New Year's Eve in Roma

For the past several years, I have had a bit of a problem making New Year's plans. It always seems to come down to 10:00 on New Year's Eve, and I am still sitting at home trying to decide where I want to go and what I want to do to usher in the new year. This year, it came close to happening again. It's not that I couldn't find things to do; I had plenty of options. I just couldn't make up my mind which celebration I wanted to join.

I've always dreamed about celebrating New Year's New York style, with massive crowds of people, tons of commotion, lots of action, and buzz throughout the whole city. I've never spent a single New Year's like this. Most of the time, I join friends for a quiet and laid back party in someone's house, and the most exciting moment happens when we all gather around TV and watch the ball drop in Times Square for the second or third time that night (depending on if I'm in AZ or TX), count down to the New Year, and blow horns and throw confetti when the clock strikes midnight. Sound familiar? That's all I've ever done really. But I enjoy it. Here in Italy, people traditionally dress up for New Year's Eve and either go out to a very fancy dinner (and by fancy I mean at least 100 euros per person) or get together with friends at a local venue or someone's house. I was invited to a small party similar to this, in addition to several other options: Zoila told me that they were having friends over on New Year's and I was welcome to stay, I heard about a party in a pub with the friends I've met in Foligno, and I read about an outdoor concert in the main piazza in Spoleto, a nearby town. As you can see, it was quite the decision to make. On top of all that, I knew that Rome is only two hours away and might offer the most exciting New Year's of my life.

I agonized over the decision for almost two days, going back and forth and back and forth (what a surprise...), until I finally spoke to my friend Jess in Rome. In a brief conversation with her (in addition to the suggestions of quite a few people on facebook), I was convinced that I should go to Rome to celebrate New Years like I never have before. And boy did I ever.

At around 4:00 on the 31st, I started getting ready for my busy weekend. Jess and I had planned to go to Orvieto (a town in Umbria about an hour away from Foligno) for a jazz festival that was going on that weekend. Going to Rome meant I had to pack not just for the night, but for the whole weekend, so I took my time, putting together all my necessities for a jam-packed schedule over the next few days. I knew I didn't want to miss my train, because that would mean pretty much missing out on New Year's, so i left a whole thirty minutes early to walk to the train station and buy my ticket. I was so early, in fact, that I even stood in line to buy my ticket, rather than using one of the automatic "fast" machines. I wasn't sure where to check to find out which platform my train was on, but I looked at the printed schedule displayed on the wall of all the train departures and arrivals, found my train and platform, and headed to Binario 4.

As I was getting on the train, I saw two girls about my age and asked them if this train was going to Rome. They replied yes, and we all got on and sat down. Sitting in the train, I noticed something a little strange. I knew that it was not going to be a busy night for traveling, since it was a holiday, but it seemed eerily empty for a train that was headed to Rome of all places. I waited for the train to leave at 6:30 and was quite disappointed when I realized it was 6:35 and hadn't left yet. As I was sitting there in the empty train wondering when it was finally going to leave, I looked outside at a couple platforms over. There was a ton of people standing outside and they all started cheering as the train arrived. I wondered to myself where all those people were going that they would be so excited about, and then leaned back in my seat and told myself to be patient for my train to leave.

Twenty minutes later, I was quite antsy that we were still sitting on the tracks and had now figured out that that meant I wouldn't be getting into Rome until nine instead of 8:30. My morale was quickly dropping. In confusion and frustration, I tried to ask the other girls what was going on and why we hadn't left yet. They were just as confused as I was, so they couldn't give me much of an answer. We spent about five minutes looking for a person to talk to and trying to figure out if our train was broken and delayed or even where it was heading. I'm not sure how the answer finally came about, but a few moments later my heart sunk when I found out what had happened: we were on the wrong train. I heard someone shouting about platform 2 and had the awful realization that the train that I had watched come and go with dozens of excited and rowdy passengers was my train into Rome, and it had left me behind for another two hours to miss out on my highly anticipated New Year's celebration.

