I've run so long, I've run so far. (Day 1)

Hello all. Long time no post. But don't worry! I'm back shall sate your appetite for risotto and rigatoni!

Plan ride over was uneventful for the most part. Drank a lot of ginger ale. As soon as I waved goodbye to my parents one last time and officially turned my back to go down the escalator on the other side of security, I could feel tears starting, and the finale from "Children of Eden" starting playing in my head, which has lyrics along the lines of "How lovely was the world we had/In the beginning/Now we begin."

Full disclosure: I. Was. Terrified. I honestly had barely any idea what I was getting myself into, and over the summer I had kind of lost a bit of sight as to why I wanted to do this in the first place. I never changed my decision, but the whole idea of this trip, and the fact that it was actually going to happen, had been pushed so far back in my mind that I started to half-believe it wasn't actually going to happen. And then, going down that escalator, the reason why I was terrified hit me. I was the most alone I had ever been in my life. Everything else I had ever done had been done either before by or with someone in my family. I've been to foreign countries before. I've gone to prestitious and expensive institutions before. But this is the first time I was doing both on completely my own initiative. That realization, that basically I had and have no one to blame but myself for whatever happens, that you have finally learned how to make your own decisions and control your own path is a scary, scary thing.

While in Newark (aka New Jersey trying to be NYC) I espied a few people who looked like American college students, and sure enough, when we landed in Milan I saw them with IES luggage tags and folders and booklets etc. We all kind of collided at the luggage claim, picked up our many and heavy bags and silently decided to stick together and find our way into Milan.

You see, Malpensa airport is Milan's international airport. However it's actually located about a 40 min. express train ride outside the city. We had to lug our luggage (seriously, why do you think it's called luggage? You LUG that bag with you. It does not come along quietly and compliantly) down so many stairs, wander around until we found the sign reading "Treni," figure out if it was the treno we wanted, then find the booth or what have you that sells i biglietti per i treni, and then find the platform. All while lugging the damn luggage.

This was a lot harder than it sounds. Refer to video in previous post.

So, by now, I'm wearing clothes that I've slept in and basically been wearing for two days without showering, and now I'm sweating. Best birthday ever.

Train comes, and we start to load all of our 100, 5,000 lb. suitcases onto the train. We're all huffing and puffing and trying to help each other load all of this on before the train takes off.

And all the Italians do is stare. Grazie mille, gente. Grazie mille, e grazie per un simpatico e amichevole "Benvenuto!" in la sua paese.

Finally we finish and collpase into our seats. We chat on the train ride into the city. We are not loud by any means, trust me. We are not being disruptive or jumping around. Just chatting very pleasantly.

And all the Italians around us are shooting dirty looks, thinking "Pah, americani ragazzi. Tutti completamente senza respetto."

So we arrive. At this point, I'm was feeling incredibly adrift in this tidal wave of events and emotions that have washed me up on Milan's non-existant shores and was desperate for a hug from someone, or something farmiliar that I could relate to.

That desperately needed hug came in the form of my future roommate, Kazarae Lowe, born in Jamaica and probably one of the most beautiful people ever. Like, seriously.

So we pile into a cab (again, not easy with that huge LUGgage and a teensy tinsy Italian cab). We arrive at the IES center about, literally 30 secs later, and it turns out to be actually a very beautiful, clean, well-kept structure with an inside to match. Honestly, I was expecting, like, a tiny single office in some remote corner of the city. Nuh-uh, this place is outfitted with WIRELESS baby, something that's practically unknown to the average Italian. Windows in every classroom, a gorgeous courtyard, computer lab, the works.

We drop off our luggage in the basement and are told that we are free until 2 p.m. when the bus will be coming to pick us up and take us out of the city for orientation. Or rather "Thea bussa willa arrrrrrriva ata due, e you arrre frreeea until thenna."

I'm sorry, these people speak absolutely marvelous English, but I just ADORE their accents.

This is where I randomly meet Sarah, a junior at Bowdoin in Maine, and the only person thus far that I feel like I truly click with. Don't get me wrong, everyone on the trip who I've met/talked to/spent any amount of time with is incredibly friendly. I just haven't really found very many actually friends yet.

Then again it's only day 3. I have 109 days left with these people. And then the NEW batch comes in, YEE-HAW!

Anyway, Sarah and I and another girl Lauren, who's luggage was lost, ended up going to a cute little cafe at the end of the street and then completely wandering around a couple of streets in Milan and getting semi-lost. Keep in mind, it's hot. I'm still wearing the same clothes, and still haven't showered. Have been and am sweating. Basically I don't feel human.

Finally we pile on the bus and ship outta town. It seems almost impossible, but even then, after knowing these people for about a grand total of 4 hours, the middle school Maya pokes her head up and starts feeling socially isolated. Already. I do my best to tell her to shut the f*ck up, keep an open mind, be patient and be genuinely nice to everyone. Have the personality genes of my father, none of the above are easy.

I'm missing everyone. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and be in my bed. Or that I'm going home in a week. I haven't wrapped my mind around the fact that I'm going to be here for a very. long. time. And all these people who I'm having mixed or good or bad feelings about are going to be here too and I'm going to have to get on with them. I remember a similar feeling coming to the Netherlands. I just couldn't reconcile myself to the fact that I wasn't going home soon. That this now is home, at least for 7.5 months.

But at this point, I'm beginning to realize the following: There are always going to be people who don't like me. There are always going to be people I don't like. There are always going to be people I am jealous of. It's not worth it to dwell on any of the above. Case in point for me: middle and high school.

Also I have to tell myself that it's okay to be a little homesick. The longing for security and familiarity and predictability is something that's ingrained evolutionarily into all of us, to one extent or another. My world has just been majorly shaken up in every way; I'm in a foreign country, with no one and nothing I know, a language I barely speak and a culture I'm familiar with only through Beppe Severgnini's "La Bella Figura." (Good book. Everyone read it). This is a new and difficult situation, but it's nothing I haven't done before in one form or another. And I am going to see all the people I left behind again. Really, I am.

As the day wore on, I met Anne and Laura, my other two roommates. They and Kazarae honestly seemed like the nicestest people in the world. I lucked out in the roommate department, considering how many girls in this group I've noticed who seem like the blonde-preppy-suburb types that I...shall we say I have difficulties getting on with?

Days two and three coming.