Expect the Unexpected

alking around the city of Milan on an unexpected twelve hour layover, I felt as if I could fall asleep standing up. The group of travelers I was with had been awake for approximately the past 30 hours. We walked through the Galleria, with glass dome walkways, frescos in each corner, shops like Prada and Borsellino and cafes lining the sides. At the end of the Galleria we walked outside to the courtyard and I saw the Duomo. I was awestruck.

But even the sight of the old Gothic cathedral hadn't prepared me for what was to happen once I got inside. We entered to find an Italian mass being celebrated. My fellow students were strolling around, taking pictures as usual, and I wandered off. I had not been to mass in a long time, but all of a sudden the hairs on my arms, legs, and the back of my neck stood straight up. Though I didn't speak Italian, somehow I knew that they were reciting the Apostle's Creed.

As the priest spoke, I looked around at the kaleidoscopic stained glass windows, the gothic art, and the body of Jesus Christ hanging from his cross high above my head. All of these images brought tears to my eyes. I began to wander around this enigmatic place searching to find the reason why I was so overwhelmed with the unexplainable intense emotions I was feeling. I saw a table to my right with hundreds of burning candles that people could make donations, take a candle, light it from one that was already lit, and place it in one of candle holders on the table. I stood there in awe for a couple of minutes. Still teary eyed walked over and put about 20 American dollars in the donation cup. I picked up a candle, lit it myself, and placed it where I thought it belonged. I was mesmerized. I said a prayer for my best friend's father who passed away the week before I left, and for Jake (my best friend) to be ok. I had to take a deep breath. I was lost in my own thoughts. Standing in front of this array of hundreds of lit candles inside the largest cathedral I have ever seen, there was nothing left that I could absorb visually or mentally. Completely aloof to my watch and the time I was supposed to meet with the group, my professor, BJ patted me on the back.

"We have to go now," she said.

I looked up at her and shook my head. I couldn't even speak.

"I know," she said, "this is a really emotional place."

She then walked me over to the basin of holy water and we blessed ourselves before exiting this strange place. For some reason certain places have the ability to overwhelm people with experiences that sound so crazy but feel so real. A photographer named Chris who was traveling in our group told me later that day that she had been in tears at the Duomo. She then proceeded to explain that a "Stendahl experience" is when a person has an experience that can't be explained in words, but, makes a lasting impression that is never forgotten.

It was in the cathedral in Milan that I realized an important lesson about travel: the most enlightening experiences can often occur when you least expect them.
It didn't start out that way...

Spring break. I was forced to make a decision. My friends were planning to go on a Carnival Cruise for a fun filled week of late night spirits, sunbathing, and bonding for the last spring break we would ever have. I had never been away on spring break, and as a graduating senior, I knew I wanted to go somewhere. Over Christmas break, my father got his hands on a brochure for the Journalism 391R Travel Writing and Photojournalism course that would spend ten days in Sicily over spring break.

"Khara," he asked, "This is a once in a lifetime experience. How come you have never told me about this trip before, this looks like something you would love to do?"

As much as I wanted to go away with my friends, my father was right. I could go on a cruise anytime in my life. So, at the last minute, my unexpected decision was made. I was going to Sicily and was unaware at the time, of the unforgettable collection of memories, friendships, and lessons that this trip would leave me with.

Throughout the entire trip I found myself encountering wild unexpected situations wherever I went. I guess as a traveler visiting an unfamiliar place, unable to speak the language, with a group of forty people, unexpected situations are inevitable. For the past two months we had been fueling ourselves up with all the information about Sicily that we could find. But, I soon found out as we traveled around the island of Sicily that no matter how forewarned I was, a place is never completely real until you see it for yourself. We read about the wine, but had no idea how much better it tasted than the wines we buy in America. We read about the Sicilian seafood, but I had no idea that I was about to eat some of the finest delicacies I would ever taste including blue fish, fish balls, squid, and octopus. We looked at photos of the ancient cathedrals and ruins, but until actually seeing these places ten feet in front of us, we had no idea of their true size and detail. Typical scenery as we stared out the windows of the bus included rolling hills, mountains with compact villages topping them, and miles of green fields with random little cottages. In every village that we visited I felt like I was walking through the replica of Italy at the World Showcase at Epcot Center in Fl. Every village appeared to be quite similar with narrow cobblestone streets, intricately carved doors of all colors, side streets that looked like they should be alleyways, and balconies coming out of every building. Sicilians would come out to water their plants or hang their laundry to dry, and have conversations from these balconies making me feel like this is a place where they all know each other, and could easily identify us as the outsiders.