By this point, I had been excited about New Year's in Rome all day and couldn't wait to finally get there. Once I got on the train (the wrong one), I had texted Jess that I was on my way and she said she would have a delicious dinner of pesto gnocchi waiting for me when I got there. I was thrilled, seeing as how gnocchi is my favorite pasta and pesto is my favorite sauce, and my grumbling stomach was anxiously awaiting the savory meal. When I found out that I missed my train and would now have to take the next train two hours later, I completely lost it. Maybe being around crying children all the time is rubbing off on me a little, but I could not stop the tears from flowing. I called Zoila and Aurelio in desperation, frustration, and a bit of hysteria, and they told me Aurelio would be on his way to pick me up from the train station so that I could come home for a little bit before my next train left.

I was home for a grand total of 30 minutes I believe, but I was very thankful for some loving words and helpful encouragement, along with a little food in my stomach, before Aurelio was kind enough to drive me, once again, back to the train station and escort me onto the correct train.

During my second trip back to the house, I grabbed my Italian book so that I would have something to read while I was on the train. I spent the two hour trip to Rome studying up on some Italian and trying to improve my very much lacking language skills. I think it may have helped a little :)

Once I got into Rome, I had to get off the train and take the metro to meet Jess near the Colosseum where she lives. I could not believe what I came across. I went into the metro to the place where you buy tickets to get on and couldn't even find the ticket booth. It was completely hidden by an enormous crowd of hundreds of people, all waiting in line to get onto the metro. I pushed, shoved, and fought my way through the crowd to try to get to the ticket machines, but ended up having to wait in line just like everyone else. By this point it was around 10:00.

I finally got a ticket, then braced myself to join the fury of the crowds as I fought for my spot on the metro. Several trains came and went before I found myself at the front of the line (although it was not a line, it was a mass group of mayhem) and was able to step onto a completely jam-packed, no-room-to-move, not-even-room-to-breath metro.

Fortunately I only had to go two stops, so I knew I wouldn't have to be stuck in the claustrophobic chaos for long. Unfortunately, everyone else only had to go two stops as well. The entire train exited when we got to the Colosseo stop, and the madness only seemed to relocate itself from the inside of the metro to the entire metro station.

Let me illustrate this crowd for you. High schoolers, twenty something year olds, teens... young people, groups, friends....yelling, shouting, singing, cheering, chanting.... champagne, beer, smoking, drinking, on who knows what.... drunk, high, buzzed, crazy.... excited, anxious, exhilarated... busy, packed, pushing, shoving, squeezing, moving, going, everywhere. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe. I simply rode along with the crowd, following wherever it led and wherever it would allow me to go. And it grew in intensity. I thought back to quiet Foligno and the empty train station there; I couldn't even comprehend that this was out in public, in the city, and there were this many people all doing the same thing and going to the same place at the same time. As I floated along with the crowd up the stairs to the entrance of the metro station, I heard a soft chant begin to echo through the tunnels. It gained more and more spirited participants until it became a full-on Roman cheer sung by all the drunken soccer fans that were using their popular cheer to unite the people of Rome together on this festive evening.

That was not the last time that night that I heard that song. But I didn't think much more about it because only a few minutes later, I bursted out of the mouth of the cave, running for space and fresh air, when Jess showed up without my even realizing it, grabbed my arm, and got me out of the pandemonium. We took a quick picture to document my official safe arrival into Rome, after hours of obstacles, frustration, and disappointment, because I had actually, finally made it!

We briefly stopped by her house so that I could drop off my bags and finish off the rest of the gnocchi, then we headed out once more into the hullabaloo on the streets. As we walked past the Colosseum, sparks flew, fire burst, and the sky filled with smoke and bright lights. It wasn't even midnight and fireworks were already going off all around us. Our destination was a concert by a famous Italian artist, Claudio Baglioni, that was taking place about a half mile away in the Piazza Venezia. We set out towards the Piazza but it wasn't long before we realized it was a futile attempt. The further we walked, the thicker the crowd got and the stickier the ground got from spilled champagne and beer. We weaved and swerved our way as swiftly and quickly as we could through the people, without much luck. During our journey through the crowded streets, we came across something strange. The people suddenly disappeared and the crowd dispersed, leaving a random clearing open in the middle of the street. Jess and I were quite ecstatic about a moment of fresh air and traffic-less walking, so we darted through the middle of the open circle to cut across to the other side of the street. Not a good idea.

