Two days. Two days until another 4,034 miles separates me
from my California hills. It is a humid, blustery Monday here in Connecticut,
but I find myself longing for the dry heat of the Central Valley or the misting
fog of the coastal range.
 |
| High up in the hills of California |
Listen to me, homesick already and I haven’t even left yet.
That’s what you get when you shove 2,628 miles between home and college: a constant
state of homelessness and a hatred of airports.
At least I don’t have to worry much about culture shock. I
am a pro at dealing with that curve ball. Coming from a crazy,
kinda-sorta-but-not-really Americanized Italian family, I have my fair share of
preconceived notions regarding Italians. However, my knowledge of the culture
is strictly limited to Sicily and the mainland, specifically the region of
Puglia. I am used to the welcoming nature of the Italians, and I recognize the
importance of respect and family in their culture. These are elements which I
believe will be common in Cagliari, and I look forward to discovering the
differences between Sardinian and mainland Italian culture.
There, I said it. The problem now is doing it. Of course I
am afraid. Of course I am nervous. Of course my parents call once a day
reminding me to pack this or buy that.
The fear is the best part.
It comes down to vision. I find the most amazing sights
when I wander, lost in Boston’s Financial District or through the valley oak
and waist-high grass of my Northern California home. You have to be open, you
have to wander with your eyes peeled for something, anything, and everything. I
do not seek adventure, I seek the moments when realization dawns and I
understand something I never thought existed. There is a certain amount of
gumption to it, almost like a knack for peaking around corners and being ready
for anything. The curiosity stays with me, my constant companion and closest
confidant. I held its hand and let it guide me through 250-year-old graveyards
nestled between condominiums in my first year in Boston, and now I will let it
carry throughout Sardinia.
There is so much more to a place than the landmarks. I
do not want to conjure the image of the Eiffel Tower when I imagine Paris, nor
do I want to visualize The Gateway of India when I picture Mumbai. In a month, when
I envision my time in Cagliari, I want to see its back alleys and markets, its
beaches and churches. Culture is in the people and how they interact with their
surroundings, and I have every intention of jumping in to the current of their culture
and letting it carry me off.
I want to learn of Sardinia’s past, its present, and
where it sees itself in the future. I want to better understand the nuances and
policy regarding waste management and resource recovery: specifically how it
applies to Sardinia. Finally, I want to fully immerse myself in a people
unknown to me, and leave with a more complete understanding of their priorities,
history, and customs.
