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

Everything about my journey to Italy was perfect and I can’t believe that I’ve had such a great beginning to my adventure. Michelle, Paul, and Roman reminded me of the love that our family shares and gave me the perfect last morning state-side. My mom then drove me to the airport and although she almost got arrested trying to follow me to the plane, she made my departure memorable and I couldn’t have asked for a sweeter send off. (Love you!)

Even my pre-flight times were entertaining. At Bush Intercontinental Airport I met a Michael Jackson impersonator who wasn’t pretty damn good, and in Newark I neglected to make concessions for the time zone change and was forced to sprint down the concourse to catch my plane on time. I made it in true movie-style, scanning my ticket and walking down the jet way mere seconds before they closed the door.

I met several interesting people on my flights and exchanged contact information (gotta love the networking power of confined spaces). It was interesting to note that flying in and out of Houston I saw city through the plane windows, in Newark I saw New York and the Statue of Liberty, but arriving in Roma I was greeted by hay bails. That’s right, hay bails. they must have known a Texas boy was coming and threw some out there in an attempt to make me feel welcome.

At the Aeroporti di Roma I met up with Ryan and Miguel, two fellow University of Texas students. We had an enormous span of eleven hours before the rest of the group arrived, so we set out to find something to do. A few trips around the airport and much broken Italian later we discovered that there was a beach ten minutes from the airport. We paid a few Euros each to store our bags, bought bus tickets, and abbiamo andato alla spiaggia.

Our trip to Fiumicino proved to be most enjoyable. We found countless ristoranti, gelateria, and then came across a great man-made beach next to a fishing pier. There was a great bar with ice-cold beers and plenty of topless sun-bathing women. I immediately stripped off my shoes and ran into the refreshing waters of the Mediterranean. And the sky here is without description… I constantly found myself gazing aimlessly, awed by it’s beauty. Incredible!

We could have lazed around in the balmy 75 degree F weather all day long, eating our gelato and laughing at the Italian fashion, but we had to meet up with the group back at the airport. We inadvertently convinced a bus driver to allow us to ride for free and were quickly reunited with the other students. A charter bus arrived to take all of us into Roma to meet with our new families. Suddenly a wave of nervousness and excitement washed over me as I realized that I was too excited to recall even the simplest Italian expressions.

To be continued…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3