As for language...I knew maybe ten words in Italian. Communication was going to be a struggle...

We were a group of miscellaneous travelers. The group of forty consisted of 22 students, and 18 adults who were professors, photographers, painters, writers, etc. Since none of us really knew each other before we left we were forced to mingle while we spent 10 days straight together. As for language...I knew maybe ten words in Italian. Communication was going to be a struggle, but I was excited because I had never been to a place where English wasn't spoken.

Although I was faced with these challenges, I couldn't wait. The trip was one of the most rewarding experiences I could have ever asked for. My journal became a hobby for me and I picked up little souvenirs along the way to put in it. I left Umass with a few acquaintances from class, and wound up coming back with some really close new friends. The adults shared their knowledge and experiences with us. Pippin Ross, a reporter from National Public Radio, carried around her microphone and had us on the record at all times. Chris, the photographer, helped us with our camera confusions, and Jeremiah the painter, asked me to come paint one of the Greek amphitheaters in watercolor with him one morning. I guess there's something about being confined on a bus for the countless hours that we all were, that encouraged us all to get to know each other. At first I wasn't sure how the adults would feel about traveling with 22 college students, but, they seemed to have a great time with us and vice versa.

The bus was a place where large segments of our days were spent. With Giovanni as our handsome Italian bus driver who dressed in a GQ fashion made our trip most definitely entertaining while we rode around staring out the windows. On the bus we were allowed to listen to music, but only if it was Italian music. So, we got used to hearing a lot of Frank Sinatra and The Godfather soundtrack, which, I thought was very appropriate. Although the streets in Sicily are not made for cars, never mind tourist busses, Giovanni never let us down. Driving up the mountain to Erice, the "city above the clouds", on the windy zigzag streets with an incline of about 45 degrees with every turn, we all sat tight as Giovanni had to pull a three point turn around one of these corners. Laughing at how scared we all were that the bus would just roll backwards down the mountain, Giovanni said into the loudspeaker "Don't worry, be happy", forcing all of us into tears because we were laughing so hard. In terms of a bus-driver, we lucked out. I had never expected that our bus driver would become one of my favorite people on the trip. Not only did he cart us around for ten days, but also he had fun with us. One night we saw him riding around with his friend on a motorcycle, and he waved to us as they cruised by us. Another day he pulled the bus over and told us all get off the bus so he could give us each a taste of chocolate grappa, lusciously chocolate-flavored liquor that we savored the taste of. He actually gave me the empty bottle as a souvenir to take home. I can still put the bottle up to my nose and taste the sweet leftover scent. And, if this wasn't enough, he arranged for us all to go out to a "discoteca" on our last night in Taeromina before we went home.

Josie, our tour guide for the week, went above and beyond the duties of her job. She entered our lives as our tour guide and somehow within the ten days we spent with her, she became one of the greatest mentors and role models I have ever known. "Life is beautiful," she told us. "...And you should never plan your life like a math problem where you follow a formula and end up with an answer because when you reach the end of the problem, you may find out that you have arrived at a wrong answer and you have to start all over again." She told us not to take life too seriously and to enjoy it as much as we can. She basically told us to welcome, rather than avoid the unexpected. And since I kept running into so many "unexpected" situations on my travels through Sicily, I found this advice very appropriate for this trip.

Finding us out at Lillie's café one night, five of us decided to stay for just one more drink before going back to Rio del Sol, our hotel in Cefalu. The only other people in the cafe were a group of Italians who we eventually learned were celebrating their friend's 31st birthday. The group of Italians sent over to our table, two slices of cake with five spoons and five glasses of champagne. We all made a toast, and although they could barely speak English and we could barely speak Italian, we sang "Happy Birthday" in English to the birthday boy. We all attempted to converse with each other, but communication was rather difficult with the language barrier between us. It didn't matter though, because it was just one more experience I'll never forget.

