A casa finalmente

I survived the flight. After a grueeellllsome 14hrs of flying and waiting. Not fun lor. At the crowded Roma airport, I spent my last euros on a can of my fav San Benedetto the' pesca, an Irene Grandi Greatest Hits CD and a bottiglia of Lambrusco, dreading the flight to Bangkok. It was weird for me when they served dinner at 4pm (italian.time) and breakfast at 11pm (i.t).

Around me were italians (Luigi, I heard a guy using conguintivo! He said 'penso che fosse..') including Andrea and his girlfriend Vanessa who were impressed that I spoke their language and that I looked much younger than 32. He lives at Como and works at Meda and the smart alec in me said 'Ah, ci sono molte fabbriche di mobili' (thanks to Elena who told me that). He then asked me if I knew a Vietnamese lady there who was married to a local. I was thinking 'Che scemo! You think every asian knows one another meh?'

When we finally got to Bkk at 1am (thai 6am), the plane took off at 3am (thai 8am) and my eyelids couldn't open at all. The air stewardess poked me and asked in Thai if I wanted breakfast. Volevo dire 'Che cazzo vuoi? Non puoi vedere che sto dormendo?!' accompanied by a two-finger friendly sign but instead I just waved a finger to indicate no. At the airport, no one came to pick me up - niscuin m'addor - due to a miscommunication between my fratello and Fiona. And I wanted to kill the taxi driver who didn't help me with my bags.

I hate saying goodbye. And si, I cried on the train as it left Napoli after L bid me farewell at the platform. The sleepy black guy and fredda Italian donna opposite me pretended not to notice as I put on my shades and tears came down my cheeks. Pazza. I was already holding back my tears in the morning after hugging Teresa, Linda and Adele who said farewells are the hardest and taught me another modo di dire - 'partire e' un po morire' (To leave is to die a little). Indeed. I believe we live and die a little every moment. In this instance, leaving Pozzuoli was akin to dying a lot.

While I said arrivederci to Nonna and zia Silvana, Melina helped me to buy some last minute foodstuff like Nutella, Kimbo caffe, sfogliatelle from their local bakery and then gave me a big hearty motherly embrace at the stazione. I could still remember her smooth cool skin, clear blue eyes and kind smile. The night before, L's dad Rafaelle also hugged me goodbye cos he had to leave for the Berlin Marathon early in the morning. He asked me for my blog so he could see the photos (shit, I should erase all the parolaccia!).

Linda and Massimo had arranged a sort-of farewell dinner at their quaint casa that came with a vast terrace and stupenda vista. I joked that I'd like to stay alla sopra l'anno prossimo and they said I was more than welcome. We had so much food again - proscuitto, rucola, cheese and a spinach crusty loaf, washed down with his homemade vino bianco (un po fumato). By the time we had the rabbit stew of coniglio con piselli e patate, I counted almeno 4 bottiglie di vino. Massimo joked that if he and Linda were to split up, he'd have to pay 'un mille un mese' (1,000 /month) to feed his 2 golosi figli Felice and Valerio, both busy stuffing their faces.

Halfway through cena, it began to pour cats and dogs, and I said 'il cielo piange perche partiro domani' ( heaven is crying because I will leave tomorrow). Suzy called to say she couldn't make it and I told her I want to be at their wedding in 2 years to which Gino made a face. We brought out the tray of dolci that L had bought today from a sfogliatelle calde specialty shop at Piazza Garibaldi and everyone snatched their favourite piece. I had earlier wolfed down an aragoste alla nutella at the shop, much to L's amusement. It was so good, easily the best I had.

We had gone to the Museo Archeo Nazionale this morning too (9E) which had a good collection of statues, jewellery, household stuff and whole frescoes culled from buried Roman towns. In between sips of San Benedetto's the' pesca (the best!) and un ultima lezione cinese per lui (colori oggi), we reflected on the trip, his friends, aspirations and famiglia. He accused me of making them all upset now cos I'd be leaving (si, mia colpa). I had grown to love being part of his warm, generous nest who never for a single moment made me feel unwelcome. They were all loving, patient and full of humour. And he said 'Hai cambiato molte cose' and made his famiglia realised that we asians are not that different from them. We all want the same things in life.

It was still my night at 11.48pm when we dropped off Gino and I decided that we should drive around one last time in the comforting darkness, lost in our own thoughts. I hope he'd remember the colors that I've taught him.