The Start of My Gap Year

It's almost been a week since I've been back from Italy, but it's felt like both a millennium and a mere day.

I hit the ground running when I landed back onto North American ground, and within 48 hours, I had gotten a haircut, checked out a book from the library, bought some art supplies, picked up my mom from the airport, sent in 6 job applications, and started cleaning out my belongings. The next day, I surprised myself (but nobody else) by falling asleep at 2 in the afternoon and sleeping like the dead for 3 hours. 

It's been slightly less hectic since then -- but not by much.

It's a wonder how many things you suddenly want to toss out and reorganize once you've comfortably survived with a mere fraction of your belongings. It's as if my life is split: before Italy and after Italy. I've turned into one of those minimalistic creatures who have all these grand plans. At first, it seemed like I'd reached too far and nothing would get done.

But then I got these two books that launched my gap year off perfectly: Do More Great Work (by a plethora of authors) and Love Does (Bob Goff). I finished Love Does yesterday -- and wow. You don't have to agree with every line he says, but this man and his attitude towards life is pretty incredible and insightful. I haven't read through a book this fast since high school - so I highly, highly recommend taking a look. It's a fast read, full of short stories that will cause you not to just nod and agree, but want to do something about it. 

I've been making a list of dreams, goals, and whimsies for this year, and I already know firsthand -- it's going to take an almost infinite amount of self-motivation to live this year with no regrets. But I'm acquiring a buddy system, a support group, that even though it sometimes seems like I'm alone in this process, I need to remember that I'm not.

I'm also not one to care much about what the rest of the world thinks of me and my life, but for some reason, I always land the privilege of hearing its opinion anyway. Yesterday morning, I went to the dentist's, and predictably, the first get-to-know-you question was: "So what are you up to these days -- school? Or are you working?"

The hygienist gave me a sympathetic look at the mention of my job search. The dentist congratulated me with his typical silly demeanor, but yet with serious undertones, told me to goof off and enjoy it while it lasts. But with the wisdom of a old grandfather, he gave his stamp of approval at the mention of PA school. Later that day, during a pseudo-phone interview for a job, I'm asked about where my paintings can be found, and the recruiter came to his own conclusion: that I was a scientist who was trying to start up her art business but needed some extra cash.

I'm tempted to shake my head and smile, but I have a feeling I'll be doing that a lot this year. We'll let the world think what it thinks. Meanwhile, we'll see where life takes me with my paintings, jobs, and PA school.
Cheers to unknown adventures and the unlimited possibilities in life.

Short Update: in the midst of transition

First off, sincere apologies to my faithful friends and readers for neglecting this blog. I've gone off the grid for a while, as my study abroad program officially ended a little while back. (I think this also means I've graduated?) I've inadvertently taken a short break from blogging, and have been doing plenty of reminiscing and transitioning, throwing in some traveling in between.  

I'm beyond happy to announce that I've finished submitting my PA school applications. The GRE scores have also been sent in, and although I'm quite a bit poorer, there's a massive relief off my shoulders. Next step: waiting. Although it can be second nature at times to compartmentalize this application process as something merely on a to-do list, I am reminded that I have chosen this path with much deliberation, and I'm excited for what the future will bring. 

Airports are great places to reflect, and my flight back to the United States will depart in a few hours. I think I can say that I've officially started my gap year, and I plan on making a list of goals for this year (however short or long it ends up being) to remind myself of why I'm taking this year "off" (but not really...) and how I'm going to get things done. 

Right now, I'm a mix of thankful, exhausted, nostalgic, frustrated while walking on uncertain ground. I have no set plans yet on what I'm doing upon coming back - aside from moving back in  with the parentals - but I think I simply need to accept this unknown as part of the adventure. Although, I just submitted a job application while waiting for a flight, so... cheers to being productive. 

