It all started with,  “Mom I want to go abroad”. 

Hold on a second, abroad in what sense? France, for a month, with a family I’ve never met, during the summer, in a town I’ve never heard of? Canada, for a week, sleeping in a car with another minor, and sleeping at a stranger's house that we met at church, in the outskirts of the city? Italy, for ten months, with three different families, during all seasons, in two towns smaller than the town I grew up in? The world, for my whole life, with strangers I will meet, in places I’ve never seen, outside or maybe inside? Yeah, I wasn’t specific enough I don’t think. 

“I could see you in Brazil” 

“I think you're going to Italy” 

“I had a dream you're going to India”

“Why did you even choose Bolivia”

“I lived in Belgium, it is so pretty and has good food”

Italy 

Pause, breathe, and trust the process… why Italy? 

Okay wait let’s think about it:

The Italian language is similar to the Spanish 

The food is practically pasta and pizza, my favorite foods

It’s warm all year 

The government is kind of similar so there is no weird laws that I’m not used to

My best friend is Italian 

…

Seafood

Mafia 

Super touristy 

If I’m in the north it’s going to be the same as here, maybe I’ll feel as if I never left. 

Wait wait wait let’s talk to some people:

The people are open and nice 

The language is complicated but the people are very helpful 

DISCOS

Easy transportation 

A million and one more reasons why I’m very fortunate to have been chosen for Italy 

All of my negatives practically didn’t even actually exist. Or they aren’t going to affect me.

Okay this will be the best year of my life, I’ll have so much fun, everything’s going to be great, it’s okay. 

AHHH I'M SO EXCITED!!!

I love Italian! It’s so easy, it makes sense, I’m working so hard, I’m counting down the days!!

…

Why is everyone else getting placements and my country has yet to reach out to me?

…

You mean to tell me I have to pay more than what they said before and they gave me less than a month's notice? 
 

…

Oh, and I have a bacterial problem, UTI, AND OVARIAN CYSTS? You're kidding me, right? 
 

…

My boyfriend wants to break up before I go, my paperwork got messed up, I had to quit dancing to afford to go, working my butt off, my mom is mad at me for always working, volunteering, friends, boyfriend, family, learning Italian.
 

…

Where is there time for me…
 

…

I don’t want to go. 

…

One of them I saw in Canada, and we were able to practice our Italian together. The other was an exchange student who was staying with a friend of my mom. With her, I was fortunate enough to see what it’s like to be an exchange student during the first few weeks, the emotions along with the friendships. I was very fortunate to meet the last Italian, she’s in the Rotary program with me, she is so sweet and kind and I’m so glad we were able to hang out before I left. Not only was I fortunate to meet her but through her I met my best friend. Before I arrived she gave me the contact information of the student who will be living in her house, Anto. 

The day before I left I hosted a party with all of my friends and family, we made pasta, painted, had a fire, and played games together. I had a giant sleepover with all the people I love. The next morning was hectic, I wanted to take a shower, but I also wanted Dunkin, however every second with my family and friends was important to me; I didn’t get the Dunkin before the airport. At the airport, I was lucky enough to have my country officer (who is very kind and amazing), the district chair, the protection officer, a very important person who helped with a lot of paperwork, as well as everyone who was at the party. I knew I was loved and I knew that coming back home would not be an option.

Once I stepped on the plane, it was real. However there’s the boyfriend aspect, my friends I knew would be there no matter what, my parents and siblings will have to be there when I come back, but the man who had been there for me every step of this exchange and the only person that has heard and seen every emotion I felt before I left, he could leave me. The hardest goodbye was him, I knew I’d be okay and I knew we would be okay as long as we gave enough effort. So after many internal tears and last hugs, I walked through security with my dad, while holding the “I love you” in sign language at my boyfriend until he couldn’t see me anymore.

I got my Dunkin, my very last Dunkin refresher for ten months. Being with my dad I think was the best thing for both of us, a relationship with a father and daughter is weird, it’s not like he can understand me and my emotions, and gosh forbid me trying to understand half the things he does and believes; he’s still safe for me. Of course, I love my mom, so saying goodbye to her is hard, but we have the same emotions and thoughts, therefore both of us sitting there waiting for me to leave would be full of tears and "I’m not ready". With my dad, it was more of "stay strong, I’m proud, and don’t forget we love you". The moment while waiting to enter the plane was so long that I felt as though I could hear my heartbeat.

The first plane was easy, an hour to JFK next to a travel author and inspirator. We talked for the first 15 minutes about everything, who I am, why I’m doing an exchange, why I had a blazer on, why I chose Italy, everything, she was so kind and understanding, she asked all the right questions to make me feel seen. Then of course I asked her the questions. I was shocked to find out she travels to different countries, lives there for a few months, writes a book, and does some inspirational teaching and social media... sounds familiar.

I hate layovers, not because they are boring or scary, but because it’s a period that feels as though time does not exist and you just have to think. If you're alone it’s scary to sleep, walking around is fun but you have no idea who is there and what they could do to a blonde teenage girl, and not to mention the “forget me not letters” you have to read. I planned to find my next gate, take a stroll, read the letters, and wait. That’s exactly what I did, walking through the airport to find my next gate, I felt as though I was walking the red carpet. I knew no one was watching me but I was accomplishing my dreams alone. However, one man was staring at me, particularly strangely, and he was either following me or entering the same weird stores that I was entering at the same time. At this moment I decided I would call my boyfriend; he answered, wasn’t particularly happy to hear me, but he talked me through my anxieties. 

My dad taught me about the fact that you can enter the plane no matter what, you don’t have to be the first on the plane, therefore I stayed seated as long as possible before I had to let reality set in. While entering the plane I had no idea how to feel. I remember going down slowly and looking out the windows… It was a beautiful day out, sunny, blue, perfect. I was so happy and felt as if I was in the center of the universe. As I entered the plane I remember feeling in shock and not knowing what to think and how to react… from there, it’s a blur. I remember not being able to sleep, trying to read, watch movies, or writing. I talked to my neighbor, he was pretty cool, he travels a lot and just finished school. He decided to go on a trip with his friends to Italy and Switzerland. He didn’t want to sleep on the plane, due to the fact that he had to sleep on the train when he would arrive. Outside of all these blurred memories, the plane was genuinely part of my journey that was so full of emotion that I can’t remember everything. 

Siamo arrivati a Malpensa Italia…

Huh… wait… IM IN ITALY

Okay at this moment there is no anxiety, no rush, no worries… simply just breathing… I wanted to stop to use the bathroom but the line was way too long… It took me 10 minutes just to decide if I wanted to use the bathroom or not, but in the end I had to use it. After going to the bathroom I didn’t exactly know what to do, there was a line that reached the bathrooms, another line with absolutely no one, and the last line that was pretty normal… I had no idea where to go, the shortest line was for minors, I thought “Well I’m a minor that’s where I should go”... I was wrong. Then the long line for non-Europeans, "that’s horrible I do not want to wait in that line as long as California", I did anyway.

 I grabbed my bags and started walking out towards my host parents. I had no idea what to expect. I was so scared and nervous, I didn’t know if the rotary would be there, or if it would just be them. The moment from when I received my bags to the moment I met them, I felt as if I was walking through a sauna as slow as a sloth and not able to hear anything going on around me. I remembered how small the cars were in France so I was worried my suitcases would not fit in the car. I don’t think I breathed through these 2 minutes, it felt as though an eternity. I think that’s them… holy cow holy cow holy cow what do I do… Italian Italian Italian… ciao ciao ciao, come stai, è bella, si si, ho fame, uhhh I have no idea how to speak Italian I’m so scared…