Making Time for Travel

My interests include travel. I'm not only interested though; I'm a little obsessed. I warn people not to bring up Italy because I have a tendency to go on and on and on about Italia.

I buy every new travel book that looks sincere and not totally self-absorbed. My latest two are The Lunatic Express and Mayes' new Tuscany book. I fantasize about my past ventures and future hopes of venture. My home comforts with empty wine bottles, coasters, tiles and photos of travel. Why do I get so excited to google holiday rentals in Greece and look for vineyards for sale in California and Italy that I could never afford? My addiction is travel and my lust for it cannot be stopped. And not to just any old place but the places that dwell in my soul for they have found their home.

I like who I become in Italy. I don't always like who I am on the roads of Houston. I'm usually pressed for time on my way to work. It's not even a long commute, maybe 15 minutes on a bad day, but I long for a city where my feet can be my major mode of transport. The only diet that has ever worked for me is eating Italian in Italy and I eat more food in Italy unless it is Thanksgiving in the U.S. Over the course of 3 months, I lost so much weight than an Italian friend of the family I lived with commented upon my departure, "Italy is good to you. You look beautiful. When you came, you were heavy and not so beautiful." Her compliment and honest observation though painful to hear especially since I knew I'd probably gain the shedded pounds once back home, was much appreciated.

My second time in Italy made all the difference. I came dejected, crumbled, disenchanted and tired. Italy offered its best wine and its philosophy that we work to enjoy; we enjoy working for the good things in life, which are beauty. Beauty either made by God or made by the hands God created. This beauty cannot be mentioned without mentioning the people and food. (Oh the food!)

No more insults reigned over me in Italy. No more phone calls unanswered. No more children who worked so hard not to learn. I came to Italy to teach because my teaching in the United States had failed. No Child Left Behind...No Teacher Left Behind might have been more appropriate. I claimed the three year burn out statistic and since my dream of transforming the inner city kids into dreamers and future college students fell so far from expectation, I was ready to try again in a land that was not my own.

I didn't know the language but I didn't care. It would be nice to sit and not have to try to understand anyone for a few moments. Of course this changed rapidly as I became curious about all the beautiful people around me who wore their Prada proudly, even if one dress was both Monday and Tuesday's attire.
My school bell that summoned my students as a cue to begin fighting anything that resembled writing or reading was replaced with the bells of ancient churches. And yet I felt guilty at times to experience such a magificient reality when I knew of the needs back home. We all need teachers but even teachers need instruction. And I was about to have the most worthy lessons.

We're too rushed here in the U.S. Even our sitcoms are rushed. Our commercials, our media. Grab this, go here, get that, fufill obligation, grab a bite, even our off days are spent keep busy, busy, busy. Too busy to call; better to text. Good things, like a fetus in a womb, take time to mature. Time that cannot be rushed. A tree cannot bloom before it's planted. And a seed cannot become a tree before it's watered. Some balanced this in better ways than others but I've always struggled to balance the pace of big cities with the pace of my soul.

If life is a plant, mine was covered in weeds and chiggers. I was itching to get out. And so I bought a ticket and left everything I knew for Northern Italy for a summer. It's the best thing I ever did for that time in my life. Some around me didn't understand. Some around me couldn't imagine having the bravery to go alone into a foreign land, and live with a new family that they'd never met. But I can say I thought they were the braver ones, to stay back and wait for me to return. Without their support whether hesitant or not, I may have never come back. But every season has its purpose.

Travel, whether to your neighbored city or halfway around the globe. This will reveal a new truth in yourself, about this world and the people you love a lot and love a little less. Dare to travel. Immerse yourself in somewhere new. Otherwise you may never be able to step outside yourself in a land that holds new realities that only through experiencing for yourself will always be yours to have and cherish.

And you might get some good food too.