Guest Post/Blog Swap: First Few Days In A Strange Country

“Francesca, I’m trying to call my mom, it’s not working”.

I’m starting to panic.

I just arrived at my host family’s house and I am just trying to call my mom and tell her I’m okay. My school-issued international cell phone is not working! I am half a world away, seven hours ahead of my home town and I just want to tell my mom that I made it safe and sound. I know I’m starting to tear up and I am desperately trying to blink them back-this is so embarrassing, way to prove how dumb Americans are on your first day.

“Okay,” she tells me-I know she knows… “dial this country code first, try that”.

Oh.My.God.

Now I am even more embarrassed, I forgot all about using the country code! I KNEW THAT!
“gratzi, gratzi mil” I tell her and practically run back to my closet-sized room before she really sees me cry.

I have been in Florence for approximately 90 minutes and I am already crying for my mommy. Whose idea was this? Oh, right, mine. Independence, freedom, art, history, ITALY- that’s why I came. The phone’s ringing and I hear my mom pickup.

“Mom?” And now I’m sobbing….

She keeps asking me what’s wrong, am I okay? I know now that she is starting to really worry because all she can hear is me crying. I eventually manage to choke out that I was okay and I just wanted to tell her that I made it and everything was fine. Then I explain about the stupid country code fiasco. Now it’s funny.

Phone calls home will cost me a dollar a minute so we make it a quick phone call and I promise to email.

After I hang up, there’s a knock on my door- it’s Francesca, followed closely by Camilla, the giant German Shepard that lives in this tiny apartment. Francesca offers me a plate of biscotti and says she thought I might need a snack. I know that Camilla is silently offering her services should I not want this snack. I take it from her and she leaves me again, calling Camilla behind her.

There’s one window in my room. The scent that wafts through it from the flowers outside is heavenly. This is when I know I’m okay. I take a bite of biscotti. It is, of course, everything real Italian biscotti ought to be, and I stare out my window directly to at Brunelleschi’s dome.

I am calm. As I take my last crunch of sweet Italian cookie, I turn to my suitcase and begin to unpack. For the next five weeks, Florence Italy is my home.

*Hi, I'm Susan from Adventures in my Kitchen! It's been such a pleasure swappin' blogs with Lauren! I normally write about food, fitness & nutrition on my blog but decided to share some of my memories from my summer in Italy for this swap! I hope you'll come visit my blog to read more, posting my memories for this swap has inspired me to keep writing them. Thanks to Lauren for having me & thanks to you for reading! You can check out Lauren's post on my blog today as well!