Last Week/First Week

Well, I'm back at home.  Which means that I'm writing on an English keyboard, so please excuse any bizarre punctuation because each time I use an apostrophe I need to search for it.
I left you at the end of my tour, so here's my last week in Italy, and my first week back home.

I got back from traveling completely exhausted, wanting only to sleep for a week or two, but it was not to be!  With my exchange twin about to arrive, my host mom wanted the house ready, which meant that I needed to clear out the closets.  So instead of a relaxing day after a hectic two and a half weeks, I frantically did laundry and started packing up.  It was a bit of a repeat from last September when I was packing to go to Italy.  My host mom would glance into my room, see me distracted by a book or a piece of paper, knee deep in clothing and knick knacks, and promptly say, "What on earth are you doing!?!?!  Look at this place!!"  So it was a little stressful, but by the afternoon I was essentially packed.  One must wonder, however, why nothing seems to fit into the bags you brought them in.  I went to Italy with one 50lb checked bag, and a lot of carry on, and I returned with two checked, and still a lot of carry on.
That evening we went to the country house, enjoying a relaxing day and a half there, before returning to Palermo, to pick up my exchange twin!  We were met by several of her friends at the airport, and we all waited with excitement.  When she did arrive, I was surprised by how normal it felt to be around her, almost like she'd been there the whole time.  It was strange to hear my name from her, though, as she said it without the Italian accent I'd become accustomed to.  (My name from an Italian has the i as more of an ee sound, and the ll's are emphasized.)
It was good that the closets were ready for her when she arrived, as she had brought a lot of clothing home.  As she said, "when I had money to spend on food while traveling, I didn't eat.  I went shopping." (I could be described as the opposite - I ate instead of going shopping.)
My last few days were excellent.  I went to the beach with friends, spent some time with the kids of the house I volunteered at, had a dinner with the other exchange student families, went out for pizza and gelato, bought some last minute souvenirs and gifts, as well as just hung out at home with my host family.  And I was really happy that I didn't have to worry about packing!  My friends and I organized an afternoon together, where they signed my flags, and I ate the largest brioche con gelato of my life.  Well, it was my last Sicilian gelato for a long time, so I went out with a bang - three flavours, whipped cream, smarties, pistachio sauce, cereal.
And then it was time for my last dinner with my host family, afterward exchanging gifts.  I was certainly pretty sad.

 

 Some of the kids I worked with this year.

 

Host family, from left to right: exchange sister, host dad, me, host sister, host mom.

 

Me and my brioche con gelato.  Yes I ate all of it.  I regret nothing.

 

My friends and I.

The next morning I got up prepared for my trip back home.  We left the house at 5am local time, to catch my 6:45 flight to Rome.  A tearful goodbye later, I was on my flight out of Palermo.  I had nearly four hours in Rome, and that ended up being pretty good, as the Rome airport is a bit of a sterilized version of Italy, so it didn't feel like I was leaving Italy on my flight to Philadelphia, because I'd left that behind in Palermo.  In Rome I caught up with Alexis, a girl from Nevada who'd had her exchange in Bari, Puglia.  I was happy to not have to fly on my own. 

 

With my host family in the airport, my face puffy and red from crying.  I'm also sporting the highly popular ill-fitting Rotary shirt.

My flight to Philadelphia was fairly uneventful, though I was shocked at how American it felt.  It sounded different, felt different.  I managed to get a bit of sleep, however, which I was grateful for.  In Philadelphia, Alexis and I were separated as I went through the non-American side for customs (which had a very large line up and caused me a great deal of stress, as my layover wasn't very long), then through security, then I ran through the airport, just in time for my flight.
And then we were stuck there for nearly three hours. On the plane.  So I arrived late into Denver, missing my flight to Spokane.  Alexis and I spent the night in the airport, then I saw her off on her 9:15 flight.  I had been booked for the 3:40 flight, but was hoping for the earlier flight at 11:20, so went to put myself on the standby list.  While waiting at the gate, I told my story to a fellow passenger, and he said "That is ridiculous!  People like you should get priority on the standby list!", and told the flight agent that he'd take the later flight, to free up another space on the earlier one.  It was an amazing reminder of how wonderful people are - if there's anything I've learned this year, it's that people are great.  So I made it on the earlier flight, making it to Spokane by mid day.
I was so happy to see my family again, seeing my sister for the first time in 10 months.  We drove home, where I was able to see many of my friends again.
This last week has been amazing, but at the same time very strange.  I am still feeling the effect of jet lag and my traveling (the first days I was so sore from sleeping on the planes that I couldn't lift things), so I feel tired a lot.  It's so weird to be in a place so familiar, that hasn't seemed to have changed, but then notice little things - a new coffee mug in the cupboard, a  new display in the grocery store.  It feels almost like I haven't been away, and except for some photos, some items, and some memories, I have no proof.
I tell everyone that I haven't changed at all, but I get the response of "Are you kidding?!? You're so different!!".  So I feel confused, a lot.  Sort of like my first weeks in Italy.
But it's really nice to be back.  My friend found me a job here at an Italian restaurant, so I get to practice my Italian, and eat amazing food, and get paid for it.
So that was my ten months in Italy, a beautiful place, with beautiful people, and somewhere I hope to see again.  Thanks for your interest!