Someone is looking out for me; the plane did, in fact, arrive! Over an hour late, we boarded flight 293 and landed in Dulles at 9. By 9:30 we were looking for our luggage and by 9:45 we were informed that we must all wait in the baggage claim area for at least 2 hours before our bags would arrive. Twelve thirty in the morning American time, (6:30am in my mind), one of my bags arrived. By almost 1am, I marched passed customs with the promise that my second piece of luggage would be mailed over the next few days. After having traveled for 26 hours with another 2 to go, I was frustrated, tired, and a little teary eyed when I collapsed into the arms of my parents and my grandfather.
Practically delerious with exhaustion, we arrived in Richmond around 4am and I took a scalding hot shower before crashing into my bed, giddy to have actually made it home.
Walking around the house today, I'm already struck by the smallest things: sodas, the dishwasher, heat-control, and a TV. I miss the language, my roommates, and the city, but it is good to be home.
My very first blog began with the the true statment that "I'm terrible at goodbyes." Once I am attached to a place, it is difficult for me to change and I know that there will always be a place in my heart for Siena and my little, worn-down, "character-building" Tuscan apartment.
I think that Italians are on to something when they use "ciao" for both "hello" and "goodbye." It means that the "goodbye" is not forever; it promises to "see someone soon." One day I will return to Siena, I'll talk with Simonetta and fill up on tiramisu gelato. But, until I am lucky enough to go back, I'll say "ciao" to both Italy and to the U.S.A. It's true what they say: there's no place like home.
