goodbye my love

And this would be our free day in Venice… we woke up early so we could get to church on time. This is quite the process due to the fact that we had checkouts when sacrament meeting was and couldn’t store our bags at the hotel. So at 8:30 we headed on to a water taxi to the train station to keep our luggage. I hauled all 70 pounds by myself up a flight of stairs around the corner and down the entire length of the station. Unfortunately we had to give a copy of our passport for them to even take them, but we were bound and determined to make it to church, and on time. After this we hustled over the new contemporary bridge to the bus station. Quickly purchased our tickets and hopped on. Three quarters of us, Josie, Megan, Mal, Whitney, Becca, and Laura, had to stand as the bus drove into Mestra, which is the closest city on the coast. The bus pulled up and took us to the train station there. Side note, thanks to Megan’s brother Shane who is serving in the Milan mission who had a companion who served in Venice, we had perfect directions down to the approximate yardage. We had to hop on another bus, walk a little ways and we approach the church. It’s a building set back, with a yard and trees in front, a quaint white building with arches. All of us walk up and open up the heavy wood door. A man immediately runs to get the missionaries and we end up sitting in an Italian Sunday school class because they were busy. It was actually very interesting to hear Italian and then certain words like Joseph Smith in English. Although I didn’t follow anything that was being said it was nice to just be at church, to have that little bit of home back. The room was small with about 8 members and 50 wood chairs. I loved this poster which had a picture of the Italian peninsula with all their churches shown in relation to the cities in which they were. At the bottom it said Italian Mission Success. (In Italian of course, but I could tell what it was saying) I thought it was so adorable and true that because of missionary work they now have all these churches that they love. They had a picture of Christ and a chalk board. After this we were guided upstairs to sacrament service. We met a man, Daniel, who interpreted to us over headsets. I missed the first talk because we had to share, but the second talk was about eternal marriage and preparing to have hard times in marriage. I found it very insightful even though I’m not married it’s good to focus on. We then sang Families can be Together Forever in Italian for them, and English for us because we knew it. Within possibly the first few words I of course teared up and starting crying. Mainly because the Italian was so pretty to hear, the words in English made sense, and the song testifies of families being together eternally. At this point I was really beginning to miss my family and heavenly father sure knows how to make you feel better. It just reminded me that no matter how far apart or distant, no matter the struggles or turmoil, I’ll always get to be with my parents and brothers. The meeting ended with another speaker and song, this time we tried to sing Italian from the hymn book. What I loved mostly was the sweetness of it all. The building was so plain with tiled floors and wood beam ceilings, a piano in the corner, 50 wood chairs lined up perfectly, a few chairs in front, and these amazingly cool glass lights that looked like fire. (Italian gets it done when it comes to lighting fixtures) I was a little jealous though that they had an electronic hymnal sign. The thing was that no matter how humble the circumstance or design aspect it made me feel like home because of the feelings that I felt while I was there. After sacrament we stayed after and talked to the Danish family who sat by us and the members. They were all so friendly and helpful, I felt like a celebrity, maybe because I’m clearly not Italian by the looks of me; I was some kind of foreign alien. We headed back to the mainland the same way we entered and then broke up to spend our last day in Italy doing what we wanted. Megan and I decided to just sit by the water for a while and watch the people, watch how they lived and immerse ourselves in the culture. I noticed these things- that Italian people are never in a real hurry to get anywhere; they take their time getting places, enjoying what’s around them. I wish I was more like that. Italian people are skinny because they have to walk everywhere, and also because they just eat carbs and burn them off like nobody’s business. I wish I was like that. Italian people genuinely care about their friends, neighbors, culture, and city. I hope I’m like that.
After our observations we decided to walk down the streets and do a little window shopping. We weren’t really feeling it and decided to just wander and again immerse ourselves in the land. Italy is unique in that every corner holds a vendor, almost every building is a store with windows all the selling the same thing, and everybody wants you to buy. At this point in the day I was starving and needed some substance before the train ride, so what do I do, yes… head to American cuisine, McDonald’s. I had had it with trying to eat fake meats and Italian pasta and pizza. I needed some home. I walked in ordered my little happy meal with pineapple for dessert and sat down. I cannot tell you how excited I was to eat this. Provided I knew what I was getting. Also, I could sit in there all day, the design was so posh! They had a flat screen TV, white marble floors, swanky leather chairs, tiled things on the wall, vinyl wall wraps, and cool metal tables. I was impressed and confused as to why ours in the US don’t look that way.
We continued our adventure on to the Rialto where we had to get some last bits of gelato, as we hadn’t tried pistachio yet. It quickly topped the charts. SO GOOD! I highly recommend it. Soon we met up with Michelle and Ashley on the bridge and headed to do the most famous thing yet in all of our travels, a gondola ride. We met our man and jumped in the boat. The gondola was black, red, and fuzzy all over. It reminded me of the 16th century, and was so fitting for that. I grabbed a little padded bench seat on the side and off we headed to the Grand Canal. Our gondola driver, we’ll call him Henry, told us all about the different sites around Venice such as the prison which was white and marbled, and the oldest home in Venice which dated back 30 centuries, and that Venice has a new top layer for entrances because of the ever changing water levels. He then sang to us and told us all about the gondoliering business. They have to take gondolier school and pass two tests; also they can’t just be one after they pass the test because the city only allows 425 to be in business. Despite all these technical terms, you have to wait for someone in your family to hand down their license, basically, to you because of the art of doing it. We took our pictures with him. Best twenty Euros I spent. It was so worth it to just be on the water and see the beautiful city.Meg and I continued back to the shops on our way out of town. We purchased a few things and heard a few things, this was my favorite thus far, a woman smacked a man and said, “Do not go home to her!” Needless to say it was hilarious and a true lovers spat. The train ride came soon enough; we grabbed our luggage and pushed our heavy bags on to the two ounce big train. It probably took half an hour to get us all situated into our little coach. Naturally my bag wouldn’t fit under the seat, so we had to heave it into the air on the top bunks and shove it above the door. Quite the process for about 4 bags. The next process was putting sick nasty sheets on to our foam pad fold down beds. I swear the blankets had lice and infectious diseases. So after hilarious accidents, crammed uncomfortable seating, and exhaustion we fell asleep. Whoever designed these cars was about 4 feet tall because for someone of my stature it just wasn’t working out to be on the top bunk or get around. The later was toothpick big and my bunk had two ‘seatbelt’ looking straps holding it to the wall. Worst sleep of my life, but we made it to Paris! I think I might really begin to miss Venice. It was all too perfect