“Primo giorno in Italia”
My first day in Italy was one I will never forget, I ensured to capture every moment through photos and memory recognition. I recall everything from the anxiety in the airport to the unpacking within my little room. I remember the excitement I felt to see my first location in Italy with my host parents Guia and Sergio. They brought me through these windy roads with a beautiful view of the entire town of Merate, and Lomagna. I was stoked to see these beautiful sites and be part of the cobblestone nature. My host mom told me stories of her and her friend running up and down these long, steep beautiful stairs surrounded by tall trees that led to a church at the top of this little hill. We proceeded to rise these 180 steps together to arrive at the top and see the sunset. My host father had his camera and helped me pronounce “tramonto”, sunset, while my host mother was ensuring my warmth and security. The sky was beautiful, the sun set perfectly on the right side of the little church on the top of the hill. That night I wrote my giorno 1 post on instagram and headed off to bed.
Fast forward a few weeks and I was hiking at the same little mountain at a little cabin-like venue for a rotary BBQ. A month later I was on a bus to Rimini, the town where they fell in love and where my little international group was formed.
“Giorno 273 in Italia”
It was my last month in Italy, I had already learned the language, and how to cook and I even made what felt like a million friends. I was back in Rimini, only this time I was sharing a bed with my new host mother, Sara, to watch my host sister, Martis’, basketball tournament. I needed to support her, she was a true sister. I loved her more than anything, that family taught me that home can be a safe place, the desire to be with family exists and the desire to talk about everything and just laugh for hours at the dinner table was possible. A few days before I left I hosted a going away party at the same little cabin-like venue with the hiking trails. The weather was supposed to be horrible, but it was truly magnificent. I slept using my American and Italian flag as my blankets that night and spent hours preparing to say goodbye to all of my loved ones for the last time.
“Giorno 303 in Italia”
This is my last day, my last breath, my last hug, my last view of Italy. The only thing I requested of my host family that morning was if I could see the sunrise at Montevecchia, the little hill where I saw the sunset on my very first night. They granted my wish, the entirety of the family along with my two cousins came with me to see the sunrise. At this point I already knew how to say sunrise in italian, alba, it flowed off my tongue as I have already experienced this little life for so many months.
On the way to the top of the mountain, the car drove through the winding roads that faced out to see the city in which I lived, I saw the lights of the houses, the cobblestone roads, the highway I would walk on for groceries, the little bakery I would get chocolate from, and the mountains my host dad always forced me to recognize. I was able to reflect on the emotions that were felt in this town, the heart breaks, the friendships, the laughs, the silly little noises and scary trees at night. I was able to shed my tears with those I loved as they held me at 4am on the little drive up the hill.
As we approached the 180 stairs, my host mom took many pictures. I was wearing my host sister’s outfit, and my host sister was wearing my shirt that I signed for her to keep forever. We made silly little tik toks to the latino dances we had made. We would stick our head through the tall fence to see over the trees and truly grasp the sunrise. Every step felt heavier as I ran up the stairs to reach the top and embrace this moment. I was so very sad but it was okay. I had just closed the door to my home for the last time and I had just let go of my little life in Italy.
My host cousin grabbed my phone and took this wonderful picture of me and my beautiful family. All of my memories came back, the conversations about Chinese folklore, basketball games with my host mom and sister, coffee dates at grandmas with my sugar and a side of milk with a splash of espresso, and even the movie nights all cuddled up on the couch. Those memories are what bonded us, those 2.5 months were only so long, but the connections we made, the love we have for each other, the voglia di bene for each other had never been stronger. This photo embraces the love we have for each other like a warm hug after months of a cold winter.
They are not just my host family, they are my family, and this little circle of 10 months, just circumfrances the quantity of change I had endured. I am not the same person, but my love and my family is what has changed me. This photo captures the love I have obtained and my new beginning, like the painted sunrise in the back that started a new day of crisp fresh air.
This was written for a project in my English Creative Writing Class in 2026. Your Attractive Heading
WEE MISSS UUUU ❤️❤️❤️