On My Way

I woke up to a room I didn't recognize. Where was I, and what was I doing? It all started clicking. I was panicked. I jumped out of bed, checked the time and started dialing a friend of the family as to not startle my mother.

"Ellen, it's Natalie." I began crying. My voice was shaky and my nerves were so tight that I felt I might throw up. "I'm in Minnesota waiting on my flight. It's in six hours. I got a hotel room to pass the time and I just woke up and I'm freaking out and I don't what to do and..."
"Natalie, it's going to be ok. Tell me about it."
"Well I just realized I'm going to fly across the ocean to live with strangers. I have no idea where I'm going. I don't know why I'm doing this. I'm just freaking out. I haven't slept in awhile. I just woke up but I feel completely disoriented. I'm scared to get on that plane. I'm scared to not get on that plane."

 I did get on that plane, and after that plane, I got on another to finally arrive in Italy. After crying and talking with our dear family friend, I realized I did have a choice. But I'd already made it. I was going to spend the summer in Italia. I cried myself to sleep as I prayed out loud. "Please God, let me sleep. Let me be ok. Give me strength to do this."

I'd been fantasizing so much about how much fun I'd be having in Northern Italy that I forgot to actually face or consider any fears about committing to live with a family I'd met on the internet, to be their daughter's teacher and nanny for three months and to live among people I couldn't even talk to other than 'yes, no, my name is, where is the bathroom, thank you, you are welcome.' I was so busy fantasizing about the vineyard, the vacation to Croatia and the plans I had to meet my mother when it was all over for a two week jaunt around Rome, Florence and Capri, that I didn't even consider this fear that was now gripping me.

As the passengers boarded the plane, my aunt Julie prayed with me over the phone. This would be my last call on my cell phone for three whole months. "God, allow Natalie to have a wonderful, safe flight today. Allow her to have peace while she journeys to meet with this new family..." As she prayed, I realized though making the journey alone, I had people behind me, supporting and loving me. I wasn't alone and I couldn't do this alone.

I took my seat at the end an aisle of six other coach seats. Sitting next to me was an old women, very old in fact. 'Wow,' I thought. 'If she can make this flight, surely I can!' She turned to me. "Excuse me dear, but I cannot seem to find the other piece of the seat belt." We began chatting as I helped her fasten in. She was on her way to see her son in London and to see her grandson graduate college. This was my longest flight until I connected in London to the outskirts of Milan.

Suddenly I remembered my grandmother's blue eyes and as I grasped her crucifix around my right hand, I felt her with me. She didn't have to say anything. I knew I was ready to have this adventure. Fear's grip began to loosen its hold all together. As the plane took off, I was sure I was on my way to the best summer.

My home for a couple months in Italy.

My other home in Italy.

Sailing around Croatia.

Trip to Capri, Italy with my mother.

Whatever it is that inspires you, especially if it scares you too, you should probably do it.

Red hair in Mexico is a sign of bad luck. Accused are guilty until proven innocent in the justice system. Not all police carry guns due to the costs of training and supplying them with weapons. A young policeman was recently killed in San Luis Potosi, Mexico when responding to a house break-in because the thieves were armed and he was not. When a cop pulls you over in my husband's home state, the deal is you hand over a few pesos and go on your way. Bribery isn't a subject of problem.

These are just a few differences I've not forgotten upon visiting his hometown. Walking downtown, I was delighted to see the churches filled to standing room only on a Sunday afternoon. Even young people were present and it wasn't a holiday. Although one weekend I was there, it was a sort of a holiday although I wasn't aware. I thought chaos had erupted on the streets.

It was still dark out and I woke up to the sound of a cannon ball firing. What the...? I laid still and waited. It happened again. Then the church bells started ringing. I'm used to the church bells noting the hour but they started ringing and wouldn't stop. I wondered, "Is this code for emergency like a siren is back home?" I began calling my husband's name.

"Hey wake up, wake up. What's going on!?"
"Nothing."
"Did you hear the cannons?"
"Those are fireworks, Natalie. Go back to sleep. It's a procession."

He resumed snoring before his head hit the pillow. I laid there for the next hour and listened to the festivities. Checking my cell phone, it was 5 am, or was it 4? We fell back the night before and later I found out this was the way of the church to celebrate this change, by singing, parading and firing fireworks down the city street at 5 am.

I'd walked in a procession before in Urbino, Italy. It was an inspiring moment. The faithful walked up a winding mountain chanting prayers and singing hymns as the priest led the way. The purpose of this procession was to transfer a painting of the Madonna from one church to another. Children were dressed up in angel costumes and parents encouraged them to stay together and usher us along the way with their wings. I saw more than one old woman wearing a necklace with a type of locket that displayed a photo of a deceased husband. Its length such that it rested along their heart.

One thing remains known, in any country be it Mexico or what have you, you are bound
to discover intrigue and surprise. Fortunate is one who is able to shed their ways, foods, thoughts, practices, language and find their altered self living among another culture's reality. For it changes and challenges yours forever.