I can’t believe that this semester is over. I can still remember the first month when I was miserable and wishing I could go back to New York and be with my friends and eat good food and not have people yell, stare and grab at me when I walk down the street. While these wishes still hold true, I have grown to love Ghana and all its funkiness. It wasn’t really until about a month ago that I truly felt acclimated and realized the beauty of being an obruni. Although the attention definitely made me uncomfortable for a while, it also made me break out of my shell and learn to take advantage of the fact I can walk around without any make up, with my unwashed hair on top of my head with crazy fabric tied in it. In fact I really should do this everyday because when will I ever have the opportunity to do this again?
 
Aside from constantly feeling like a celebrity, I’m really going to miss getting to live in a house with my amazing friends and spending a disgusting amount of time together. I’m also going to miss the 100 degree weather (never thought I would say that, but I’m finally used to it) and also all the cheap prices. Or actually, the lack of set prices, and the constant bargaining for things. Also, getting ‘dashed’ gifts from people like my produce lady who ‘dashes’ me three tomatoes every time I buy four from her. O man, and getting the best pineapple and coconuts on the street everyday for like 30 to 70 cents. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to justify a buying a $5 drink at Starbucks when I could feed myself off that for a week in Ghana. I also know I’ll miss people sharing so much. When ever anyone buys food for themselves on a Tro-Tro, they instinctively offer it to everyone around them. This is such a nice thing as it immediately connects people. I totally want to bring this idea to the subways back in New York, but I have a feeling it won’t go over so well.
 
In addition to food sharing skills, I think patience is another quality I picked up in Ghana that I hope to bring back with me to New York. Between 24 hours spent on a sticky, smelly, broken down bus to waiting an hour for a meal, only to find out the waiter had the order wrong, I am confident that I have become a far more tolerant and optimistic person than I was at the being of the semester. I want to also continue to be more globally aware, even if it means placing myself in uncomfortable surroundings in order to discover new people and things. I want to keep being a doer-just because I’m no longer in a foreign country does not mean I don’t have a ton more to discover. This semester had been truly life changing and I know that I will never forget everything I have learned here and all the amazing people I have met. 

image source: photo taken by me of my group of friends chilling at the school yard we always hang out in on one of our last nights

 
In all my time that I’ve spent in Florence, I still don’t know where Beppe Severgnini is coming to these introductory conclusions: “Italians are fascinated by the bella figura… they are obsessed with beauty.” I’ve lived here in Florence for nearly 4 months, and I haven’t met any Italian that is “obsessed” with the beauty of the human figure. Reading Severgnini’s “La Bella Figura,” I see a lot of stereotypical descriptions of Italians that would normally come from somebody who hasn’t lived in Italy. The mentions of women getting pinched by Italians? I haven’t heard of one person getting ‘pinched,’ that’s just some romantic dream ushered in by the swarm of trash British literature about sexually-suppressed English women fantasizing about sensual escapades in Italy. Lots of adjectives in that sentence. Microsoft Word loves to give me green squigglies.
 
I enjoyed Severgnini’s analysis of the typical Italian lifestyle, especially when it clashes with Americanization. With the Italians adapting the American idea of the shopping mall, they confuse its individualized shopping experience with the loud, confusing, bustling social network of open-air markets and piazzas. Yet most of “La Bella Figura” seems to be deprecating towards Italians—yet, interestingly, I share a similar negative attitude towards most Florentines, who seem to be closed-minded, hostile, and passively aggressive. It’s like nobody has ever showed these people what it’s like to really work for a living—they just all seem to be angry that they’re living in a country that barely functions, and does so with almost no efficiency.
 
I wonder if Beppe Severgnini has any insight into the Italian political situation of today. Ashley and I have had several discussions with Italians about politics, and I have not heard one person in support of Berlusconi’s governance. Everything I’ve heard is negative. It makes me so upset that such a beautiful country is so backwards and neglected.
 
When Goethe spoke of Italy in “Italian Journey,” he did so with a wholesome reverence that touted its rustic authenticity. Goethe called Italy a “cradle of Man, a mother of civilization.” Interestingly, the people that Goethe encounters seem to be very much like the same ones Severgnini describes—peasant-like, loud, and volatile, although not so boisterous and aggressive as the latter describes (I attribute that to modern influences).
 
When one goes deeper into the Italian countryside, far removed from the political turmoil caused by this joke of a government, I would hope that one would find that wholesomeness and rusticity mentioned by Goethe, back when Italy was still largely referred to by its once-powerful city states. By far, Venice was the only city most removed from any negative political feel--it still seemed that it was its own state, the Republic of Venice, and it's this city that gives me the closest feeling of the rustic Italian reknown so frequently mentioned in literature.

 

A couple days ago, my friend and I realized that nobody here stares at us anymore.  When we first arrived in Berlin, it seemed like everybody would watch us wherever we went; even if we were alone, it was like the people could tell just by looking at us that we weren't normal Germans.  As far as I could tell I wasn't doing anything to stand out, but there was definitely a vibe that they knew I didn't belong here.  

 

I don't get that vibe anymore.  Either I don't attract attention as an outsider anymore, or I just don't notice the staring anymore.  One way or the other, I have adapted to life in Germany.  There are so many things that I am going to miss from this semester.  My apartment has been fantastic, even if the internet connection has sometimes been practically third-world.  I'm going to miss speaking German in class and out in the city; there's a certain sense of accomplishment that comes from ordering lunch or having a conversation on the subway completely in a foreign language.  I'm going to miss the bratwursts in Alexanderplatz and the crepe man on Friedrichstraße.  

