|In front of my mom's old house in the Italian mountains|
Over Easter weekend, I traveled to Emilia-Romagna to visit cousins I haven't seen since 2007 and relatives that I haven't seen since I was eight years old. I was most excited for this weekend and was planning it since February, using my mom to help me translate e-mails since my Italian is very broken and my cousin, who I am staying with, speaks broken English. Stepping off the train, I was excited and nervous. Two hours into the visit, I was exhausted; my brain literally hurt from trying to translate the Italian into English, comping up with a response and then translating it from English to Italian. I was also extremely overwhelmed knowing that even though I haven't seen or spoken to my relatives in years, I was a welcomed guest and treated like royalty. This weekend was one for the memory books.
|The town where my relatives live|
|Only in Italy would you find fresh ravioli pasta in an ice cream freezer|
|I remember this from when I was eight year old!|
|Mom's house :)|
|The view outside my mom's old house|