The crowd...

...Followed by the random clearing

If you are ever in a war and there's an area that no one is walking in, surrounded by crowded streets, it's probably for a reason. It's likely to be a dangerous area, perhaps with landmines or hidden perilous devices. Don't think that a street festival in a large city is any different. Before Jess and I even realized what was going on, we heard cracks and booms next to us and saw lights sparkling at our feet, followed by immediate shouts from Italians who were clearly trying to get us out of the danger we had gotten ourselves in. Luckily we made our way back into the safety of the crowd and continued on our trek to the other end of the mile-long street. All the while, fireworks were booming in the sky, firecrackers shaking at our feet, and sparklers spewing everywhere. The thuds were so thick I could feel the earth shaking and the pounding in my chest when they went off. It was never clear where they were coming from either. We kept walking and every so often we would hear someone yell, see a bunch of people quickly jump out of the way, and then hear a loud bang.

Have you watched a war movie? Have you seen what it's like when there are air raids on a town or village? When all the people in the town are ducking and running for cover, and all they can hear are the booms and bangs of the bombs going off around them, not knowing where the next one will strike or how close it could be to them...? This is what I felt like. I was just waiting for the moment that a firecracker would go off right next to me or that I'd accidentally step on some ticking time-bomb and create a few more sparks than I really cared to see. I've truly never seen anything like it.

When we got about halfway to the Piazza, I turned and looked at Jess and said, "I don't think we're going to make it." It was 11:50 and at the rate we were moving, it would have been physically impossible to make it to the stage, dodging all the people and fireworks, in ten minutes. We decided to retrace our steps backwards, just a little, so that we could be a little closer to the Colosseum and park ourselves in a good spot for the count down.

We ended up next to a group of four Italian guys that were very happy to introduce themselves to us. We started talking and learning a little about each other when the madness suddenly became a roar and the tens of thousands of people on the streets starting shouting out, "Sette, Sei, Cinque, Quattro..." The Countdown had begun, and I was not prepared for it to be in Italian! I can count to ten no problem in Italian, but counting backwards is a whole different story. I pathetically and unsuccessfully attempted to join the countdown, but by the time I was able to think of the right number, the count was over and the New Year had begun! We yelled Buon Anno, gave each other Italian cheek kisses, and whooped and hollered that it was 2011. Then I started to notice a light mist. Champagne was pouring down from the sky, shot out from dozens of people all over the streets. The mist quickly turned into a downpour, and Jess and I were ducking and hiding behind others to avoid getting completely soaked. It didn't work. I thought I had successfully escaped the wine shower, only to touch my hair a few minutes later and find it completely drenched. It was quite unpleasant.

Since everyone else was enjoying Champagne toasts, I decided one was in order for us as well, so we found a vendor on the street that was selling it and bought a bottle. Now I have to set something straight - this whole time I've been writing, I have been calling the popular drink of that night Champagne. However, Champagne is from France. Here in Italy, Italians drink a similar drink, but it is not called Champagne because it is not from Champagne, France. Instead, it's called Spumante, although it tastes pretty much exactly like Champagne to me. That being said, we got a bottle and split it between the six of us, toasting off to the new year. They let me be the one to open it :)

After our toast and a fantastic fireworks show, the crowd actually began to clear out, for real this time, and Jess and I looked at our new friends to see what their destination was. They had no plans, and neither did we, so we all decided to be adventurous and have our first experience at a Rome disco. The metro was too crowded to get on, so we sat down on the steps of the Colosseum to wait. While we were waiting, we found out that our new friends are all in their first year of military training in a nearby suburb of Rome. They all had to work early the next morning, so I think they were planning on taking it easy that night. That didn't so much happen. :)

