The Storm Before The Calm

August 28, 2023

After what felt like a month-long farewell tour, August 15th finally rolled around. I had been super anxious the weeks prior to leaving. I love my friends and family, I liked where I lived – why was I leaving it all behind to move across the world to a country where I don’t know the language or a single soul? Regardless, on the day of the flight, I woke up excited and ready to go. I tearily said goodbye to my sister and dogs, and we were off.

My parents got TSA precheck, so they got through airport security quickly. I, on the other hand, had to wait in line for two hours (while having to pee the entire time). When I finally got to the front, I swiftly removed my laptop, shoes, and placed them in the bin. I have to brag about this, because it has been a life goal of mine for some time: The lady at TSA said “Thank you! I looked at you and said ‘Thank God! This girl knows what she’s doing.’” So, my life was made.

The flight went smooth. I don’t believe in using Wi-Fi on planes, so I read a whole book and watched Top Gun: Maverick. I didn’t sleep a wink. After 14 hours in the air and one stop in Chicago, we landed in Milan. We took the train to Piacenza, and the moment we stepped out of the station I felt an incredible sense of peace. This is home. We got to the hotel and I took the classic post-plane shower (I’m convinced that there’s no better feeling in the whole world). Piacenza is a smaller town, and not a lot of people here speak English. We fumbled our way through dinner and finally slept. I woke up at 3 am to a panic attack. What am I doing here? How can I go home? I’m too tired to go home. I can’t sit for that long again, and how am I going to take two suitcases and a carryon to the airport with me without my parents' help? Three hours later I finally fell back asleep.

Our first morning in Italy we went to a café my dad had found. We got a cornetto integrale (a croissant filled with jam) and a cappuccino. The owner, Rosanna, speaks zero English, and we spoke even less Italian, but we communicated through hand gestures, Latin roots, and Google Translate. We came back the next few mornings and eventually exchanged phone numbers. She told us she would be my Italian mom, and she always said “Tranquilla”. She said it as my mom cried about leaving me. She said it when I asked if my neighborhood was safe. She said it when she told me I would have no problem making amicas. Tranquilla. Calm. That was just the encouragement I needed.

Over the next couple days, we explored the town (as much as we could during a heatwave) and moved my luggage into a temporary apartment. I am so thankful my parents came with me to help me out and encourage me. It was too hot to do much of anything, and I was too nauseous to eat during the day and too stressed to sleep at night. Not a great combo.

After our third day in Piacenza we went on a little vacation and my anxiety finally started to turn to excitement. I am in Italy. We went to the Italian Riviera where we kayaked, swam at sunrise and sunset, talked about wine with our Airbnb owner at his wine shop, ate at a three-star Michelin restaurant, and somehow squeezed in some much-needed rest. From there we went to Florence where I got to show my dad all my favorite places from when I studied abroad. The pesto risotto I’ve dreamt about for the past four years lived up to my memory. From Florence we went to Bologna where we had to walk up 110 stairs to get to our apartment. I only stayed one night, then headed back to Piacenza by myself to take care of some paperwork and see if I truly could navigate the train system alone. I did, and it was great. I met a kind Australian girl named Maddy and we chatted about her travels and my dreams and went on our separate ways.

I spent that day checking off my to do list and doing everything I could to stay cool, despite the fact it was 100 degrees outside and 95 inside my apartment. I had no AC, no Wi-Fi, and no knowledge on how the heck to work my stove. Not that I’d want to in this heat anyway. I kicked off my time in the new place with a homemade caprese that would offend any Italian (straight up cherry tomatoes and a ball of mozzarella, drenched in balsamic, of course) and a tin of sardines (I needed protein). I had to drench a towel with cool water and use it as a blanket in order to sleep, but I slept through the night and woke up refreshed.

That morning headed to the café to see Rosanna and get a cappuccino. She asked where my parents were, and I said they’d be back later and we’d come say hi tomorrow. Domani. She is slowly teaching me Italian. She gave me a big hug and an americano and sat with me as I drank it. It’s cool how despite not knowing what they're saying, you can know someone’s heart. She is an angel.

My parents got back to Piacenza later that afternoon and we spent their last few days shopping, eating, and hiding out in their air-conditioned hotel room. It was hard saying goodbye to them but it made this all feel more real... in a good way. My first night truly alone, I had a classic girl dinner of a caprese (this time with a real heirloom tomato and burrata), a piece of prosciutto, a rice cake, and a six-euro bottle of white wine that I chose solely for the label. I hadn’t had a vegetable since getting to Italy. Oops. As I winded down for bed, my phone chimed with a WhatsApp message from Rosanna. “Ciao Annika, TT Bene?” I quickly opened google translate to type a message saying “Hi! Yes, sad to say bye to mom and dad, but good, thank you for checking in.” I hadn’t gone to say hi to her this morning. I had gotten breakfast and a cappuccino with my parents and said goodbye, and I didn’t feel like getting a second cup of coffee from her. “Moto bene. We are closed tomorrow but I’ll see you Monday. If you need anything let me know! My son runs the bar at night so one of us is always at the cafe”. I’ve always hoped to be a regular at a café or pub somewhere in Europe, but I didn’t expect to have an Italian mother-figure-café-owner with a handsome son checking in on me. Especially not in my first week.

Today, I woke to church bells and a crack of thunder. The heat wave was breaking, a three-day storm was rolling in, and I couldn’t have been happier. Maybe it’s because I grew up near Seattle, but I love the rain.

School starts in a couple days now and I’m feeling nervous but ready. I am excited to meet people and I’m excited to learn. Until then I’ll be sitting at my window in my Wi-Fi-less apartment, sipping tea, reading books, and listening to the rain fall.Tranquilla.

Until next time!!

Cheers!!

Annika