I wasn't sure what to expect for my final day in Italy, but it went so horribly wrong that it I became superstitious and believed it was my time to leave. I ate probably the equivalent of one piece of bread that day, from lack of appetite because I threw up three times (am I getting too personal with this blog now?), ran around insanely with my mother to catch five different trains and two flights (don't ask how this is possible in a day), got frustrated with the lack of available and free bathrooms, ate the worst Italian food I'd ever had, almost lost it when the nonexistent concept of lines proved more evident than ever and prevented me from obtaining ice cream, and then at the airport in Rome (only you, Italy) does the gate number not show up until half an hour before your plane takes off. I encountered some of the rudest Italians I'd ever met so far, and in the south of Italy, the only thing I could understand and say was, Ciao, due to the extreme differences in the Italian language. This is a concise way of describing that unreal day. If I am was a weaker person, I would have wondered if my whole time spent in Italy helped me understand any of the Italian culture (or language for that matter) that day. 

I don't know, but I think I'm ready to come back to my home in Ohio, where I don't have to think twice about where I'm using the bathroom next, or how to catch the next train, or finding cheap good food. I'll be able to cook, set my own transportation schedule, and be back in the familiar. 

I've definitely changed, and learned some valuable life lessons along the way. But I'm ready to be home. 

I hope to be in touch and see you all soon.
Cheers from London, tutti! 

Taking a Deliberate Leap: my graduation road trip

Last week, I can honestly say that I made one of the most courageous, scary, deliberate, crazy, and spontaneous decisions of my life. I realized I had six days off before my first final exam here, and I debated taking a short trip to celebrate my impeding graduation. I followed through with this idea, managed to persuade a fellow student to join me, and turned this trip into a graduation present for myself. 

Looking back now, it doesn't really sound like a huge deal, but renting a car, driving in Italy through parts relatively unknown to non-Italians (and even some Italians), while not yet 21, was really nerve-racking. Everything was booked the day before, and reading up on how driving works in Italy would give most of us a panic attack. We stayed in agriturismos, which are places in the country, similar to B&Bs, and I learned how to trust, rely on, forgive, and travel with another person. We visited cities, coasts, beaches, medieval towns, the countryside, and off-the-grid areas of hot springs with sulfur water -- all in three and a half days!

Traveling within Tuscany opened my eyes so much and added another dimension to my perspective of Italy. To visit places where Italians go on vacation (versus tourists) made me appreciate the beauty and variety of Italy's landscapes even more. I've already started painting pictures from this trip and can't wait to start so many new series. 

Here's some photos from the trip. Have a glimpse of Tuscany, which does have stunning hills when the light falls across, but is so much more... 

{the regional park of Maremma} 

{the agriturismo I stayed at for 2 nights -- beautiful. You could pick strawberries and eat them right there}

{from our car window: the beauty in being able to stop at anytime, anywhere when you have a car} 

{this was a ghost town since it rained earlier in the day. Looks like the Caribbean?}

{the last town we stayed in: Paganico. No one spoke a word of English here :)} 

{Porto Santo Stefano -parking struggles, Porto Ercole, and Talamone}

{impromptu visit to a festival in Magliano in Toscana, a medieval city built on a hill}

Intro: Reverse Culture Shock

Heading Home: 
Return. Rediscover. Readjust. 

My journey back seemed uninteresting to me until now. I'll be documenting it with these steps of return, rediscover, and readjust. Not every student will experience this to the same degree, and it doesn't affect everyone. I'm curious to see as to where I'll stand!

1. Return: the re-entry process back to home

The initial shock at this time can refer to the disorientation and perhaps frustration when you realize that 'home' isn't everything you remembered it to be. The basic stages are shock (I don't recognize this place anymore, everyone moves so fast), honeymoon (it's great -- my dog recognizes me, I can have Chipotle again), homelessness (for Italy: missing the interestingness, the independence), making peace (beginning to fall back to routine), and acceptance (being able to compartmentalize the experience in its proper niche). 

2. Rediscover: your own culture

I'll probably view American culture from a new perspective, and the different understanding can cause some minor hiccups. 

So, to you all at home, here's some thoughts you might have (or already have had) about me:
"I can't relate to her perspective. I'm tired of being reminded to 'think globally'."
"She's had the time to travel -- now it's time for her to come back to reality."
"If she mentions how they do things in Italy one more time. . . "
"All she talks about is Italy! I feel like my life is so boring when I hear about her adventures."