By the time we got to the disco, it was around 2 am, just the time that Italians like to go out at. It wasn't a very big place, but we enjoyed the lights and the music and spent the next few hours dancing away. When we walked out of the disco, I looked at my cell phone and was shocked to see that it was 5:00. At that point, Jess and I weren't sure how we were going to get home, since public transportation shuts down at night, but we figured it wouldn't be too much longer before the metro opened back up again for the morning. Our friends waited with us until they had to leave for their train at 6, and then Jess and I were left waiting indefinitely in the chilly morning light. To keep ourselves occupied in the meantime, we went into a cafe right by the metro station and asked them what time the metro would start up again. To our great disappointment and frustration, we were told it didn't open until 8:30, meaning we had been waiting there the whole time for no reason (mind you we were tired and very much ready for bed by 7:00 in the morning...). We resolved to call a cab, but one of the guys working at the cafe started telling us about a friend or brother or someone that he knew that was on his way back to the cafe and could take us to the Colosseum.

The guy seemed pretty nice and not shady or intimidating, plus we couldn't really figure out what he was trying to say, so Jess and I figured we'd sit and wait for this guy to come. We were told it would be twenty minutes, but I knew that in Italian time that could mean an hour. We really weren't keen on waiting, because we just wanted to go home, but we kind of felt expected to stay after his offer. After 20 minutes of waiting, the guy brought us free water and chips. After 40 minutes of waiting, Jess and I were upset. After 45 minutes, we told the guy we were going home, and he looked at us understandingly and said okay, sure, no problem. UGH. Our biggest fear had been not being able to find a cab and truly not having a way to get home. We walked out of the cafe, saw cab, got in, and were home in ten minutes. We had waited two hours to get home and we had only been a few minutes away.

We were exhausted and tired, but feeling a little bit awake when we got home because of our breakfast, walk, and the sun that was now rising and streaming through the windows. Our plan for New Year's Day was to take the 11:00 train to Orvieto, and considering that it was 7:30 by the time we got home, we knew that meant only two hours of sleep followed by misery for the rest of the day trying to wake up and stay awake. We didn't want to do it. We figured we would feel fresher and more energized if we just skipped the sleep altogether and got on an earlier train to Orvieto. Then we could get to Orvieto, figure out our plans there, and have time to sleep sometime later in the day.

Things never go as planned.

After showering and getting ready, Jess and I left the house 15 minutes before our train was supposed to depart. By this point, I have had more than enough experiences with trains and knew that we would most likely not make it with that little time. We tried anyways. To save time, we got in a cab. We told the cab driver to go as fast as he could to Termini station. As he was driving, we got stuck at a stoplight. At the stoplight, something pressed me to speak of my own experiences and how horrible it is to miss a train by five seconds...the amount of time that is spent at a stoplight or tying your shoe at home or getting out of the car...just enough time to run up to the train and watch the doors close in front of you. And I emphasized how one stoplight like that one can make you miss your train by mere seconds. When we got to the station, Jess paid and I ran out of the car to check our platform. There are over 25 platforms at Termini station. Our platform to Orvieto was... that's right... the same one my train to Foligno always leaves from - the farthest one in the whole station. It is literally so far that it's not even in the station, it's somewhere on the outside of it. I felt the slap of defeat when I looked up at the board and saw the horrible platform's number written next to our train, but I looked at Jess and said with determination, "We've got to run." I've done this run many times before, but never, ever like this time.

We ran. And ran and ran. And it was not a slow run. My backpack was bouncing on my bag, my purse was falling off my shoulder, and the end was nowhere in sight. You see, Jess is in good shape. She actually gets out and goes for a run every now and then. Not me. In fact, I don't think I ran once the entire year of 2010. So throw some heavy luggage on me, zero hours of sleep, and a determined and in shape runner alongside of me, and you've got a miserable and pathetic Sarah. I ran to the point that I thought I could not run anymore, and then I ran some more. My chest was bursting, my legs were burning, I couldn't breathe. And Jess kept jogging on ahead of me. All I could think was, I can't miss this train just because I'm too lazy and too out of shape to run... that's ridiculous! So I ran some more, even though every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. We finally got close enough to the train and I could see a lady next to us run ahead and jump on it. I wanted to scream to her hold the door, but I figured surely she would. I also knew that Jess was close up there next to her and would probably make sure she held it.

