By the time I got to Rome I had been up for about 24 hours. I don't know why I didn't sleep on the planes, I just stayed up watching movies and House. I saw The Soloist for the first time which was borderline disappointing. At the Rome airport one of the program interns gave me a packet which explained what to do once I got to my apartment and then I split a cab with this boy named Avatar who lives a few km away. I recognized my street from Google Maps but all the apartments kind of looked the same. The cab driver dropped me off (after he told me my Italian was very good) and pressed the buzzer to have someone let me in but nobody responded so I figured my roommates were just out to dinner or something. Finally someone came out of the building and I lugged my 100lbs of luggage inside and up the world's tiniest elevator to my floor. I rang and rang the doorbell but no one answered. I saw on the paper I was given a number to my Italian Student Companion but of course my dad had already turned off my service so I couldn't call a soul. That's when the "What the fuck do I do now?" (excuse me) switch turned on in my head and I sat on my bags for about 5 minutes trying to come up with a game plan.
I then decided to schlep my bags back in the tiny elevator (Thank God for the elevator in all its minuteness) and go back down the empty lobby. I threw my bags in the corner with the intention of walking outside but then I remembered I had no key. Luckily, I saw a girl about my age leaving the building and I didn't know what to say or how she could help me but I figured it was my only chance to ask someone for anything. "UHHH scusa, hai una telefona posso usare?" I don't even know how that came out so fluently but the girl looked at me and said "Si" all confused. When I looked back at the paper with the number on it my heart sank yet again because all I saw was a strew of numbers and symbols and had no idea which digits I actually had to dial so then my instincts kicked back in. I just handed this girl the paper thinking she would understand it. Then she pointed at the address and said something to me in Italian I didn't understand but I figured since she was leading me outside and her mom was following us with my bags that I obviously was at the wrong address.
In all my retardedness I thanked the girl and her mother profusely and the buzz at my actual residence worked. My roommate Camie let me in the front door and this guy and his wife/girlfriend/ mother/ I have no idea because I didn't see her face helped me load my bags in the identical tiny ass elevator not to mention with two extra people plus their groceries. I can't even begin to explain how small the elevators here are. At the elevator in my building you can only press one floor at a time (so if I press 7 before 5 it takes you to 7 first) and even though the floor is the last one, on the top, they let me go first and helped me unload my bags. Obviously they could sense my idiot side. I hope I don't give Americans a bad rep although I'm sure plenty who've come before me have already completed that task. Proud to confirm it. Anyway, I arrived, we met the other students who live in the area and our Italian Student Companion (ISC) cooked dinner for the 14 girls who live in Pratti at our apartment that night which was really fabulous. That's my arrival story. It's one for the books. I see the girl around every couple of days and I'm so embarrassed to say ciao to her.
I have a million other things to write about but this is enough for today. My train to Florence leaves at 6am tomorrow so that'll be interesting. I'm going to dinner in about an hour with my roommates but obviously we'll be staying in tonight because they're going to a small island by Capri at the same time tomorrow morning as well. It's good because we've practically gone out every night since we've been here (que the stories). I'll blog more often now that I have reliable internet.
Ciao a tutti. A presto...
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