How I might be feeling:
"My friends have not matured and changed as much as I have."
"I feel like I am in the middle of nowhere -- really cut off."
"I thought I would be able to pick up where I left off with my friends, but I've had to start over again."
"No one listens to me, or cares about my experience, or how I lived."

Although all of the dialogues above are examples provided by the school, a few are freakishly accurate. I know I've already heard a few similar things from friends, and I've experienced feeling selfish on Skype dates when I'm constantly talking about me, myself, and I in Italy. It helps when I'm receiving updates in return, but I also think the last examples are the most accurate -- about others not wanting to hear and for me, no one wanting to listen. I'm in a constant stage of adjustment.  

3. Readjust: with a plan 

If you're reading my blog, you're already part of my support system for this journey back. To reconnect with you all, I plan on being proactive with setting up coffee/gelato dates with everyone. ;)
For myself, I'll create new opportunities and adventures by reading more (I have a list of books already), getting more involved with my community, painting constantly (while reviving my Etsy shop), exploring local events, somehow maintaining the Italian I've learned, improving my photography, job searching, and cooking Italian food. I'm excited to get back in the field of healthcare and see how my experience here will change the way I interact with patients and view medicine as a whole. 

Although I'm positive I'll pine for Italy like never before, I'm more ready to jump on the next boat, and see where that takes me. 

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson 

{a sweet friend acquired on the road}

Am I ready to go home?

This post may seem premature, since I don't return to Ohio until May 23. My school, however, ends on May 9, so discussions center around plane tickets home and summer plans. It didn't help that one of my closest friends here left yesterday (she took the picture above at my school), as her program already finished.

The big question is: am I ready to go home?
or, from the other perspective, am I ready to leave Florence?

To a certain degree, yes.
Each passing day, I am more conscious of the fact and reminded of one more thing I'll come back to. This entire time, I haven't thought about the clothes I've left behind, and now I'm having visions of certain shirts in my wardrobe in Italy. I'm suddenly remembering all the cool things I own, including Italy-themed gifts from my friends, because to be honest -- I've completely forgotten about my things, after living like a minimalist here in Italy. Remember how much (or little) I packed? (Read about it here). Sadly enough, I'm also looking forward to fast, reliable internet. Walking into a cafe that advertises free wifi that's actually there. The affordability of food and clothes. Free bathrooms and water. Food variety. Chocolate chip cookies. Pancakes.

But most importantly, my assured readiness mainly comes from some major epiphanies I had recently about science and art. If there's only one thing I could share about what Italy has done for me, this would be it. Having this said epiphany facilitated my awareness and preparedness to return home -- because ultimately, I've gotten what I've come for.

On top of that, I've something to come back to -- and I'm beyond excited, to say the least. I'll save the details of grad school applications, summer plans, and gap year ideas for another post, but basically, I'm ecstatic about all the opportunities that await me: including the variety of jobs and ways I can spend my time. I have so many different cool experiences to look forward to (we can call the first part of my gap year: life in applications, since that consists of 97.5374% of it).

I'm ready to start another adventure when I return, because apparently, when you're out of school, you are FREE. Want to work full-time? Do it. Start up a new painting series by staying in your studio for 3 days? Why not. Work night shift? There's no class in the morning. 'Tis a strange transition that I've yet to wrap my mind around. I suppose society entrusts that I'll do well with my time.

But then the worries always sprout up: I won't be able to walk everywhere, I can't speak in Italian anymore, I won't eat as much (we'll see about this), or eat out as much (those handy meal tickets have spoiled me); I won't have a painting class, and I'll have to seek out where to satisfy my gelato cravings. I'm afraid I'll fall back to routine, and that my memories of Italy will fade away in some dark, distant corner in my mind. I cannot fathom how that's possible, as I think of my life now as before Italy and after Italy. I'll miss the fresh pastries, walking across the Ponte Vecchio, seeing the Renaissance that lives on here. 

