Pink Clouds and Rainstorms

September 17, 2023

How has it already been a month?! As my new Norwegian friend said, “I feel like I’m on a pink cloud”. The past couple weeks have truly felt like a dream.

A few updates quick updates before I dive into my week:

1. The squeaking friend I have been hearing at night is actually a bat living outside my window

2. I still don’t have Wi-Fi, so I read another three books this week and I am becoming a sort of modern Picasso

3. I really miss pumpkin spice everything and funfetti cake

4. I still haven’t ridden my bike – mainly because after hearing some horror stories I am 90% sure I bought a stolen bike

Since getting here, I have been in a pre-course that my professor offered to any students who wanted to go over basics in viticulture and enology. This week we only had three days of class to wrap it up, then on Wednesday after class we had orientation. It was an hour-long power point presentation followed by drinks and aperitivos at a local pub – all covered by the school. So that was fun! Only a little better than Alive Orientation Weekend at WSU where you’re stuck playing icebreakers and listening to presentations and walking for two days straight.

After orientation, my friends and I started making our way to the center of town. We got to the nearest bus stop and thunder started rumbling. We had missed the bus by a minute and had to wait another 20 for the last bus of the night to come by. And then the downpour started. It wasn’t the kind of rain you could shield yourself from – even under the slight cover of the bus stop – so I went out into the rain and stood there. Soaking it in. Que Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield. Once my friends gave up on staying dry, they joined me, and we danced in the rain. We danced, we sang, we laughed, we got honked at my Italian drivers passing by, and we got absolutely drenched. It was kind of an accidental wet t-shirt contest, and a few of us were unfortunate enough to be wearing white. When the bus finally came, we got on and giggled our way home.

The next day I ran a couple errands and read a bit before going over to my new neighbor from Norway’s apartment for dinner. Unfortunately, she’s not cousins with Viktor Hovland, my favorite golfer who is also Norwegian, but she’s still pretty cool. She is a lovely girl who went to sailing school and is now getting her undergrad at the same school as me. She made a delicious dinner (with many vegetables, which I have been lacking), and we drank wine and shared some AMAZING chocolate she brought from home. “I feel like I’m on a pink cloud,” she said, “but for some reason I keep waiting for it to turn to rain. I need to just enjoy living in a pink sky.” Amen to that, sister.

I haven’t cried a single time about moving. In the weeks before I came here I felt a little numb, and the week after arriving I was anxious, but no tears have been shed. Since starting the pre-course three weeks ago I have had the most amazing time, but there’s always that thought looming: When the storm going to role in? Why do we always think this way? I like the occasional thunderstorm as much as pink sunset skies anyway! And I probably wouldn’t appreciate vibrant sunsets without seeing gray skies every now and then. So why do I stress about pink clouds turning gray? There is a time and a season for everything. And I am going to enjoy this season of laughing and dancing as much as I can.

I went out with my friends Thursday and Friday. We met a few locals, and I tried to learn a little bit of Italian from them, but I wasn’t all that successful. On Saturday, I went to see my Italian mom at the coffee shop and had a macchiato before heading to the morning market. I was mortified when I got home to find a coffee stain on my nose after I’d been out wandering and shopping for nearly an hour. I spent the rest of the day reading and relaxing.

School officially starts tomorrow. So far, I’ve met 5 of the 15 people in the program with me. I’m looking forward to meeting new classmates, making more friends, and learning about other cultures. European school is crazy – I will be at school for 8 hours Monday and Tuesday, then I have a 2-hour class Wednesday morning, and every weekend is a 4-day weekend. The only thing we are graded on are our final exams. It’ll be an adjustment, but I’m looking forward to it. The lack of busywork, the way they value actually understanding what you learn rather than just memorizing it, the hurry up then rest mindset. I am already falling in love with the European lifestyle; with living in the moment and slowing down.