But when Jess got to the door, ahead of me, it was closed. I finally reached the door, and we motioned to the woman inside to open it for us, but it was too late. The doors had locked, literally seconds before we got there, and we has missed it. We sat there and watched the train back away from the station and, once more, I got to see my train leave without me.

The next train wasn't for two more hours. It was the train we had originally planned to go on when we were planning on sleeping. Good thing we didn't sleep....

Since we had two hours to kill, we knew we couldn't sit down or we would fall asleep, so we took the metro to Piazza del Popolo and walked from there all around Piazza di Spagna and Via Veneto. It was a nice morning walk. When we finally got back to the station, it felt like it was 2 in the afternoon. It was 10:30.

We said Good Riddance to Rome, hopped on our train (on time) and set our for a quiet and relaxing weekend of Jazz music and good food in Orvieto.

 And the whole time we just kept thinking, "What are we doing???"

Weekend in Rome

Me and Chiara on Friday Night

And yet another exciting weekend! Friday night rolled around, and I was already feeling pretty tired, so I just figured I would stay in and head to bed. But thank goodness for Aurelio and Zoila! We finished up dinner and Aurelio looked at me and said, “It’s Friday night! Aren’t you going out?” Well, I didn’t know where I would go or what I would do, so I hadn’t really considered it, but fortunately Aurelio and Zoila had some good places in mind. As everyone else got ready for bed, I got ready to go out and hit the town, Italian style! I really wasn’t sure what to expect, but I figured I’d at least give it a try. What better chance to meet and get to know some of the young people in Foligno?? Aurelio knows the owner of a really popular wine bar in town, so he took me there and brought me inside to introduce me to some people. I met the owner, although he didn’t speak much English, and one of the bartenders named Chiara. Chiara spoke great English and I spent a lot of time hanging out and talking with her. Apparently she’s quite the social butterfly, so she knew tons of people and introduced me to all of them! Some spoke English, some not so much, but I was happy to not be standing around by myself!

After about an hour, Chiara told me that everyone at the wine bar was leaving to go to a party. She said pretty much all the young people in Foligno would be there, so if I wanted to meet lots of people that would be a great place. I debated whether or not to go but thought, how many chances will I have to go to a big event like this? We headed over to the party and what an experience! This wasn’t like a small party at someone’s house. It was a social gathering at a huge venue with hundreds of people (mostly all from Foligno). There was music by a DJ, art being created on the walls, and awesome decorations – really a neat set-up. From my time there, I learned that Italians aren’t as crazy as Americans or British people when they go out. Most people there were just talking and hanging out. A few were dancing, but overall the atmosphere was pretty chill. Chiara took me from person to person, introducing me to every English-speaking friend she had. All of them had done lots of traveling and have lived abroad (hence why they know English), so we had lots to talk about. For those who didn’t speak English, Chiara just pointed them out and told me who they were, how she knew them, and what everyone thought of them. Because Foligno is such a small town, everybody there already knew each other. I actually recognized some of the people as the students I had seen studying in the library earlier that week. I left a couple hours later, before it got too late, and took a bus home with some of the girls I met.

with some of Chiara's English speaking friends

The next morning, I was supposed to take a train to Rome, but I was so tired I slept in a little too late. When Zoila woke me up, I spent a couple hours frantically trying to plan and put together my trip to Rome, so that I would know exactly where to go, how to get around, and where I was staying. I booked a hostel, figured out the train times, and was on my way to the train station. Two hours later, I arrived in the very wet city of Rome. It was pouring outside so I bought an umbrella from the first vendor I saw. (By the way, never pay 5 Euros for an umbrella from a street vendor… it’ll only last you about five minutes.) I decided to go to my hostel first in order to drop off my backpack. I followed the directions to the hostel just fine, but once I got to the street it was on, I had a really difficult time locating the right number. I eventually found what I thought was it and went upstairs to check in.