 

To be honest, I'm almost scared to come back. Everyone else, I'm sure, has been undergoing their own changes in life, and I'm fearful of the term we call "reverse culture shock". I hear it's worse than culture shock, which describes the experience when you first are immersed in a new culture. Coming from someone who didn't experience immense culture shock coming to Italy, I'm truly afraid it'll be so much more difficult for me to adjust back. I think of Italy as my home, and the other day, we received a talk about what to expect for reverse culture shock, and I almost got emotional in class. I'll share more on this in future posts, because it's truly helpful for y'all to understand my perspective and for me to understand yours. 

Nowadays, my feelings consist of relief at coming home as well as nostalgia for Florence. I look forward to days when I don't have the hovering thought that this is a once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity; I must make every moment count; I need to try something new today. There's a subconscious pressure of constantly budgeting (hello, no paycheck right now?), constantly learning, absorbing, taking in new things, and making the most of it. It sounds like a great problem to have, but 'tis stressful. 
But on the other hand, I can't imagine not being here anymore, and that makes me into a more desperate person. The other day, I got up at sunrise to sit on the column of the Santa Trinita bridge (which may or may not be illegal), pulled out my watercolors, and painted the Ponte Vecchio with a frenzy I didn't know existed. 

So am I ready to come home? Yes. 

But am I ready to leave Firenze?
Not quite yet. 
I'm getting there, and my brain is adjusting, but we will just say that it's good thing that my time's not over yet.

Reflections: What Solo Travel Teaches You

To travel alone is to seek, discover, and pursue all the answers to your thoughts and questions. 

It is your adventure. 

Here's a short blurb of some notes I jotted down after my first solo trip. 

Far from a comprehensive list, this is a simple reflection of a few things I've learned -- I've got plenty of stories to share for each point. 

But from my experience, solo travel teaches you. . . 

• about how possible life can be -- that usually the thing that limits us the most is ourselves

• that you are in the world, as opposed to living in a bubble and interacting only with people you know

• about the magnificence of human generosity 

• that despite the immense differences throughout the world, they all pale when we realize we are merely human beings in ONE world {this registered whenever the classic iPhone ringtone went off wherever I traveled -- sad but true}

• the value in stopping, taking the time to capture that one fantastic photo, which can serve to transport you back to the moments

• people are fascinating: I'm more interested in the whys and hows of people's lives

• about myself: I'm a happy introvert with extrovert tendencies; I'm a planner that adds spontaneous touches

• how to tell your relevant life story in minutes to strangers -- the basics being where you live, what you're currently doing, where you've traveled, and why/how you're here. 

• that memories need to be valued. These memories are not the kind to experience and forget; they're worth holding onto, remembering, and sharing over and over and over 

• who you are. For me -- I'm a sojourner, perhaps more than I'd like to admit. {I became aware of this fact when I journaled: 

"I'm a sojourner, plain and simple. As I'm on the train from Milan to Santa Margherita -- a spontaneous decision prompted by the rainy weather -- I realize I feel so at home. Oddly enough, I'm more comfortable than I've ever been even in Florence, a surprising revelation to admit."

I got far more than I ever expected, and it complemented my study abroad experience perfectly. 
The deliberate leap was unknowingly scary, but it became one of the most fulfilling experiences in the end. 

“Only by going alone in silence, without baggage, can one truly get into the heart of the wilderness. All other travel is mere dust and hotels and baggage and chatter.” – John Muir

Hunger Banquet

The other night, I was invited to attend a charity event (called a Hunger Banquet) hosted by Oxfam -- a nonprofit, worldwide organization that aims to change the world by ending the injustices causing poverty. Apparently, this is the first time they've done this event with American students here in Florence, and they asked two staff members from my university and a few students from our program to attend and provide feedback.

Always one eager to try new things (and then entering self-doubt right before the said event), all I knew was that it was about world hunger. And that food would be provided. 

Little did I know this would be one of the most interesting events I've attended. 

First, you receive a character card that basically tells you who you are by chance, and we are divided into three main categories -- high income (over $6000/year), middle income ($1300-6000), and low income (<$1300). Joining half of the people there, I landed in the low income group. I was a farmer's wife in Guatemala, going hungry due to a famine that year. 

They seated us accordingly, with the high income folks on the stage. A speaker started off by introducing Oxfam and the goals for that night -- for us to realize the crisis of world hunger and keep that perspective in mind. We got plenty of facts; for example, approximately 9000 people die every year as a result of hunger and malnutrition. 

