Friday, July 4, 2008

Coming back

So, today I went to take a walk in the town. Doing some errands.
It's really funny.
This is the town I grew up, I went to grade school, and I lived for the first 25 years of my life.
And I came back about 10 days ago. In my new apartment (who was my granfather's, but has been renewed) I still don't have a table, matching chairs, and the "office" room still needs t be assembled.

It's strange to walk around.

Things havent' changed much, faces have changed even less. I don't know who they are, but I have already seen them

It has been difficult for me to come back here, in this place. I don't like the thinking schemes of most of the people who live here.
The same people could be found anywhere else.
The difference is that here I know them.

I know about the very smart girl who had to go to the high school her mom chose for her, and couldn't go to the university because that's not a place for women who get married and have children, and who has never rebeled to all this, because she was so into this way of thinking that she never considered there could be an alternative life.

I know about the girl who got admitted to the Rome Dance Academy, and who run away after a week because she couldn't stand to live on her own, because here in Italy they teach you you should always be close to your family, it's not good to go too far from them.
This drives me crazy.

And I know so many other stories like these... where the laziness, the blind acceptance of the fate is outraging.

And then, there is me.
I feel like a snob, here, sometimes.
I am the one who was never content with what the place would offer, who decided to move to the States, to come back, to live with her boyfriend without getting married - a scandal!
Who is about to refuse a remunerative 2 years job offer just because she has realized that kind of job would just make her miserable.

It's funny how people look at me when I walk. I am not wearing anything different or strange. But people just turn and look at me. They try to figure out who'se daughter I am. Who I look like. Who I am.

And then... on my way home I look down towards the green valley. And then further, to the mountains. I start remembering how I missed being surrounded by trees when I was in NY. They are still there, they cover the mountains, there are some more holes than 8 years ago, but they are there.
There are fields of grass. Some houses. All is green and fresh. The colors are brighter.
And the air smells like flowers. I had forgotten the smell of my town in the summer, but I have just realized how much I missed it.

I don't know how life will be for me in this town. My move here is just one of the 1000 things that are changing for me at this time.

But I had a sudden urge to prepare my camera for more picture to take
The camera I abandoned when I got into my depression.

There are pictures to take. Of the fields, of the trees, of the green.

Before it's all gone.
Before I am gone again

1 comment:

Kelly said...

This was beautiful. Coming home is always bittersweet. But for now, I'm glad you can enjoy the trees and the smell of summer.


Related Posts with Thumbnails