If there’s one thing Americans and Neopolitions have in common, its their reaction to me telling them my determination to make a life for myself in a foreign country. They ask, “So for how long are you going to stay?” I tell them that I want to become a citizen someday. They ask me if I have family in Napoli and I tell them I don’t even have distant ancestors from Italy. In fact, my European blood comes from Ireland and Germany, hense the reason for my deathly pale skin. There’s just no logical reason for me leaving everything that’s familiar to me behind to move to a foreign country I know very little about. Even more crazy is moving to Napoli, a city that American tourists only brave for one day to see Pompeii and Herculaneum before moving onto the Amafi Coast or Capri. My students always look at me quite perplexed and ask what the hell I am doing in Naples rather than Rome, Florence, Bologna, Venice or literally anywhere else in Italy. I can’t give them a clear answer because I’m still not sure what I’m doing here either. Something inside me just told me I had to go and so I went with it. Everyone tells me I’m so brave but I think the words that really comes to mind is ‘crazy’ but saying that would be impolite. I really don’t believe I am brave at all. I feel that Jesus Christ called me to do something crazy so that this journey will bring me closer to Him. The people who trust themselves to lay out their plans are the brave ones. Everyday is just a new day of trusting my gut because that’s the only thing I can feel like I can rely on in a place where I have few friends and don’t speak enough of the language to advocate for myself in very basic ways. Every single step of this journey I have had to lean on Jesus Christ in a way I never had to when I was in the comfort of America. It’s been the hardest but most necessary part of the journey. I have to remind myself every day that worry is completely irrelevant because Christ will provide every physical, spiritual and emotional need I have throughout the day. Mornings supply me with plenty of worries about the day ahead and all of it’s uncertainties, yet the hindsight of night time assures me of His grace.

In two weeks time I go back to America where I will wait for a work visa to come through so that I can come back and start seeking permanency. It is not my preference to go home but I understand that it is God’s will and I have yet to see the amazing plans He has for me on the form of this “detour”. I look forward to the things I’ve missed most like cuddling my tortoise and telling him he’s my favorite being in the entire world. I think I will nickname him Piccolo when I come home. I’ve also missed hugs from my mum and mornings with tons of coffee (or as my students so lovingly refer to American coffee: dirty water) with my dad. I’ve missed calling my stupid dog stupid because she really is such an idiot. Or annoying my other dog so bad she growls at me (I do have high hopes that she’ll freak out with joy when I walk through the front door when I get home like she did last time I came home from Italy). I also miss that stupidly adorable rabbit my little sister wouldn’t let me pet when he was adopted just days before my flight here. As I’m writing this I can see more clearly why my students make fun of me because the things I miss most about America are animals. I also miss looking like a hobo when I do my grocery shopping and no one batting an eye. I’ll surely be breaking all of the Italian rules even more when I’m home and I’ll be loving every second of it.

I do realize though that going back to America will be very hard no matter how long I have to stay there. The things I miss about Italy will outnumber the things I miss about America today. I know I’ll hold tightly to all the memories I’ve made here and look forward to the new ones I’ll make when I come back again just as soon as I can….