this time we will begin boarding business class and Platinum card holders.” I anxiously jump out of my chair only to sadly remember that I am a college student who is definitely not flying first class. Wait, did I really just use the adverb sadly while explaining my travel experience to Rome?! Someone slap me now. When it was finally turn for me to board, I happily claimed my seat next to a window. Remember when I said I wasn’t exactly a morning person? Well that was all catching up to me (even after I slept 7 of the 9 hours of the first flight) so naturally I slept a majority of this flight as well. When I woke up, I started talking to the middle-aged American woman next to me about our travel plans. She then began digging around in her purse and telling me about her daughters that were my age. She pulled out a small paperback prayer booklet and handed it to me. She knew I was traveling alone and going to be a long ways from home for a while and told me if I ever get lonely or homesick to take a look inside. It’s small acts of kindness like that that restore my faith in humanity. It wasn’t until I had to lug my bags on my own that I realized I EXTREMELY over packed. Luckily it wasn’t more than 200 feet before I was swarmed with Italian male taxi drivers. I agreed to one and he led me to his car where his wife actually drove me to campus. After some slight confusion with directions (yes Mom, I got lost, not surprising I know), my two-day travel extravaganza was over. As I walked up the cobblestone walkway I heard a familiar voice clearly coming from a window of one of the dorm rooms. “Grace grace!” I looked up and noticed it was my friend and teammate, Rachel Bush, surrounded by a group of new friends hollering, smiling, and laughing. It was that moment that I knew I was going to have the time of my life at the John Felice Rome Center. Keep reading miei amici (my friends). Ciao! grace

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