Mi Manca l'Italia...

I was listening to Rascal Flatts the other day and it reminded me of my summer in Italy.
There's a lot going on in my mind and I'm sorting through some stuff right now, and some of it hurts.
I remember watching the movie Bewitched (cheesy, I know, but hey, it starred Will Ferrell...), and near the end Samantha's dad advises her to "go home" to sort through the stuff that was going on in her life. She was, well, a witch, and reminded her father that she didn't have one. He then told her to go to the place where she was ever felt the most happy.
Not a lot about that flic actually made me think, but that comment did. I realized that after the summer that I spent at the Mulino camp in Caserta, Italy near Naples, going back to Italy will always feel a little bit like going home.
There was a lot about that summer and about being in Italy that was difficult that summer, but overall I never felt more alive than when I was there and with my Italian friends and "family". I was so happy in Italy. By the end of the summer I was ready to sell everything and stay. I almost did. But I finished school instead.
I went there with my aunt and uncle and five of their kids (and a couple of extras) for three months to repair and fix up Il Vecchio Mulino--a summer camp that was flooded that May before we got there. We worked with a couple of Italian churches with which the camp was affiliated and helped with a big international (American/Italian) festival that happened near the end of the summer.
I went to help with the manual labor at the camp and translate. I loved it. My Italian wasn't spectacular when I went, but I learned so much while I was there and never tired of speaking it. I still light up whenever I get the opportunity to converse in it, which is not often.
One of my other duties was to do the dishes for the family everyday, twice a day, by hand. I actually liked it. And everyday, for every meal we would eat out on the patio and listen to country music during the meal. Then, I would do the dishes and listen to Rascal Flatts.
"Fast Cars and Freedom" unfailingly, every time I hear it immediately transports me to the huge kitchen in the Mulino, singing with my aunt and cousin Hannah and enjoying the beautiful Italian summer weather. I was listening to it the other day, and I began to think about Italy. And I haven't stopped thinking about it for the last couple of days.
I guess it's because I'm going through a transition time in life not being in school and wondering what the next adventure is and everything that makes me think back to that time when I was the "most happy" and think back to a place that would be "home" apart from the home in which I grew up. It's a way of wanting to escape difficulty perhaps, I don't know. But, I began to realize once more how much I loved and miss Italy. I began to think of all the things that I miss about it. I can't wait to go back. The following is a list of a number of things I miss about the place.

I miss:

-Simona, Serena, Erica, Roberta, and all of the girls that let me into their lives while I was there.
-All of their families, and more.
-The dumb red chairs at the Casoria church that we had to install on the hottest day of the summer.
-Waiting up until Midnight with my cousin to see the Mafia drive by everynight, and falling asleep to chick flic DVDs.
-Doing the dishes to Rascal Flatts and Lonestar everyday.
-Water fights with Simona.
-Wading chest deep in the creek to clean it out and freaking out whenever we'd see a watersnake.
-The Pund's, the American family that lived full-time at the Mulino.
-The ivy and other greenery that climbed the walls of the 1000 year old building that we lived in.
-Yelling at the neighbor kids in Italian.
-Hanging out on the roof.
-Cramming 11+ bodies in a 9 passenger van.
-Gelato
-Living next door to a Pizzeria.
-Pizza Margherita
-Marco Gemma, the Italian kid that lived with us for a month at the Mulino.
-Playing soccer with the Italians.
-Pasta.
-Singing in church in Italian.
-Caffè all of the time.
-Sleepovers with my Italian girls.
-Peaches and Wine.
-Watching my uncle pause and belt out "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman" while working.
-Laughing and laughing and laughing with my cousins (esp. Hannah and Billy....)
-Being dragged all over the place to translate something.
-Sweeping the dusty Mulino ALL THE TIME.
-My cousins making a formation around me and Hannah so the Italian boys couldn't check us out.
-The fresh fruit and hard bread.
-Talks about God with my Italian girls and Cecily Pund. Amazing.
-The passion that I encountered in just about everyone there.
-Heating arguments in Italian.
-My Italian hairdresser. ;-P
-Gaudy jewelry that I would never wear here.
-My Italian tan.
-Pushy street vendors and friday markets.
-The smell of downtown Naples.
-Public transportation in Rome and all the toll booths on the "free"ways.
-Ipercoop.
-Italian potlucks. Mamma Mia!
-Saying "Mamma Mia" all the time.
-Kissing people on the cheek to say hello (most of the time...).
-Day trips on the weekends to Sorrento.
-Getting sick of going to Rome.
-Helping the Pund girls with their homeschool work.
-The Mulino. Everything about it.

I was talking to my aunt the other day about that summer. I think we all miss it. I hope I can go back and live there someday, maybe even at the Mulino. I miss Italy. Or, better put: "Come mi manca l'Italia!!" I can't wait to go "home". Ci ho lasciato il mio cuore in tutto.

-T. Emerson