Of course, things never work out as you plan, so I attempted to check in, only to find out that my reservation was actually made for the next night. I asked if they could change it to that night. They said there was no room. I tried not to freak out, but was pretty discouraged that I might have to spend my afternoon in Rome trying to find a hostel, in addition to paying double the amount that I anticipated. Fortunately, I think because I look like a helpless little girl, they decided to be very nice and give me a room in another hostel owned by the same company. It was actually the same location I was checking in at, so I didn't have to go far at all. The only downside was that I had originally booked an all female hostel so that I would be able to be in a room with only girls, but the only opening available in the hostel I'd be staying at was co-ed. It turned out to be not bad at all. There were only two other people in there, a couple that I think was backpacking, and they were asleep when I got in the room at night and asleep when I left. The room had bunk beds and was clean enough, and I left in the morning and even got a coupon for a free breakfast at the caffe' across the street.

After I sorted out the hostel mix-up, I headed out into the city to explore and look around. I had planned to take the metro, but when I realized that I didn't have a whole lot of time in the city in the first place, I figured I'd walk and take in as much as I could at once. I wanted to make sure I was able to get to church in the morning without getting lost, so I headed out to locate the church, intending to sight see along the way. I walked for about 30 minutes or so, and finally arrived at what seemed to be a very crowded tourist destination. As I rounded the corner, I stumbled upon an absolutely breathtaking view. My route had taken me right near the Piazza di Spagna, to the very top of the famous Spanish steps that lead down to an incredibly expensive and nice shopping district. The view overlooked the entire city and was accented by a gorgeous, colorful sunset. I got my camera out, took some pictures, and enjoyed the amazing view.

Gorgeous!

The rest of the evening was spent walking. I'm pretty sure I walked for about 3 hours straight. I walked to the location of Rome Baptist Church, I walked to the movie theater to buy my ticket for Harry Potter (in English!!), I walked to McDonald's to eat dinner, I walked through H&M and all the great shops several times, I even walked to Trevi Fountain and threw a coin in. That would be my third time throwing a coin in that fountain. And I'm pretty certain that I've made the same wish every single time. It still has yet to come true.

And don't worry! I definitely got some gelato! It's not quite as silly to eat gelato in Rome in the winter. Everyone else there is a tourist too, and what do tourists want in Rome? Pizza and gelato. So I fit right in :) Except maybe it was a little lame to go to McDonald's... but I had a serious craving for some American food. How much more American can you get than that? If I had seen a Starbucks I might have gone there, but surprisingly, there are NO Starbucks in Rome. I have seen them literally all over the world, in pretty much every major city I've been to, but I didn't see a single one in Rome! So weird, and so sad!

Walking on Via del Corso

After all that walking, I was totally beat, and I very gladly went to sit down in the movie theater. Harry Potter was great. The theater was packed, and there were tons of Americans and English speaking people all around. It would have been really nice to have met some people and hung out with them, but it didn't happen.

This is what I've learned about traveling by yourself. It is amazing and it sucks all at the same time. It was absolutely incredible to be on my own schedule. I could go wherever I wanted, any direction I wanted, any destination I wanted, on my own time, as fast or as quick as I wanted, without a single other opinion to conflict with mine. It was quite a freeing feeling. I loved it. Yet at the same time, doing whatever you want on your own is only fun for so long. By the time the movie got out, I was incredibly lonely. I was doing so many fun things, but I know they would have been so much more fun if I had someone else to enjoy them with.

Harry Potter was great, but it was a kind of a dark movie, which wasn't helpful for me right before I had to walk around in an unfamiliar city by myself at night. On my way back to my hostel, I was hurrying through the streets when I looked up at a building next to me and noticed that it was an absolutely beautiful hotel. I was outside in the cold, in the dark, and could hear peaceful piano music floating out from inside where there was an amazing lobby with cozy, warm, and beautiful atmosphere. It was totally calling me. I didn't even have to think about and walked right inside. I sat down on a comfy couch, listened to the calming jazz piano, and appreciated the ornate decorations. It was bliss. I ordered a cup of tea, and they brought me an entire tray of cookies to accompany the whole pot of tea that I got. I didn't even want to know how much it was going to cost, but I knew that the whole experience was totally worth it.

