1st July 2019, Bari, Italy
Perching on branches of burnt and briny tamarisks, I stop to think about the temperature range I experienced in the past few days. Only when I came back to my boiling South could I make peace to the wet English weather. The constant chirping of cicadas these days does not let me recollect my English adventures in tranquillity. I'm a walking oxymoron: I feel misplaced, my body might be able to conceal the uneasiness, but my soul senses that I'm not harmoniously arranged in the surrounding environment. At least not yet, perhaps never again.
I ramble along the shore,
barefoot,
with my light brown tentacles
trapping dried salt,
jealously whispering "you belong here",
and trying to take root in the sand,
where tamarisks bushes thrive as well,
so that the sea wind
could take me under its wing, forever.
But sea salt didn't taste so sweet this time.
As much as I feel rooted to my South, our experience shapes where we are from. Home is where our life experiences occur; home is the places we feel emotionally attached to. My experience is where I am from, and I know I can call Durham home now. Durham is not just a space, it is more than just a location. Durham is a place, since it's moulded by human experience and permeated with sentiments. Going on Erasmus has been a hugely enriching experience for me, both humanly and academically speaking. It boosted my environmental, multicultural and self-awareness, it encouraged me to confront different pairs of eyes and brilliant minds, and most importantly, it gifted me with disarmingly beautiful human beings as friends.
6th December 2020, Bari, Italy
It has been almost three years now since my year abroad, and now more than ever the thought of Durham soothes my soul. This pandemic is exposing us to huge stress also caused by high levels of skin hunger, lack of affectionate contact and social relations, as well as by the impossibility of travelling across countries - here in Italy not even across provinces and regions, as a matter of fact. Reality is too tight-fitting for me these days, so what better way to find solace than reminiscing about the most harmonious and untroubled time of my life? It was the 26th of September 2018, I remember I was crouching on the sloping roof of my attic in Siena while playing one of my favourite records. The sunlight blinded me and yet I found it masochistically pleasing: I begged the stars not to let our warm and cheerful king be dethroned by a more somber one that was presumably awaiting me up in the North. The next day all my hopes were swept away by the taxi driver who took me to Roosevelt Road 28 and told me that we would get a freezing and snowy winter coming in (and yet we would suffer from the effects of climate change rather than cold weather).
Roosevelt Road 28, here we are. A middle-aged fair skinned man with a thick Cockney accent opened the door and introduced himself as Jerry “the handyman”. He showed me around the house and made himself available for anything (and we can all assure you that it wasn’t a mere formality, JJ was genuinely helpful). You cannot imagine how fond I am of Jerry: if on a late summer night four girls of four different nationalities got paired in the same house is thanks to a tipsy man who was hanging out at the Queen’s Head in Gilesgate trying to find potentially well-matched flatmates scrutinising our Facebook profiles. He could not have predicted the sisterhood that was awaiting us, and neither could we: Heather, Alejandra, Ilektra and I are all from four different countries, but all “warm-cultured” at heart, as Heather would say. Throughout my year abroad I never felt like a boat in the woods, out of place or lost and this is because I had very supportive friends and a marvellous Erasmus crew by my side. I will always be immensely grateful for our deep conversations sitting over a cup of Earl Grey and a slice of Victoria sponge cake at Tealicious or Vennel’s; our heart-felt hugs, intense glances and radiant smiles are engraved on my skin, as well as the pleasure of enjoying silence while walking across Framwellgate Bridge contemplating the placid River Wear which I saw wilting, falling, rooting, rising and finally blooming again during my nine-month stay.
As far as English landscapes are concerned, my grandma has always made me romanticize about English gardens and their “messy” beauty. I remember I closed the loop with my English adventures by booking an afternoon tea at Crook Hall & Gardens. Once I was there, I fantasised about putting all that cute and refined china into a curio cabinet! I felt so absent-minded while walking through those enchanting and peaceful oases – source of inspiration for romantic poets like Wordsworth – where wild vegetation and flowers reign supreme. Nevertheless, what made my English afternoon so magical was Matilde’s company, but more broadly, what made my Erasmus unforgettable was my community of friends who tiptoed through the quietest places of my soul bringing me serenity, joy and light-heartedness. We formed a multicultural community, an inviting salad bowl which made us both embrace different customs and made us perform and rethink our own traditions: and how to forget our colourful multi-ethnic dinners at Chapel Heights and our all different appetizing packed dinners after having spent the whole day writing essays at Billy B.
I never left Italy, or rather, I brought my Italianness together with me in the UK. But it also worked the other way around: English people took me back to my motherland. I did my internship at Elvet Riverside with English students who study Italian, I was immediately struck by how brilliantly talented they were. The way they sought to master the Italian language, but above all their eagerness to get to know and learn all about our behavioural pattern mesmerised me. They reminded me of how cherished, aesthetic and bewitchingly beautiful my country is and I never felt homesick. I feel so grateful to have had the opportunity to live in Durham, it was a precious gift. I really wish the year abroad of my English students to be akin to mine inasmuch as possible: I wish them to grow up, bond, do soul searching, fall in love with places and people and experience with no fear the wide range of emotions we sentient beings are able to feel.
Martina Muci
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