 

I'm going to miss the city itself too, even if it is unreasonably cold and covered in dirty snow.  I'm going to miss seeing the Berliner Dom and Brandenburg Gate (pictured here in all its Christmas glory) and the Park Inn during my daily travels.  I know that for at least a week I'm going to step outside and look for the Fernsehturm to be towering over the rooftops of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, only to see an empty sky.

 

As is the case every time I get ready to leave a place for good, I'm getting sentimental for all the little things that I do here, many of which I just listed.  It reminds me of de Botton's chapter "On Habit," where he describes how adventures can be had even without traveling across the world if we just pay special attention to our surroundings.  I hope that I will take this attitude home with me so that I can truly appreciate being in Lancaster for the winter break, London next semester, and eventually New York City when I finally return to Washington Square.  My time with NYU is taking me to so many amazing places and this class, especially the readings from de Botton, has helped me to be better aware of my expectations and the reality of my experiences so that hopefully these adventures won't pass by so quickly or routinely as they might have otherwise.  Blogging my time in Berlin has certainly helped me to see it with a fresh perspective almost every week, so I am absolutely happy that I signed up for the Art of Travel course.  

 

It will be interesting to go home and find out how exactly I have adapted to German life.  Maybe I behave differently, maybe I perceive other people differently.  I kind of hope that it's a little of both.  This semester is going to stay with me for a long time, and it would be fantastic to go home and realize that I have changed for the better.  Next semester, I'm studying at NYU London, so I can approach my second semester abroad with experience and a special perspective.  I hope to apply the things that I've learned in Berlin and through this course to my time in London, especially the appreciation of the little things that I experience every day.  It's a good lesson to take forward to other experiences, at home or abroad, and probably the most important idea that I'm going to take away from The Art of Travel.  

Every experience can be special with the right attitude.  Now I just have to remind myself of that while I board my plane on Tuesday and fly away from this city I love...

 
NYU got off to the right start by having such a beautiful campus here in Florence; it was truly a treat getting to see such a stunning villa every weekday.
 
The most rewarding aspect of this trip? Seeing more of the world, maybe? I’ve never been to any other country but Mexico (Tijuana, doesn’t really count), and it was such a strange assimilation, putting together everything I had imagined with the reality of it all. I always had an image of Italy in my mind, and finally putting it together with the real thing was definitely jarring. I don’t think literally seeing Italy was actually my most rewarding aspect, but it definitely was one of the most educational experiences of my life so far. I’ve seen and experienced more of the world than I mentally can comprehend, and that’s a very important thing.
 
Spending time with my girlfriend was probably the most important part of this trip to me. Italy was my time to experience something completely new, and share that experience with another. This trip has been the independence of a free man, coupled with the responsibility of one tasked to take care of another. It’s been quite a ride.
 
One thing I lacked this trip was my ability to really organize and plan my days in any efficient manner whatsoever—even days that were slated to be “free days” were sometimes squandered or poorly planned because of my incompetence for taking action. My habit for procrastination got worse as  I lived abroad because I believe that, since I’m leaving soon, I can leave a path of unhandled, unorganized, unfinished shit in my wake that will all be wiped away once I return to my cozy home in America. I wonder if that’s the way mot people feel? Are they as disorganized as me?
 
What was one really big thing I learned? Ah yes, a lesson I learned while watching The Matrix one Sunday morning in Rome (we decided to watch movies instead of go and see the Pope give Mass). I discovered the potential for the question “Why?” Probably the best question you can ask yourself, as it pierces the very heart of your existence as a human being. You commit actions, with or without thinking, and then you question your own behavior. “Why? Why did my being do this action?”  Not really related to Italy, but it did happen while abroad. Guess that counts for something. Right?

If I had actually grown this semester, as I proclaimed I would in my first blog post, then this situation would not have happened. These posts woud have been done earlier, my writing would be more informative, my words more wise. I accomplished nothing I set out to do. I didn't solidify what I wanted to do, I didn't lead a tour group, I didn't become more responsible. I became more dependent on money. I became incredibly lazy and procrastinating. I've become hopeless. I've been waiting for oblivion, for travelling abroad to end, I've been waiting to return to my home, my womb, my cave, my temple of brooding. Maybe not so dramatic, but you get the point.

If I had to keep a journal of my time abroad again, I would do it in a way that it was always worth reading. I would chronicle my changes, my constant questioning "Why?" of myself. I did not do that this time around. Maybe next time. Always maybe next time.

It's been beautiful staying here in Florence. From the first morning I woke here with my girlfriend, it's been the greatest vacation I have ever had in my life. We've lived lives in this 4 month period. We've fought in the streets, drank too much wine, ran down cobblestone streets at night, eaten keilbasa at international markets, toasted under the moonlight, toured exotic islands, swam in crystal blue oceans, visited ancient ruins, and been exposed to more types of people from different walks of life than I've ever encountered. It's been a mosaic of the modern world, all here for the same purpose--to vacation, to have fun, to enjoy what we've been given (or rather, what we've taken). To hell with change. I've had a fantastic time and I will never forget any of it. Change? I've changed more than I even know. And that's when you know that you've really got something going on. At least, I'd like to think so.