Mother Prato

So I, admittedly, haven't done much this week. Life has fallen into a kind of routine that has had very little deviation these last few days. I know where I'm going to eat everyday and when, I diligently do my laundry on laundry days, I end every other day at the same bar, and I always close my window five minutes before every obnoxious ring of the bell in the tower next to my room. I've even begun to run into locals (around my age) that I've previously hung out with, drank with, or friended on facebook, on a daily basis. The past week, however, has given me plenty of time to reflect on the trip as a whole.

I would say that, judging by the way people treat us (the students from Beacon College), we've definitely made a good impression on the community as a whole, which is always nice to know. Here in Prato, especially, there seems to be no end to people's kindness. The hospitality thus-far has truly been heartwarming. It's interesting to find that many people seem to know we're not Italian even before we speak.  Perhaps our fashion sense just isn't quite as evolved, or maybe the racial diversity in our little groups is uncommon. Regardless of the reason, it's amazing that they always feel compelled to approach us and welcome us to their country/city. This is probably - in part - due to the fact that they rarely get any Americans to begin with. I don't think I'll ever get tired of the looks on peoples' faces when they find out we're studying here in Prato and not Florence or Rome or Venice, nor the friendly debates that follow where I argue for the pros and they argue for the cons of living here. 

This city, in its entirety, has embraced me and made me comfortable enough to roam its streets at any hour, and approach almost anyone when I need help. I've traveled to many, many different countries and these are not things I could say so easily for most of them. I am a lucky man indeed, and grateful for the opportunity to eat and do laundry in such a warm, friendly, beautiful place.