They also called out a few names from the audience and facilitated some changes in income, and consequently seats -- for example, seamstresses who started a business and moved up, or a natural disaster that financially ruined a family. Interestingly enough, the ones who did switch income classes were only between the middle and low -- the high were untouched. When you consider that only 20% of the world is in that class, it opens you to see the global reality a little more.

During the break, everyone was fed what their respective income classes could afford: a nutritious meal on a plate, then rice with beans in a bowl, and last of all, a mere cup of white rice served with dirty (dyed) water -- which I got. The dirty water even ran out (I couldn't tell if it was intentional) so I simply had my fistful of white rice. 

During our "dinner" break, I had the chance to talk with the volunteer coordinator at my school. This whole experience was quite fascinating, and I wasn't sure yet what to think of it. She explained the Hunger Banquet from her perspective. 

"It's different when you present this information to young people. For us [she is in her 40s], it is difficult to change. We can help by giving money, but our life is, for the most part, already set. But for you, being in your 20s -- your life is not drawn out yet. You all are still malleable, and this can affect your idea of the world and you can be the change."

Wow. I told her I loved her positive way of thinking. Because meanwhile, I was considering the opposite -- a false impact. Where we are emotionally moved by the facts, we want to solve the injustices of poverty and world hunger, and yet because most of us have no remote idea what it's like to be in that situation ... It becomes a social event that reaches only the superficiality of the issue since we are so far from reality.
We see it, we understand it, and now we're at loss. Because we don't have enough life experiences yet to even fathom the political and economical complexities involved, we treat like a "based on a true story" movie that we can talk about, think about, and sadly, often forget about -- despite our good intentions. 

Perhaps this just all proves how cynical I am, but I prefer the term 'realistic'. Both ways are crucial to analyzing such a unique event. But I understand her side, too. Sometimes, just knowing this is enough, for now. We don't have the answers, but recognizing this problem of world hunger is the first step in changing our attitudes and mindsets, and eventually influencing our choices and actions. 

After the dinner break, the speaker asked for our thoughts so far. She posed questions relating to feedback, as well as deeper questions about poverty -- the last question asking what we can do to solve this (perhaps a little too deep. I don't think anyone chimed in for that one). 

Unfortunately, the response was minimal. It was enough, but I would've wanted to hear more. Perhaps it was the type of questions, or the way it was phrased that didn't incite thought-provoking responses -- not sure. Dylan, a fellow deep thinker in my program, went a little more complex in his answer to one of the questions, and yet the speaker simply acknowledged the answer. Perhaps smaller groups could have set a better scene for discussion (for perhaps a resource-based economy that Dylan really wanted to talk about). 

The event was pleasantly interesting in structure, which became a nice surprise. The innovative idea of the rice allowed a bit more connection, but of course, we all knew we could eat later, so I'd hardly call it a simulation. Interesting, nonetheless, and it brought my considerarion to international issues such as poverty and hunger.

(A photo I entered into their Instagram contest and won a certificate for gelato)

Personally, I feel that resources and opportunities are key. If it could somehow be set that people in disadvantaged situations could choose to get an education or simply have a fair opportunity to switch income classes, that would help even it out. Another concept that came to mind was globalization. Yes, we would lose cultural aspects, history, and a big part of the diversity that makes up our world. But it's happening already, and globalization is what flattens our world and makes education and opportunities all more equally accessible to all humans on planet earth.

It's a difficult topic. How can we begin to comprehend this when the average American will have a car, own 2 televisions, and have the ability to even choose their food -- versus plain rice?

What are your thoughts on this? Charity events, world hunger and poverty, then the audience of study abroad American students -- impactful, or not?

Just an Ordinary Conversation

I think being here has made me a more all-around, deeper thinker. I'm actually seeing the ordinary as something surprisingly remarkable, and so, my posts have been less about what I'm doing and more of what I'm thinking and what's impacted me recently. There's so much documentation to keep up with that I just need my blog to be different. I'll try to keep it balanced for all my faithful readers, but for those wanting pictures -- Tumblr would be your best source. 

