.~ . • 4 ~' I .Tli,,' I \1 \', ' 1: ... 1"\ 1 1 r:n . ,.,+ • _ , .. I ](.-III!II ~.' .114.' • My Trip to Florence I've been on this plane for over nine hours. It will be landing at the Atlanta airport soon. The last time I was at that airport I was departing to begin an adventure in learning, travel , and life . Now the adventure is ending and I already miss the places I have seen and the people I have met, I have just completed a semester at Harding Univesity in Aorence . I already miss the tranquility of the Aorentine villa in which I lived, with its restful view of a small park where children play against the backdrop of a castle and a vineyard, I just now felt a sudden craving for pasta which was served to me nearly everyday in one form or another. I miss the two Italian cooks; they taught me how to eat spaghetti correctly and told me, in sign language-Italian, to be careful when I went out. However, I do not miss my 16-hour course load I took in Italy, But looking back I realize that it was not so bad. I only had classes Monday through Thursday and I was always out by early afternoon. The long weekends gave me a chance to travel a great deal. I learned more on those weekend trips abroad than I have been able to derive from the combination of all the books I have ever read , I was actually able to enter a foreign culture for awhile. I was no t just looking at pictures in a book; I was there. I actually walked among the purple-haired new wavers in Amsterdam, the mink-clad Parisians on Rue Royal , and the veiled women of Morocco. I could feel the frustration a Yugoslavian migh t feel when I had to battle red tape and delays behind the iron curtain. I could feel a spiritual and mental hopelessness when I walk- - Public Rellltions Office ed the poverty ridden streets of Tangier. I could better understand the war guilt Germans feel when I toured Hitler's concentration camp at Dachau. However, I also gained a sense of beauty and history when I went on these trips. The gothic grace of Notre Dame in Paris, the sun bleached ruins of Greece, story book villages nestled in the Alps, and endless art treasures gathered in museums all across Europe. However, my favorite country is, and always will be , Italy. I think I could live there all my life and never learn half of what there is to learn in that ancient land. My favorite city in Italy is Florence, the city of the Renaissance, Michelangelo, Botticelli , da Vinci, Dante and Michiavelli . History is on every street corner, in practically every flagstone of the patterned streets. I could even see history in the small shops which line the streets. In florence , many of the shops are in buildings hundreds of years old. When I walked down the sidewalk on a hot afternoon and felt the cave-like coolness emanate from one of those dark shops, I would begin to sense the sco res of generations that had earned a living there. The airplane is circling the airport now in preparation for landing. I wonder if my parents will know me right away. I have changed, I know and understand much more; perhaps I am a bit wiser, I now understand that there is more to the world than just the United States, A vast variety of peoples and cultures whose presence I will never take for granted again. I am glad to be back in the United States , but I will miss Europe and always look back on this adventure as one of the happiest times of my life . - Linda Ford Harding in Florence 121
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