Last week I got my first tattoo. It is a concept I have contemplated for the past four years, and decided now was a better time than ever to finally follow through with it. And what better place to get it done than in Hermosa Beach; a place that holds the memory of a very special family member that always encouraged me to follow my heart and live boldly. So, what did I get? It is the first phrase of a song that was introduced to me during a weekend trip that changed my life forever. Here’s the story:
Over the course of four months, I spent three hours a day four days a week in Italian class while studying in Rome. There were about ten students in the class, all of whom were genuinely looking to develop an authentic understanding of the Italian language and culture in order to enrich their study-abroad experience, beyond the typical study-abroad party experience.
It was still early in the semester, and no one really knew each other all too well yet. This particular day in class, we watched an Italian film, Il Cento Passi, with a storyline of a young journalist determined to expose the awful truths of a Sicilian mobster, who lived 100 steps from where he grew up. (If you are into foreign films, I highly suggest giving this a watch.) After watching this film, our Italian professor, Claudio, proposed that we take a class trip to Palermo, Sicily, where the film takes place. We all agreed on a weekend everyone could attend and headed for Palermo. After a day of exploring the city, we took to Mercato di Capo to see what a traditional Sicilian open market was like. We strolled down the mile-long market, captivated by the smells, colors, and intoxicating intonation of the Italian accent at every turn.
We were nearing the end of the market when we overheard what sounded like cheering coming from down the street. We assumed it was just a café showing a soccer game (or futbol, shall I say), and decided to check it out. We were amazed not to find a café, but a little tailoring shop (where you’d get your pants hemmed) instead. Clearly closed for business, this little shop was filled with over a dozen Sicilian men over the age of 70 years old singing opera and playing instruments of all kinds. My classmates and I peered through the shop windows in absolute astonishment from what we were witnessing. Were we in a movie?
These men were not in a band. They were not at any sort of mandatory rehearsal. They were just a bunch of friends getting together to sing, play music, and enjoy each others company simply for the enjoyment of it. They eventually realized that they had an audience, and made their way out of the shop, grabbing us each by the hand pulling us into their group music session.
These men did not speak a lick of English, but we had learned enough Italian at this point to engage in basic conversation. They were handing out sheet music to “O Sole Mio” and it was then that I heard that phrase for the first time: “che bella cosa,” translating to “what a beautiful thing.” For the next twenty minutes, we danced and sang with the Italians as they twirled us around and handed out instruments for us to strum away at. All the while Claudio stood in the doorway recording the whole thing, with tears in his eyes. He was witnessing his students apply the knowledge he had taught them in real life.
This surreal experience was my first taste of how travel can open you up to a world of experiences and possibilities.
So back to the tattoo. It a symbol of everything that has led me to where I am in life right now. “Che bella cosa” embodies the very outlook I have taken on life. What a beautiful thing. It is an anecdote from all the amazingly beautiful experiences I have had, all the beautiful places I have been, all of the amazingly beautiful people I have met along the way, and to the beautiful experiences, places, and people I have yet to encounter. It is a symbol of the beautiful life I am chasing and achieving, all at the same time.
Wander On,
Wanderluluu
