The Rain

It's funny how being abroad changes you.  Not funny in the sense of "haha" but funny in the sense of how it creeps up on you without you realizing it.  If you were to ask me point blank "Alli, are you different now than when you left?"  My immediate answer would be, no not really.  But just today I already proved myself wrong and really realized... I have changed.

So it's raining in Milan all week... yuck I know... but I have to study for mid terms so this weather couldn't have come at a more appropriate time.  I'm on the way the way to school and the idiot that I am, I'm wearing my Keds.  They're these flimsy white shoes made of canvas and literally THE WORST shoes to wear when it's raining.  I wore them to Venice in the rain; you'd think I'd learn.  Anyway, I'm basically puddle jumping on my way to school-- my shoes and socks are becoming completely soaked-- and I'm just loving it.  Not like "oh wow my shoes are wet.. yay!"  Just accepting.  So I get to school, sit for an entire day (12-6) with wet shoes and socks and I didn't complain once.  Not even in my head.  Not even to Daniel on Skype (who has to listen to all my complaints every day... thanks babe you're the best).  And if you knew me before abroad, THIS WOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED!  An entire day in wet shoes and socks!  I guess with all the traveling, sleeping in hostels, and with this VERY wet spring, I'm just used to dealing with these  kind of situations.  And I love that I'm okay with sitting all day in wet socks.  I mean in all honestly, life could be much much worse.

Well the socks actually weren't what got me thinking, it was the rain on the way home.  I'm waiting for my 15 tram to take me to the metro and the digital time clock pops up saying "15... 9 minutes".  It's a 10 minute walk so I'm thinking "no way am I going to wait 9 minutes when I can walk in 10".  So it's raining, and I'm splashing around, getting my shoes even more water damaged than before, and I realize I don't mind waiting.  I mean I truly DO NOT mind waiting.  I wasn't concerned with how long it would take me to get home.  I could care less that the tram was a 9 minute wait.  I could care less that the walk took me 30 minutes instead of 10 minutes.  And then I started thinking... I don't even care about waiting in a restaurant.  So what if the check takes 30 minutes to come?  And I don't care about waiting for a store to be open either.  I walked past a book store on the way home to buy a blank journal (I'm going to write a story when I'm in Greece for a week... I have the urge to fictionalize this experience) and the store was closed.  And 4 months ago I would have thrown my arms up in the air, put that annoyed look on my face, and thought "THIS FIGURES".  But today, I simply saw it was closed, shrugged, figured I'd go tomorrow or the next day, and went on my merry way.  

So as I'm realizing that I don't mind waiting, I start to question why it bothers everyone so much.  What are we in a hurry for?  What is it that we can't stand about waiting around?  Do we have something better to do?  If we wait 10 extra minutes will we stop ourselves from doing it?  It's hard for me to think so.  Life over here isn't planned; and even if you do plan it, there's so much room for adjustment.  I wish people would realize all the things you can do while you're waiting.  Everyday I read my book (this Mafia book is INTENSE!!! Glad I went to Naples and South Italy before reading this.), I watch people (not creepily, just observingly), and I unwind.  You can spot an American from a mile away while you're waiting.  They're the ones that are all tied up, anxious, checking their watch, moving around with ants in their pants.  I'm proud to say I'm no longer that girl.  I refuse to look at my watch anymore-- is looking at it going to signal the tram driver to magically appear?  I refuse to get anxious.  Italy could care less if you're 10 minutes late.  Seriously.  And I've begun to unwind.  To relax.  To enjoy standing in silence.  To enjoy the few minutes I have to just watch the rain fall, to watch the cars go by.  Life's too short to always be rushing.  Europeans LOVE their life.  And that's why they live longer than us, plain and simple.  Because in those 10 minutes when you're jumping around, stressing yourself out, losing years off your life, they're the ones standing there thinking "How funny does that American look?  Hmmm I wish the tram would come, but gosh, I sure do love the rain."