I knew it'd be a feat to get out of the American study abroad bubble in Florence, but I'm excited to share that it's finally picked up. Sad, I know, as I only have about a month left. But just in the last two weeks, I've met up with an Italian medical student twice, had dinner with an Italian family, and now had this deep discussion with this Italian boy about life under the Tuscan sun. (In contrast, I don't think I had an actual conversation with an Italian for the first month and a half.)

Life under the Tuscan sun: 
through the eyes of a young and hopeful Italian 

This boy is doing a short internship at our school. 
He's here for 5 days and from my perspective, taking a short break from school and being used by American students. The intermediate-level students have to give a presentation on Italian lifestyle, and he's the prime victim for information. 

The Americans sign up for an hour of conversation with him, and he practices his English (but due to that, I've heard few Italian words exchanged, even though ideally, the Americans are supposed to practice Italian.)

Well, after one such appointment he had, I happened to be in the library near him, and we started talking. 

The Facts

He's 17,

got 9 turtles (that multiply every year), 
eats pizza with his family every Sunday, 
and lives on the outskirts of Florence.

He goes to a scientific high school 
(here they are segregated into classical, linguistic, art, etc. depending on what you want to do. They think about this earlier than we do). 
Usually these students want to be an engineer or doctor, but of course, he says he doesn't want to stay in school till he's thirty. The doctors here don't have as much job security as we'd think, so it's iffy. 

He's traveled within Europe - Barcelona, Paris, and Germany, but doesn't think highly of traveling solo just yet. When I tell him about my trip, he accepts my reasoning but refuses to call it a vacation. 
"What's the fun in going by yourself? If I want to visit somewhere, I would want to go with my friends." 
I'm just waiting for the day he converts -- because I'm pretty sure I would have said the same thing at 17. (Actually, I thought something similar -- a fear of not meeting people to travel with -- only a few months ago in January: see Travel musings post here.)

Ordinary conversation: 
revealing the hopes and dreams of an Italian boy

We then talk about comfort zone, and despite not wanting to travel solo, he loves the idea of expanding your zone. He says that once it gets bigger, you can't go back. That life is about expanding that zone -- of course, he's demonstrating this with his hand gestures -- and seeing a little bit more each day. He likes changing it up, doing new things, and he explains to me that the idea of having a real job for the rest of his life scares him. 

"I feel this heavy burden on my shoulders," he says when describing his feelings, "knowing that I have to do the same thing over and over again for the rest of my life."

That thought proceeds to freak me out too, so I say, That's why we choose something we love. 
We both agree on that. 
He asks what I'm doing, and I tell him about the PA profession that I'm trying to get into. 
This is quite a difficult thing to explain, as PAs don't really exist in Italy. Only a handful of countries have adopted this profession. He's interested, so of course, I explain more about it -- why I want to be a PA, and the differences from a doctor. 
I'm pretty sure I convinced him it was the coolest job ever, because he consequently asked me if they have it in Italy and how he could become one. :) Who knows -- maybe one day it'll happen and I'll have recruited an Italian, a Florentine, into the pre-PA club. 

Like many Italians his age, he has never been to the United States. If he can, he'd also like to visit the top destination Italians go to when arriving in North America -- New York. But of course, that'll be a ways forward in the future, due to the unspoken obstacle of money. I say, anything's possible. It may be extremely difficult, but figure out your priorities. It can happen. But until then, continue to enjoy all the Europe has to offer. 

We settle on that. Does he want to stay in Italy for the rest of his life? 
His answer is equally elusive as the future: "I don't want to work here, but I'd like to live here." I'll leave that interpretation open to you. 

Well, there you have it -- the highlights of our conversation that made me almost late for class and him missing most of his lunch break. But it was worth it (at least to me). I'm learning to stop, take the time, and see a bit more of the world through someone else's eyes. Although my days are overwhelmingly busy (yes, the "study" in study abroad does exist), I'm trying to snatch every opportunity I get. 

I'm all for those moments that do not directly change my life, but are remarkable and memorable at the same time. All of these amazing experiences are finally catching up to my brain, and I'm so excited to share all these life epiphanies. :)