Head Over Heels
Some say that love is rare, that true love is something one experiences only a few times in life. My experience at UNISG over the past four months, however, seems to be proving that theory wrong. I have found myself head over heels in love more times than I can count. I’ve got to say I didn’t expect it at all coming into this program, but now that love has decided to cross my path time and time again I could not be happier.
Just imagine a place where mountain upon green mountain is stacked one right after the other for as far as the eye can see, where cows roam the hillsides guided by one lonely, long-haired shepherd and his dog, where wildflowers of vibrant yellows, soft lilacs, and a veritable rainbow of other hues blanket the hillsides, where pines, birches and beech trees shade nearly every inch of the valley below, where the sound of trickling streams and cooing brooks soothe your every nerve and a delicate breeze caresses the back of your neck, as you hike your way up a winding path that brings you, seemingly fortuitously, to an isolated cheese hut in the-middle-of-nowhere Friuli. Just imagine. It was my heaven on earth, and I found myself falling…immediately…in love.
Now picture this, late on a Monday night, in the heart of a small city in Crete. Summer has just begun, the sky is clear as clear can be, and the stars are out in full force. We have just had an amazing, 12-course meal in a small, family-run taverna, followed by a hypnotizing performance of traditional Cretan music by three Greek gods of men. We end up, under the wise tutelage of one Aspasia, at a place that, it turns out, is half pottery studio, half bar-garden-performance venue. As you enter, every which way you look there are plates of various shapes, sizes, designs, patterns and colors, displayed in delicately arched alcoves. This entry leads into the workshop area, a bit disheveled, a bit unkempt, but with the tell-tale signs of human creativity at work. Continuing blindly down the hallway, in the only direction possible, with not even the smallest inkling of what awaits us, we emerge into a secret garden, a safe haven of sorts. The ground is covered in pebbles that crunch with your every step. The stage, simple and concrete, hosts a traditional Cretan band playing instruments native to the island and led by a vocalist whose voice reaches in and grabs for your heart. The bar itself is small and wooden and lit by lamps that, to my eye, resemble jellyfish. However the bar is a mere side note to the intimately vast garden that spreads out in front of us, swimming with people, tables and chairs, dotted with planters, and exuding a vibe of pure calm and pleasure. The moon is full, the music overflowing with emotion, the scent of the mint in the planters intoxicating. All there was in that moment was the moment itself. Nothing else in the world, in life, mattered or even existed. I had found my peace. I was…once again…in love.
My most recent run-in with love was at the Multicultural Fest that is taking place in a town called Colecchio just outside Parma. It was the embodiment of everything I had been missing here. It was a crowd of people with liberal/hippie/alternative tendencies. It was ethnic food, with a spectrum of spices and flavors, from seven different African countries. It was bongo drums, dancing and capoeira. It was Pisco sours and “poof pants”. It was hours of sitting in and walking barefoot through the grass, under a full moon, and huge linden trees. The inner hippie in me could not have felt freer or more content. Needless to say, I fell…once again…in love.
My encounters with love however are not confined to grandiose, once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Rather, I have experienced the aforementioned love while nursing a glass of good Lagrein surrounded by my three closest friends, while jumping into the ocean fully clothed with not a care in the world, while roaming through the “woods” of Colorno trying (in vain, mind you) to find the perfect spot to go “fishing,” while strolling through Parco Ducale on a clear day, and while people-watching on Via D’Azeglio over a nice aperitivo, to name a few. The truth is that this year is one of a kind, and despite the obvious personal challenges that can come along with such an intense experience, each day is full of moments, people, and places that have the ability to touch your heart…or, at least, mine.