COMING HOME...

     It is just a matter of thirty-five days (as I write this) before I return to the Philippines. There are a lot of mixed emotions within me -- an air of both sadness and joy hovers in my midst. And I think this is quite understandable, especially when the feeling comes from a Filipino.

     I become sadder by the day as I count the number of days left of my stay here in Italy. I know I will miss this country so much. I have considered this as my home for the past ten months. And mind you, I have really grown into the life of this wonderful place!

     I am now starting to remember, and count the days...

. . . of the first day I had here (August 5, 2008, to be exact), and how hot it was (not warm, but boiling hot!) when I stepped outside Rome's Fiumicino Aeroporto. The idea of living in Italy did not help at all in easing the impatience I had. It was a disillusionment right on the first day. It was as if a great Italian experience was being negated by bad realities -- with one of the rollers of my heavy luggage-bag having gone to God-knows-wherever, my confused state at the airport because I was being pointed at wrong directions, the priest who was to pick me up being late (only because he also was given wrong directions), and, of both of us communicating as if we were two mute guys speaking in sign language since I spoke perfectly my English while he proudly displayed his proficiency in the Italian language! What an adventure it was for me!

. . . of the first persons I met with in Italy -- an Argentinian, a Korean, a German, a Colombian, a Slovenian and another from Uganda. Why? Where were the Italians? I was in Italy, right? Yes, I saw them in the streets driving lazily along the many roads leading to nowhere... But where are the ones whom I am supposed to stay with to know their country -- their language, their food, their life and culture? Little did I realized that I came in the middle of the summer season when all Italians were on vacation somewhere in the north to cool off, or are hiding inside their own homes not bothering so much to come out (so that others would not find out that they don't have enough to spend for their vacation). Ah, so that was why I came to Italy at a moment when it was "invaded" by foreigners!

. . . of my first attempts to converse. This is the episode of my life here that can be compared to a modern-day "telenovela" with its share of madnesss and sadness, of jeers and tears, and of shame, again and again! After all of these months of formal language school and otherwise, what have I learned of the language? Practically, nothing! What have I spoken? Save for some words and phrases, here and there, you can bestow on me the title, "a shame for Filipinos in Italy." What have I understood? If we were to base it on our grading system in the Philippines, is 70% good enough? In front of my companions, I unburdened myself. I cried to my hearts' content. And I could only wonder, why in my deep desire to speak and understand Italian, I will be coming home with practically a five-year old child's vocabulary and grammar of Italian! Many times, I envy a lot the children who play in our garden here shouting "che gioia!" or "bellissima!" As for me, I think I will forever be contented with these memorized words of "Io non parlo bene l'italiano!" Did I say that right? I don't even know if I did!

. . . of the many trips we did for our monthly "passeggiata" -- Pisa, Florence, Rome, Bologna, Siena, La Verna, Padova, Assisi, Trent, and a "million" other places to die for! I can't just imagine that I'd be in places an ordinary Filipino would simply enjoy in travel books and postcards. I felt the immensity and grandeur of these places...which sometimes brought me to near-tears! Oh, if only I could bring those monumental churches, paintings, sculptures and cobbled roads back to the Philippines! The richness of those sights only led me to say, "thank God, I am here!" What a life! Don't worry, I will not see you in a bad light if you "salivate" over my experence of touring all over the vast Italian landscape!

. . . of being overwhelmed by the vast selection of pizza and pasta that comes before my eyes and mouth day after day! This never fails to fill-up my hungry stomach to the max! This does not include still the daily selection of various meat products, vegetables and fruits that truly satisfy all my senses. Olive oil is so common here that this will put to shame the possible "scandal" in our country of spending too much to buy such kind of oil! Too good is the food here that I think I have totally converted myself to eating pasta for the rest of my life! But come to think of it, I still miss my mother's sinigang and nilaga...

. . . of all the great people, places and experiences of Italy that will be totally embedded in my heart and soul. All of these brought new insights into my life. They made me understood things in ways I never thought I would havehad. I saw things in better perspectives, especially in terms of cultures and ways of living. I would have been more impoverished without this experience!

     But as the old adage goes, "all tings must come to an end." I am beginning the movement of detachment. Hard as it may be, I am readying myself to lose the immensity of Italy . . . and I am sad. Thank God it is not a sadness that is in a negatative form. It is a sadness that says I need to detach myself from what has become the norm of life for these past months, and move on to newer, and perhaps beter things in store for me.

     This is life! Wasn't it that just about a year ago, I moved away from what has been fondly remembered experiences in the Philippines? I also lost those wonderful moments to come here in Italy. I was also sad then and uncertain of what lay ahead. But I was able to conquer a lot -- more so, my very own self!

From sadness to joy!

     I will be back . . . I am going back home . . . soon! And for all I know, this might be the greatest experience of transition in my life. I have always said in front of my companions here that since I have gotten used to the Italian life, going back to the Philippines will be another jump -- from the "known to the unkown," from "certainty to uncertainty," from "white to gray," from "security to insecurity."

What lies ahead? I don't know! I am not even sure of many things. Will I have a new parish? Will I be able to get back to what I have been used to doing? What new realities will I be facing? How will I be able to cope with the changes that I will be confronted with? Sadness. Confusion. Nervousness. Fear. Ah! What strange thoughts!!!

     I am going back and new things are "up ahead" on me! And this is really all that matters.

     Now, I can count the days . . .

. . . when I will see again my family (especially my mom and my cute niece, Isa)! How much I have missed them and would have wanted to embrace them when I got to speak with them even for a short moment (if only we were not prevented by the fact that I was talking to them over the telephone).

. . . when I can get back and see again my friends, parishioners and brother priests. They never failed to remind me that I am coming back still. With their constant updates (with sometimes shocking ones), funny and sarcastic greetings (that made me wonder at times why I ever met them in the first place), stories of all sorts (even those I am not supposed to hear or know), I know I will really be back home with them!
. . . when I can see and enjoy once more the beauty of my country. I have never failed to be proud of our country inspite of the many things that we don't have or lack as compared to the modernity of Europe. The Philippines will forever be my country -- with all its greatness and immensity! How I wish to be back soon to Baguio, Cebu, Boracay, Davao and all the rest of the country which I have learned to love and admire. By the way, whenever one of my companions here would start talking about or show a promotional video of his country, I would immediately counter it with the video of "WOW, Philippines!" That would then silence everyone!

. . . when I can assume again the experiences I left behind in the Philippines -- even with the difficulties and problems that is part of life back home. I don't think I will be able to survive without all these seemingly "ugly" things surrounding my life. But they certainly color my existence! Whatever will come, life already comes in all colors of the rainbow.

. . . when I will come back home. With that reality, I know I can return to the normalcy of life, and with a readiness to face everything -- perhaps even those which I have come to be afraid of.

     This is now what gives me joy! Thanks to a fondly remembered experience of Italy, I will now be able to move ahead to the great frontiers (ah, such a big word!) that awaits me. With all the treasures that I carry in my soul and with much gratitude in my heart, I will be returning home.

     Yes, at home where my heart is!