When we arrived in Sicily we were all given a "Stop the bus" pass which entitled each of us to yell out "Stop the bus" if we saw something outside that we wanted to take pictures of. As we were peacefully driving along, a herd of goats appeared before us. Just about everyone who wasn't sleeping at this point yelled out "STOP THE BUS!!!" as we all jumped out of our seats and scurried off the bus to take pictures of these funny animals. These goats were less than pleased with us for invading their territory as we chased them through their fields where they had been grazing. They all clustered together in a game of follow the leader and ran as far away from us as they could turning around shouting "Baah" at us. All of the bells around their necks were clanking as our group of tourists tripped over our own feet trying to get as close to them as we could. I couldn't stop laughing at everyone. We looked like we were chasing after gold rather than goats. Once again, another unexpected situation that always makes me laugh whenever I think about it.

One particular afternoon, we went to the city of Salemi on St. Joseph's Day. After walking around the city and taking pictures, we all sat down on the ground in, what looked like a courtyard in the center of town to eat our bagged lunches. Apparently, this was hysterical to everyone but us because all of a sudden, the townspeople came outside, circled around us while they proceeded to point and laugh at us. To this day I have no idea why they thought we were so funny, but it didn't matter because they were all very friendly.

the townspeople came outside, circled around us while they proceeded to point and laugh at us

Communication between "us" and "them" consisted of facial expressions, body language, and some funny sounds. We took pictures with these Sicilians even after they treated us like we were aliens. Honestly, it was one of the most bizarre situations I've ever seen, but it's another one for my collection of unexpected occurrences.

My final "unexpected" experience took place on our last night in Sicily. After staying up all night until our flight from Palermo to Milan at 3:30am, I have to say that I was absolutely 100% emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. After ten days of little to no sleep, and some of the best times of my life, I couldn't help but cry as I walked from walked from the airport in Palermo onto our plane. As I found my seat (yes, still in tears) I sat down in my seat next to a woman I did not know. She turned to me and said;

"So, you must have had a good time?"

"Yes." I replied. "I don't want to leave."

"Don't worry," she said as she handed me a piece of Italian bread from the plastic bag she was holding in her lap, "you'll come back."

So, the two of us sat and watched the island of Sicily become smaller and farther away as we took off in flight.

I decided to take out my journal and write in it on the flight. As I started writing about random people who come into your life and make unforgettable impressions...I fell asleep with the pen in my hand and my journal wide open.

The next thing I remember was waking up as the plane was landing and the lady sitting next to me was drawing pictures on a pad of yellow post-its. I looked at her as I realized that the plane was landing and said;
"Wow, I was really tired."

"You sure must be," she replied as she smiled at me with an odd, but comforting expression.

"What are you drawing?" I asked.

"Impressions," she said as she smiled and winked at me.

"Oh," was the only word I was able to reply.

I looked down at my journal and realized that the last word I had written was "impressions". I closed my journal and put it back in my carry-on bag feeling somewhat baffled.
"Here," the lady said as she handed me her pad of post-it "impressions", "you keep these. They'll remind you of the impressions you had of Sicily."

I sat on the plane flipping through the pad of pictures she drew in black pen of different buildings, fruit stands, plants, and etc. that you would typically see in Sicily.
"Wow," I said, "these are awesome. Thank you so much."

As we stood up and walked off the plane, I couldn't stop thinking about this lady whom I had such a strange encounter with. As I flipped through the yellow post-its in the airport in Milan, I saw the words written on the last page, "Bueno Fortuna," the date, and on the back of the last post-it she wrote her address. I still have yet to write to her, but definitely plan to send her a letter along with some of the photos I took of the "impressions" she drew for me.

My decision to go to Sicily for spring break was probably one of the best decisions I have ever made. The people I met, the places I saw, and the memories I have are unforgettable. Ending this trip with my post-it lady on the plane, made leaving Sicily unexpectedly, ok. As sad as I was to see the trip come to an end, I couldn't wait to see my pictures and finish my journal with the collection of memories that I made while I was away.