We arrived at Pompeii sometime around 11:00 and got lead around by a hilarious Italian tour guide. It was amazing. I was surprised at how well preserved it all was.
Highlights:
Sleeping dogs, ancient fresco paintings, and the red light district.
An ancient dog preserved from the historic blast of Mt. Vesuvius.
Some pretty neat old ass walls of Pompeii
And of course, the classic landscape.
After Pompeii, we had lunch at a local restaurant, then headed back to Rome. One of the few girls my age in the tour, Krista (from Virginia), invited me to go on a run around the city. Knowing I may never be able to set foot in this town again, I accepted her offer. After packing at the hotel, we got in our jogging clothes and met in the lobby. She was dressed in an entire jogging outfit, which was intimidating. I learned later that she ran cross country in high school, which was even more intimidating. Regardless, we had a nice talk as we ran around the city. People don't jog too often around Rome, so we got a lot of weird stares and comments in Italian. After a circuitous lap around the block, we decided to run up a gigantic set of stairs. It felt great. Now out of breath, we walked to a nearby park and walked around.
Eventually we ran into a group of Italians sitting on the ground drinking beers. Two of the women were doing some weird dancing, and Krista dared me to dance with them. "Why the fuck not?" I thought. I approached the women and asked them if they could teach me how to dance. The whole group turned and looked at me, confused. One of the guys spoke up. "No speak English". Not knowing they were Italian quite yet, I responded with "Habla espanol?" They smiled and shook their heads.
I tried my best to communicate that I wanted to learn how to dance. I knew bailar, but not much more than that. Krista had taken some spanish in high school, so she helped me out in getting my point across. They finally understood. One of the women who had been dancing stood up and began to run me through the steps. It was by no means your typical dance routine. It was pretty weird, to be honest. But I followed her as best I could, and afterwards the group, Krista and I shared a laugh. They were probably laughing at my inferior dance skills, but I didn't mind.
After we finished running through the steps a few more times, we took a break and attempted talking to eachother. After speaking horrible Spanish in vain for a few minutes, one of the guys explained they were all Italian. That sure explained a lot. After having a nice Spanish 1 conversation, we left the park and headed back to the hotel.
After confidently telling Krista I knew the way back, we got utterly lost. I asked two different people for directions, but they were both from other countries. One from England and the other from Scotland. Shows how well I know my cultures. We eventually found an Italian man who pointed us in the right way.
We got back to the hotel sweaty as hell and met up with Krista's mother, who was upset that Krista had taken the only key to their hotel room. I left before it got too awkward, knowing I would probably never see the both of them ever again. Our family made vague plans to have drinks with them later, but it never fell through. And that was that. After showering and putting fresh clothes on, my family got together and had our last Italian meal together. The meal was delicious. I had a bit too much white wine, and topped off my too much white wine with a shot of limoncello.
And now I find myself slightly tipsy, trying to think of what big lesson I learned from this entire trip. Well, in general I learned that being an ignorant American makes you feel like an asshole. To be more specific, I wish I learned a lot more Italian before I left. But there's a much greater understanding I can't quite put into words. An appreciation for something completely Un-American, I suppose. You don't really realize how deeply steeped you are in your own habits and cultural norms until they're put on blast in front of an entire country. You also don't realize how utterly lonely you can feel when you're unable to communicate with ninety percent of the people you run into.
And that's what I look forward to. Being able to connect with another human being. I don't care if it's some homeless hick from Texas. I just want to have a passionate conversation in English.
I want to see my friends. I want to see my girlfriend. And I want to play my damn guitar.
That is all.
And so, I say good afternoon and good night for the last time, America. To the few of you who did, thanks for joining me on this trip. I look forward to seeing your beautiful smiling faces soon.
All my love,
Lucas
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