Journey Home

Although my journey home was a three and a half day journey, I loved every second of it. After spending every moment of 7 weeks either responsible for children or under the jurisdiction of a host family, having a few days of complete independence and alone time was heaven.

During my last week at camp in Malo, I booked a ticket to see Verdi’s “Aida” at the Arena di Verona for Saturday night. So upon departing from my host family on Saturday, I was excited to see yet another famed Italian city and of course to see an opera at one of the best summer festivals in the world. Once in Verona, I found my way to my hostel, which was actually university housing that had been converted into a hostel for the summer. I was halfway around the world and still couldn’t get away from dorm life! It was small and cheap, but adequate… the only problem was that I found a few tiny black bugs jumping on my legs (maybe fleas?!?). Anyway, Verona turned out to be one of my favorite cities I have seen in Italy. It’s fairly small, but has the feeling of a large city. The main piazzas are really touristy (so many Germans!!), but the locale around my hostel seemed strictly Italian. Also in Verona are the houses of Romeo and Giulietta (Juliet). Giulietta’s house has been preserved beautifully, including the famous Giulietta’s balcony—which is thought to be made from half of a sarcophagus. Below the balcony is a fairly new statue of Giuliette that is supposed to bring good luck to those who place their hand on her breast. So naturally, there were tons of tourists lined up to take pictures of eachother touching this statue’s breast. I didn’t feel like fighting the crowd to cop a feel myself, but it was quite the sight!

My ticket for the opera was the cheapest one available, meaning that I would be sitting high up in the unnumbered seats section. In fact, there weren’t seats at all—the ‘cheap seats’ were just spots on the original stone steps of the arena. The arena was fascinating in every way; it was so cool to know that I was seeing an opera from the same stone steps where people gathered for entertainment centuries ago. Since my section was general admission, I arrived two and a half hours early to get in line for a good seat within that section. What I found was that the seats were actually really good. I could see and hear everything perfectly, just from an angle instead of straight-on. The performance itself was the most amazing production I’ve ever seen. The sheer size of the cast blew my mind: there were over 150 people on the stage at one point... it was just crazy. I can’t imagine how much it must cost just to have costumes on all of them. The set was also extremely impressive, with a giant rotating pyramid and huge Egyptian statues everywhere. Because the festival has five or six operas rotating in the schedule, several of the large set pieces for the other productions were just sitting outside the arena for all to see.

The audience of the opera was as diverse as one could imagine, but there was definitely a clear distinction between those who had seats on the arena floor and those of us sitting on the arena steps. The arena floor had a separate entrance, which was visible from my seat. I watched as men in suits and women in ball gowns paraded themselves to their red velvet chairs as those of us in the stands just wore whatever we had on from earlier that day. It was definitely one of the most obvious ‘separation of the classes’ events that I’ve been to. But as the opera started, it didn’t matter what I was wearing or where I was sitting; I was experiencing the same music and splendor of the atmosphere that every other person in the arena was…and it was magnificent. As an Arena di Verona tradition, people in the audience lit candles to mark the start of the opera as the conductor took his stand. Seeing an enormous Roman Arena filled with candlelight from hundreds of people was truly a sight to behold! And of course, the singers were world-class. The soprano playing Aida was absolutely incredible… my jaw was dropped after each one of her arias. It would make sense, as a singer, to become discouraged after hearing singers who are leagues better than one could ever hope to be… but oddly, it just encouraged me more than ever to keep singing. The beauty of art is that it is subjective and can therefore never be “perfect”. And as an artist, there is this pull to keep training and get better and better; to strive to reach one’s full potential, as imperfect as it may be.

