I woke up this morning at four o'clock after getting only a few hours of sleep. My adrenaline and excitement hid my exhaustion, because I was about to catch a 6:00am flight to Chicago. After 15 minutes of getting myself ready I hopped in the car with Dad and headed to the airport. He dropped me off and I was on my own.
I got to my gate and waited for about an hour until I boarded the plane. I fell asleep as we took off and woke back up as we were landing. I got off the plane and now I had to find the CTA (Chicago's train system). I found the Blue Line that would bring me all the way downtown near the Magnificent Mile on Michigan Avenue... or so I thought. I hopped off on Grand thinking I would be familiarized with buildings and landmarks, but instead there were none to be found. I took my phone out and put in the General Consulate's address into the maps. Turns out that I was half an hour walking distance from where I needed to be. It was almost 9:00 and my appointment was at 10:00. I knew I would have enough time to walk, so that's exactly what I did. Luckily I had my walking shoes on! Unfortunately, it was raining and humid. By the time I got to the consulate I was sweaty and my hair had a mind of its own. It was almost 9:30, I checked in and sat down.
Next to me was an old man with a sweet smile. He asked me what I was doing here. I told him I was getting my visa so I could live in Rome for a year. A big grin came across his face and he kept repeating "beautiful" in his Italian accent. We kept talking and he told me how much I would love it and how respectable the people were. He said if I respect them, they will do the same. He continued to ask what would happen if I never came back home because I fell in love. I asked, "In love with what? He proceeded to tell me Rome is beautiful again and again. The best part was when he described the men. He gestured his face and said, "The boys are not boys, they are men." I smiled and laughed telling him how my mother is afraid I will fall in love with the country, and my friends are certain I will fall in love with a handsome Italian boy. He repeated, "Not boys, men." Once again grabbing his jawline.
He told me about his life. He came to America 32 years ago, and gained citizenship two years ago. He had two children in their 40's who also had kids of their own. He showed me a picture of his family when they came here for the first time. They were beautiful. I asked him why he was at the consulate, and he said he was getting his Italian passport.
He showed me all the cool Italian applications on his phone. We watched some TV and looked at the news, all in Italian of course. He showed me his translation app and I showed him mine.
His name was called, we said our goodbyes, and he left into a room. Minutes later my name was called. I was nervous, because the people in front of me were all getting rejected for not having proper paperwork. I said "buon giorno" to the teller. After going through all my paperwork, the lady ripped my picture off of my application and told me I needed a passport picture. She told me I was a crazy, young kid who needed to go to Walgreens. I turned around grabbed my things and as I did another man who had been sitting next to me and the other man asked me what I needed. I told him and he took out his phone and jokingly said, "I will take your picture." I laughed and so did he. He put his phone back, because I was not about to allow him to take a picture of me. I started walking out, but he called to me. I turned around and he was talking to his wife to didn't speak English. She was saying that I should talk to the woman at the front desk on the main level. She thought that I could take my picture in the building.
That ended up not being the case, so I ran down the block, took my mug shot and ran back to the consulate within minutes. The teller and I went through everything again and finally she accepted it. I graciously thanked her and finally she was nice to me. I had completed the application and a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I turned around smiled and said "Ciao" at the couple who had given me advice. The man said something I didn't understand in Italian and grinned.
I took the elevator from the 18th floor to the main level. When I got outside I took a breath of fresh air. The last big task on my list was accomplished. My application was accepted.
That brings me to where I am now, sitting at the Corner Bakery Cafe eating brunch. My return flight isn't until 7:45pm, so I have the rest of the day ahead of me. I will try to stop at Millennium Park, visit my favorite stores and maybe watch some Netflix at a cafe.
Until next time.
Ciao!
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