The Effects of Time

I can’t believe there are only two weeks left. I don’t know what I am going to do when I leave this city, these people, the language. There will be no more wild hand gestures on the street (and yes, I am discounting the man suffering from schizophrenia seen on the streets of new york), and there will be no moreĀ  strange Italian words like “boh,” which means “I don’t know.” Most importantly though, there will be no more Laboratorio, no more Mensa dei Poveri, and no more Elementary schools to occupy my time in. I have volunteered at these places for a total of three months now, and it is unnerving that this time can be ripped away from me so easily. Is it all over when I go home? Am I going back to the real world and leaving the fantasy life of Siena in the dust? I hope not. My friend and I have already started planning our visit back- but there is always that little issue of money that stops me from being sure of my future here. I know that I will come back- I know that I cannot leave this place behind for good- but I also know that the connections one makes in four months are largely just starting to become tight bonds and therefore can easily be broken. Will I continue to speak with the Italian friends I have met with any sort of consistency? There are obviously a lot of rhetorical questions to be asked here.

On the brighter side, I am now determined to make the most of my time here- (as the ephemeral reality of my stay in Italy has finally been put into perspective). Not that I didn’t “make my time” before, but now It’s incredibly easy to identify what is most important to me: namely volunteering and building on my relationships- and therefore, more easy to also dedicate myself almost exclusively to those things.

Wish me luck.

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