The bus pulled up to the station and I could see a line of people eagerly awaiting our arrival. All of the students streamed out and then our new “parents” mixed with the crowd, many holding photos of their student and calling out his or her name (poorly pronounced, of course). I stood in the middle of this chaos and allowed it to swirl around me. Then I saw the face of one man filtered through the rest and he immediately walked up to me. “Will?”

I soon learned that Michele was the father of the family I would be staying with. He had brought his son, Eduardo (seven), with him, but his wife, Lorenza, and daughter, Isabella (thirteen), were not able to come. Michele is friends with Uogo, another host family dad, and they rode together, bringing along Uogo’s daughter, Viola (fourteen). A fellow student of mine, Miranda, and I piled into Michele’s car with all the aforementioned people.

Eduardo and Viola asked question after question in Italian, and it was all Miranda and I could do to attempt enough replies to keep them satisfied. Eduardo is one of the cutest little boys that I have ever seen and his energetic and optimistic attitude reminds me of my own little brother, Andrew, so I immediately took a liking to him. Michele and Uogo simply smiled and interjected their own comments whenever appropriate.

Suddenly we rounded a corner and Michele made one single statement that silenced everyone in the car: “È il Colosseo!” How does one vocalize such an immediate introduction to one of the world’s most treasured monuments? I was not able to utter a single word, but rather I tried to let my mind comprehend what my eyes were just beginning to absorb. To see it in person is astounding.

Our car drove on, Michele announcing the names of various artifacts and ruins as we passed them, but Miranda and I were still dumbfounded by our brief viewing of the Colosseo. Michele asked if were were hungry and, upon receiving an answer in the affirmative, proceeded to take us to a local pizzeria. We walked up and discovered that this innocent sounding question was really a setup: both of our host families were waiting with authentic Italian pizza’s and wine. It was a surprise festa just for us!

What a true welcoming! All my nervousness about the trip and the people that I would be staying with instantly melted away and was replaced by a subtle–what’s the cliche?–warm, fuzzy feeling. My family had the waiter bring out a special pizza just for me. It was a mix of cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms, olives, tomatoes, a big slice of salmon, and a raw egg dropped right in the middle. Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I dislike just about all of those ingredients, but there was no way that I was going to let all these people down. So I just manned up, shoved the whole thing in my mouth and swallowed as quickly as possible! They loved it.

The eating and drinking continued for several hours–I would quickly learn that this is a normal occurrence in Italy–with the whole lot of us laughing and enjoying ourselves despite our many communication errors. Finally it was time to go, however, and Michele and Lorenza led the short walk to my home for the next five weeks. I was so tired after my journey and the huge meal that not five minutes after they showed me my room, I was fast asleep dreaming about all that I had experienced.

To be continued…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3