The long way home

The long way home is not really that long anymore, since I am already leaving half way around the globe. I already flow north across 4 time zones coming from Samoa to Portland, and I only have to cross 9 more time zones, this time flying mainly east. The long way home although does feel long, because every mile I am closer “home”, I am also closer to so many ghosts from the past that I could happily leave without…

I wake up at 5:30am on Tuesday morning. The sun was already out, and I am so used to waking up with him that I could not go to bed anymore… oh well… I will pack…

At 9:00am, Liz, Biniam, Biniam’s sister, Biniam’sister’s husband and I squeezed in the car, with a large amount of luggage, and headed to Portland’s airport. We let Biniam’s sister’s husband drive (having the bigger man driving would save us some leg space), and it was fine for the first 20 seconds, until he said “wow, it is always fun to drive on the opposite side of the road! Just tell me if I make a mistake”. At that point we all realized that he is in fact from England, and that it must be a bit challenging for him to drive to the right side of the road…

It was during the car drive that I realized that Americans are very superstitious. Even more than Italians. This was the event that made me realize it: there was a long column of school buses on the right on side. The road was crossed by a rail road, and apparently all the school buses had to stop, one by one, in front of the rail crossing, open their door, close it and then they were free to pass. In Italy we do something similar when a black cat crosses the road in front of you. If this happens, you usually stop the car and wait for somebody else to pass you (in this case he will get the bad luck that the cat left behind, not you). The buses definitely were being passed by a large amount of cars… I am sure the both events (the rail road crossing and the black cat crossing) lead to same kind of accident in the past, but the Italians never dreamt to make it a national law, while the Americans did. Curious.

The flight was fine, I really have to say that Lufthansa are awesome to fly with. Especially because they quite often overbook and I always put my name in the volunteer list at the check in… this means that you volunteer to stay behind and leave the next day, in exchange of 600 euro cash, hotel, dinner, breakfast, and most importantly, one more day in Oregon with my friends! Unluckily, this time I was the last volunteer that they were able to fit in the plane… this is why is important to go and check in early!

The layover in Germany for the next fly to Italy was nice too… wireless, chocolate and free tea… the airport is… very German! They have special boxes where you can in to smoke ("smoke and go"), and people go around with bicycles…

Rome… Italy… I am here! A friend came to pick me up at the airport… it feels so weird, so foreign… it is not home anymore… it has been 10 years since I left it. The house where I used to live is rented to people I do not know, most of my friends left Rome and I have no more family here… But the smells, the colors, the noises, still bring familiar, sweet and sad memories…

Somebody once said: “home is not a place to go, but a feeling to have”… how true! I think I found my home between somebody’s arms and I am looking forward to go back there…