Going Home

This morning, I bumped into Rosy, the Brazilian lady, at the kitchen. ‘’Ah, you are still here, when do you leave?’’ she asked. ‘’Tomorrow,’’ I told her.
‘’Good, there’s still you! I leave tomorrow too, almost everyone is leaving today, she replied’’.

Yes, we bade farewells to many of our housemates this morning. I asked Min, the Korean guy when he would be leaving. ‘’In February,’’ he replied. He studies Italian as part of his University programme in Seoul and will be here for quite a while. That’s great for him; I am sure by February he will speak very well. Already I am hearing more complete and comprehensible sentences from him.

Another Korean girl asked me when I was leaving (‘’when are you leaving’’ seems to be the greeting these last few days) when I met her on my way up to my room. I told her tomorrow and she said, everyone is here only for a month, I will be here for a year, she replied. It must be sad bidding farewells to people every month. I asked if she was going to stay in this house for a year and she told me that she would be looking for another residence somewhere nearer town.

If I were her, I would have the same desire to find another residence too: one month in this sua ting villa, and I have donated enough blood to the greedy fat mosquitoes here to open a private blood bank.

And though having two stinking fridges exploding with food stuffed in a chaotic manner is still tolerable, what is not is: having people take your food without your knowledge or consent. Apparently this happened to some students on many occasions, but it just had to happen to me on my second last day here, when I am trying to manage my food supplies and not stock up too much. But as a result of this pilferage, my limited supplies got depleted and I had to make a trip to the supermarket last evening.

I asked Stefano, the cute and friendly receptionist, a silly question. Better to be save than sorry, never mind if I sound stupid. I asked if there is taxi early in the morning at 7 am tomorrow, as I had to leave by 7 am to go to the bus station to catch a bus to Rome. ‘’Do I have to book today, or call tomorrow morning?’’

He told me to call on the morning itself, rather than book the day before. I asked again, ‘’it’s early in the morning at 7 am, there is taxi?’’ I know I doubt this medieval city and the medieval way they do things, and was not going to take any chances. After all, if they have such infrequent bus services, which terminate after 9.30 pm, what can you say about taxis? ‘’Yes, yes, our taxis operate 24 hours every day,’’ he assured me.

Tomorrow morning I leave for Rome, to catch a flight home, transiting first in Bangkok. A month has jet by quickly, as quickly as the aeroplane.