My New Host Family (Post 1)

What scared me the most about coming to Italy this summer was probably living with a host family. It was just so strange to me that on the other side of the world there was someone whom I never met before that was going to take me into their home and treat me as their own. I constantly pondered all that could go wrong: What if they didn’t like me? What if it is extremely awkward? What if I can’t be myself in my own place of living? Clearly living with complete strangers is something I have had no previous experience with and I had no idea what to expect. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the thought that hours after saying goodbye to my family at the Chicago airport I would be entering a new one.
Carla's (my host mother) son was waiting at the airport to take us to our new home. He was extremely generous from the moment that we met him and excited for our arrival. My fears were at ease until he told us to my surprise that his mother spoke no English. This wasn’t necessarily something I was upset about but I was caught off guard and a little worried due to the fact that I spoke zero Italian. At this point I really did not know what to expect.
Carla has been nothing short of an amazing host and a real mother to us. She gets so exited when we come through the door or when she sees us walking in town. She stays after dinner to look at what we are learning in class and quizzes us multiple times until we get it perfect. Her cooking is incredible and there is nothing like a homemade Italian meal to make this place more comfortable and actually start to feel like a home. To my surprise, the fact that we did not speak the same language does not yield our communication and interaction with one another at all. Our meals and encounters are filled with talking even though we do not always know what the other is saying. After only a few short days Carla’s house and my room here really feel like my own.