The rough part about seeing operas in Italy (particularly the outdoor sort) is that they can’t begin until the sun is completely down… which, in the summer, means about 9:15. So a 4 –act opera such as “Aida” runs until about 12:45am, followed by the half-hour walk back to my hostel. The next morning, I made my way to Milano by train. A bit too ambitious, I decided to save a few euro and walk to the station instead of taking the bus. An hour later, I arrived at the station with all my luggage still on my back and completely exhausted… but the walk was beautiful. I got to see what Verona looks like in the morning. And being Sunday at 10:30am, there were countless church bells tolling all around me, assuring me that I was getting a full European morning experience. My stay in Milan was quite uneventful. I walked around Piazza Duomo for a while, comfortable with its familiar and home-like feel, having stood in the same piazza about six or seven different times over the past two summers. I made my way to the hotel where I relaxed until my flight to Atlanta the next morning.

As I checked-in at the Milano Airport, I was told that my flight was filled to capacity and they had bumped me up to first-class free of charge: SCORE!! I always thought that first class just meant you get a bigger seat and more leg room, but boy was I wrong—it was a whole different world!! I felt like a king (and I also made sure I appreciated every second, knowing that this might be the only time I ever fly first-class). It must have been so obvious to the other passengers that I had never flown in such style before. I reveled at all the free stuff, took a picture of each of the four courses they served me for lunch, complete with unlimited free wine and champagne (I can’t imagine what the dinner must have been like!). The seat could recline almost to a horizontal position, complete with a footrest. The pillows were huge and fluffy, and there were nice quilted comforters on our seats instead of those puny blue blankets I’m used to. In the pocket in front of me, was a free pair of huge headphones, as well as a bag of complimentary toiletries (lotion, lip balm, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc). I couldn’t believe it! I suddenly felt like one of those suited men in the floor seats of the Arena, receiving amenities far beyond my needs. And just as the separation of the classes was apparent at the opera, here too it was quite obvious. Not only were we seated in the front of the plane, but there were closed curtains separating us from the coach class, making it easy to forget that there were others on the plane who were receiving a lesser service than we were. I suppose that’s kind of a good reflection of how classism works in society as well. We build ‘curtain’ dividers in the form of district zoning and, therefore, in education and housing that allows the higher classes to go about their lives without much interaction with the lower classes. It’s easy to ignore the things you don’t see.

My luxury continued as I arrived at my Atlanta hotel. My father had booked me a hotel room because I had an overnight layover… but little did I know that he reserved it with his diamond status honors points (thanks to all his company traveling for business). So once again, my stay was quite luxurious!
As I now await my departing flight from Atlanta to Springfield (which is delayed…ugh!), I am planning what song to listen to on my iPod as the plane prepares to land. (I always like to heighten exciting experiences by finding a song that matches my emotion at that time and jamming out to it.) My choice this time is “When You’re Home” from the musical “In the Heights”. The most fitting lyrics are: “Everything is easier when you’re home; The street’s a little kinder when you’re home.”

Topsy-Turvy Italian Tid-Bits

1.) I’ve been contemplating lately what defines a tourist. This probably sounds like I have a superiority complex or something, but when I’m in Italy I don’t feel like a tourist. No, I’m not a citizen. Yes, I’m taking lots of pictures. Yes, I’m buying souvenirs for family. But no, I’m not staying in hotels; I’m living with families. I’ve seen villages and countryside that no tourist has. I’m working there. I’m teaching the children of the country. I’ve sang in the bars and streets. I have friends there. And yes, I will return. I can’t help feeling like more than just another tourist. I’ve invested more of myself there than that. When I see American tourists in the piazzas of the major cities, I feel qualitatively different from them. I know this probably just sounds like I’m being pompous, but I think this feeling is a good thing. I feel connected to Italy in a way that will always remain within me… and I’m so grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to create that feeling.

2.) I’m worried that graduating from college is going to bring a particular challenge to the forefront of my life: eating. For all the years I lived at home, my parents provided me with unlimited food and always prepared it for me. Now, as an RA at WashU, I will have had a full meal plan for all four years of college. And my summers in Italy consist of host families cooking me/paying for every meal. I’m beginning to realize that sometime in the near future I am going to be responsible for feeding myself… and I am NOT looking forward to it! Spending the time and money to shop for and prepare meals is going to come as a real slap in the face… But, unless someone would like to point me in the direction of Neverland, I guess I have to become a full-fledged adult at some point or another.