While I was sitting there, I was joined by some unexpected company. A man about 80 years old walked up to me and asked if I was all alone. I offered him some cookies since I had way more than I'd ever eat, and he sat down and we began to talk. Well, we attempted to talk. He kept asking me questions, but considering the fact that he is almost completely deaf, he could not understand me at all. Every time he asked me a question I had to repeat my answer five times, not before he would get it, but before I would give up trying to get him to understand. The conversation went something like this:

Old Man: So how far are you from the place you're staying?
Me: (After repeating myself three times) Oh I don't know. A little ways. (I really didn't know. But even if I had, I wasn't about to tell some random man where I was staying)
Old Man: Well that's nice. It's too bad you're not staying at the hotel I'm at. It's quite lovely. There's a shuttle service right to the front door.
Me: Awkward smile
Old Man: So how far did you travel to come to Rome?
Me: A few hours (again, why would I give him my exact whereabouts?)
Old Man: And how old are the children you watch?
Me: Three and six
Old Man: Oh there's three children?
Me: No, two. A three year old boy and six year old girl.
Old Man: Oh how lovely, three boys. How old are they?
Me: No answer
Old Man: Hmm... that must be the head waiter over there. I think it's... no maybe it's the other waiter. No that's the one, he's the head one.
Me: Sipping tea....

And, Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.

Yes, that's right. We had the EXACT same conversation FIVE times. He would ask me all those questions, pause for a moment, and then start all over again. I do believe he asked how far my hostel was from where we were about umm.... EIGHT times. I am not exaggerating. Really. So it's true... short term memory loss actually does happen! I experienced it firsthand!

The next morning I got up and checked out of the hostel before heading to church. I attended Rome Baptist Church, a place I found online when I typed in "Baptist churches in Rome." Let me tell you... the list is short. RBC is it. It may even be the only Protestant church in Rome. So I went, and it was so refreshing to be able to worship with English speaking, Christ-loving people. I went to Biblestudy at 9:30 before the main service and found it quite interesting what the topic was: why church is important. We read from Acts 2 and talked about how church is more than an event. It's a group of people. The important of going to church is not just to learn about God, but to be able to have community and to fellowship with other believers. That is why just watching sermons online while I'm in Italy is not going to cut it. That's not why my heart craves to go to church. I yearn for this type of community, this interaction with other believers - teaching, having fellowship, eating together, praying, and praising God together, just as it describes in Acts 2. And God is so good. I found exactly that while I was at the church.

The church was a little more traditional than maybe I would prefer, but how wonderful it felt to sing alongside other Christians and say Blessed Be the Name of the Lord, in another country, in a different time zone, with people around me from all over the world. It was absolutely beautiful. And just in the short time I was there, I connected with dozens of people that offered to let me stay with them the next time I'm in Rome or that wanted to hang out whenever we get a chance. I found one group of people that looked about my age and walked up and introduced myself. Turns out, two of the girls are actually au pairs in Rome and are planning to stay for about another year. I was thrilled, because most people I meet at this time are heading back to the States in just a couple weeks since they're on a semester schedule. Here, I not only found girls that are my age and that can totally relate to what I am doing right now, but I also have the assurance that they will be around the whole time I'm over here. It was really enjoyable getting to talk to them and hear about their own nannying experiences. It was the first time I've had any sort of connection or contact with other au pairs so I loved being able to share stories with people who could really understand. We ended up hanging out all afternoon on Sunday. They showed me around Rome to some of their favorite spots, and we got lunch and gelato. I don't know if I'll be able to go to Rome every weekend, but as long as I do, I now have friends to hang out with and stay with there! What a wonderful blessing God has given me!

Madeleine and Jess, the au pair girls I met

exploring Rome with my new friends!