I got to wander the streets of downtown Bari. When I say wander, I truly mean wander...and it was wonderful. Melissa and I took the train from Torre a Mare to downtown Bari, which took about 15 minutes. We spent the afternoon walking along a street lined with shops. There was everything from high end places like Hermes and Louis Vuitton to little stores with bathing suits that looked like they might fall apart after the first wash. The buildings were beautiful...they all seemed to have different styles that somehow still blended together. The wrought iron balconies paired with the ornate columns made it feel like Bourbon Street and Rodeo Drive all in one place. I got to experience Zara for the first time, a 3-level store which I guess is huge deal here. It reminded me of a higher quality Forever 21...so I'll definitely be going back.
At the end of this shopping street was old town Bari, an area that truly feels like every stereotype of Italy. I wish there were words to adequately describe the feeling of amazement I had while wandering the mazes of these narrow cobble-stone streets. There were stores with homemade goods set up outside, restaurants with carefully placed tablecloths and homes with laundry drying outside on clotheslines all mixed into the mass of doorways lining the streets. Most of the doors to the homes were just curtains and the soft breeze revealed trays of homemade pasta drying and kids playing inside. Again, no one spoke English. I loved it because it only reinforced where I was. For some reason, that song "Deep in the Heart of Texas" was stuck in my head...only I substituted "Italy" for "Texas" on that line, despite the mismatch of syllables. I felt like I was a million years away from my home, but it only gave me more of that sense of wonder instead of anxiety. It felt weird that my world at home could exist while this world existed too. It sounds stupid....but it really made all of the little things that have been troubling me and worrying me seem so trivial. Why did I care about any of that when I had these narrow winding streets to wander?
I keep using that word...wander. It really is the only word that fits though. I had no sense of time, no sense of direction, and no cell service...and not enough working knowledge of Italian to ask if I needed to. I still depend on Google Translate too much. The streets were winding and intersected at strange angles and sometimes they lead to dead ends. But it didn't matter. I was busy wandering. If I came to a cross street that looked cute or interesting, I turned. It didn't matter where it went, it was going to lead me to where I was going. I have always love the quote by J.R. Tolkien (author of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Hobbit for those non-nerds out there) that says "Not all those who wander are lost." I had the quote tooled into a leather luggage tag from Etsy years ago, but the tag was lost with the broken strap of my suitcase. But I suddenly found a new appreciation for the term "wanderlust" and that quote. I was wandering aimlessly but I wasn't lost. I was exactly where I was supposed to be....and the peace that you get from feeling like you are where you're supposed to be (even if you have no idea where it is on a map) is priceless. I haven't had that sort of peace of mind in a very long time. Again, the Lord proves that He knows what He is doing and that He will lead me if I will shut up and follow. His plan is greater than mine, and I am lucky to have these little reminders. So I just took as many pictures as I could even though they never do it justice...but it's nice to be excited about something.
They eat dinner so late here. I don't think I've had dinner before 9pm here....and the restaurants don't open until around 8 for dinner. So we stopped around 5-6 (true happy hour/appetizer time) for something to hold us over, got way too full off the amazing bruschetta, and never had dinner. Don't worry, we had gelato twice. And the second time was with wine. I plan on that second place becoming my new Winslow's. (Also, Winslow's....you need gelato. It goes well with wine.)
Now, I add this last part just because it is all part of the experience. My host "mom" had given me the afternoon off, which is how I ended up on this wonderful gelato-filled wander-hike. However, she just couldn't cut that cord completely....she called me at 3, 6, and 9. I missed the call at 9 and called her back within 5 minutes but she was already freaking out. I told her I would take the next train home which left a little after 10. I got home around 10:30. She flipped out. I'm not sure if she thought 10:30 was too late or if she was upset that I missed her call or if she was just uncomfortable with me exploring, but she was NOT happy. She told me that that's just how she is because with her kids and her guests because she is a mother. I tried to reassure her that I am okay figuring things out on my own and that I appreciated the concern but she didn't need to worry that much. I tried to joke a little (probably a bad idea) and tell her that I already have a mother who is concerned enough about me for everyone....she didn't get the humor. Then she couldn't understand why I wouldn't call my mother and let her know what I was doing every time I was out...I don't even know how we got the that topic. I didn't even know what to say about that. I'm 27 years old...if I called my mother every three hours to tell her exactly what I was doing, she would stop answering the phone. I am very close with my mom, but we have way more important things to exchange than an ongoing commentary of my day. I apologized, blamed it on cultural differences and promised to be more clear about plans and expectations in the future.
So, of course I immediately wrote my real mom an annoyed text message venting about the whole situation and my frustrations with my "new mom." I asked her to pray for patience for me, because Lord knows I need it right now. She had the best wise-mama response I have ever heard. She of course reminded me to be respectful and to adapt since I am here to experience the culture anyways...and then told me that she would not be praying for patience for me. The reason? "I'm praying for wisdom instead...if I pray for patience then the Lord will be able to test you on it."
I am now praying that I have her kind of wisdom someday. She's the best.
So, of course I immediately wrote my real mom an annoyed text message venting about the whole situation and my frustrations with my "new mom." I asked her to pray for patience for me, because Lord knows I need it right now. She had the best wise-mama response I have ever heard. She of course reminded me to be respectful and to adapt since I am here to experience the culture anyways...and then told me that she would not be praying for patience for me. The reason? "I'm praying for wisdom instead...if I pray for patience then the Lord will be able to test you on it."
I am now praying that I have her kind of wisdom someday. She's the best.