EVENING IN TERRACINA
by Erica Cupido
As the train traveled from stop to stop, I looked out my window in search of water. I scanned for glimpses of ocean, for a sign that this Italian vacation would indeed be the trip of a lifetime. I didn’t see any. My two friends and I were making our way from Rome to the coastal town of Terracina, the first of four stops on our trip. The plan was simple. Speak Italian as much as possible, and avoid committing any of the stereotypical tourist faux pas.
There was one small problem, however. I had learned an arsenal of Italian words. Countless vocabulary and verb lessons later, I couldn’t muster up the courage to put what I’d learned into practice. I saw the way Italians carried themselves and communicated. Each speech was a performance that appeared both elegant and effortless. I could understand most of what I heard, but I was too afraid of making a mistake to respond. So, I remained quiet and let my friends do the talking. Whether they made grammatical mistakes or had slip-ups in pronunciation, I envied them all the while.
When the train arrived at our destination, we picked up our bags and trudged out into the sweltering heat. The crumbling buildings were shades of cream, lemon and terra cotta. Some were splashed with graffiti, while others sprouted laundry lines, with the patrons’ wardrobes in full view. Behind my sunglasses there was sweat on my brow and pebbles had found their way into my gold sandals.
“Signore!” my friend called out to a cab driver, and asked him for a ride. He knew of our hotel. He also knew that it was much too close for the drive to be worth his time. He flippantly pointed toward the city and drove away.