Being soaked to the bone, Aamot conducting us on the spanish steps, throwing my coin into the Trevi Fountain, Ruthie & her luggage, four wonderful men at the Trevi.
I am in Paris! I am sleepy, so I pretend to speak French. I gain confidence when correctly translating an ad about energy, so at the passport counter I tell the man "merci beaucoup" in my best French accent. Mara tells me later that I insult him by not following with "Monsieur."
In my sleepy, half-dream state, everything is funny. Mara teaches Danielle French phrases, which Danielle says while wearing her straw hat with the black ribbon. She says them in a soft, high-pitched voice and we all laugh. Later, we discuss the phrase "universal." Is it cocky to presume that we can control the whole universe with our universal remotes? This won't be funny a week from now, but in our sleep-deprived state we all laugh until tears come to our eyes.
I am on the plane now, sitting near a church group made of of spirited southern men and women. The woman next to me calls me "baby." They pass around spray bottles of holy water and everyone is decorated with religious tokens, pins, and necklaces. They are a lively group, and help to ease some of the stress and crabbiness we all feel setting in from the long flight.
I am ready to be in Italy, but I am taking everything in as I go, the whale-belly airport in Paris, the differences in the houses and buildings I saw when flying, and the attitudes and dispositions of those around me.
I am ready to take off and face this incredible journey ahead of me.
That night: What a crazy day! We can not stop laughing at how unfortunate it is. All of our luggage is lost except Choi's, Ruthie's, and Paul's. We wait in the airport for three hours. We have been traveling for 20, and most of us have gotten less than three hours of sleep. EVERYTHING is funny to me. When we step outside of the airport in Rome it is raining, perfect. We get on the tour bus and head into the city.
We go to the Trevi Fountain, explore a bit on our own, get our first gelatos, get soaked to the bone, and finally go to the Spanish Steps where we sing and a crowd gathers. We finally go back to the hotel, shivering, most of us in the only clothes we have, save for the one-size-fits-all white cotton tees the airline gives us.
When we go down to dinner we look like hobos, dressed in large white tees, scarfing down the only sustenance in sight- bread and water. The meal, our first real meal since Friday night is pasta, french fries(seriously, what could be worse), and of course, and ice cream cup(like the ones we got in 1st grade) for dessert.
By the end of dinner we are all exhausted and a bit disappointed in our first day in this amazing country. Mr. Aamot has us rehearse so we are prepared to sing in St. Peters tomorrow. Finally it is time for bed.
Although it may sound like a lot of whining, this perfectly horrible day was one of the most adventurous, hilarious, and incredible days I've had in a long time, and the optimism of those around me made all the difference.
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