Coming home

London wrecked me. Stepping off the plane, I no longer want to live in Italy, least of all Naples. Coming home from England and having to speak Italian for the first time (though we heard plenty of it on the Tube in London), I feel a wave of frustration that wasn’t there before. I don’t want to drive with the crazies. I don’t want the Mediterranean sun. I don’t want the trash or the pastries or the road signs leading to nowhere. I feel myself thinking that it isn’t fair I couldn’t live in England, which has that rich, European history but where we could actually ask someone to explain when we don’t understand something.

Far from being an antidote to culture shock, it heightened it for me. It’s like I’ve been running a race and stopped at a donut shop. When it comes time to start running again, every particle in my body screams against it. No, we’ll stay here, they all say. Let’s run some other time.

But I have to go to work tomorrow. And I have to get someone to fix that awful smell in our bedroom.

Just like I’ve had striking experiences on the road leaving Campania, we seem to always come home to something terrible. From Tuscany, we came home to an alarm we couldn’t shut off. When Julie got home from Rome, I’d left my keys on the inside of the door at 4 a.m. and her key didn’t work from the outside (our friend had to break in). Coming home from London, they were working on the water and we couldn’t get water pressure in any of our faucets. Coming home from Alberobello, we still didn’t have a home yet. The first day back at work from a vacation is always the worst, as well.

Living in Italy, if I haven’t made that clear yet, isn’t remotely like vacationing in Italy.

Napoli is a condensed Italy, an Italy without hospitality, or at least a pre-tourist Italy. Neapolitans are an intense variety of Italian, or perhaps an unconquered breed. Occupied countless times in their 2,700 year history, but never conquered. Individuals have been extremely hospitable and friendly, but as a group they repel the casual tourist. There are very few “touristy” places in Naples. It’s for the varsity team—all others need not bother. There is treasure here, but only a seasoned explorer will find it. It requires more than mere receptivity. You’d hope the next sentence would read “…and rewards more than the more immediately pleasing tourist destinations.” But it’s never that simple. Maybe I’ll be able to say that, eventually. Maybe not. I’m thinking that’s the wrong way to frame it, but I’ll have to let you know. I’ve loved Naples in the past, and there are times I love it still. Will I start the race again? Will I willingly run with the varsity team and dig in to Naples? Yes. Just not for a few more weeks, please.

I apologize for the two-month hiatus. Stick around while I navigate the tricky pathways between wonder and culture shock.