Computers provide comfort
Cagli, day 10. Communication withdrawal is setting in. We decide that emergency internet access is the only cure. In hopes of connecting to the outside world, if only for a brief amount of time, Rose, Katie, Jenn and I dash out of the Atrium, our homeaway from home... far away from home--as soon as class ends at 4 o'clock. Our mission must be completed by 5 when the next class will begin. The afternoon thunderstorm is in a temporary  
lull, preparing for its next downpour. The rain, however, does not deter us from our goal. If we didn't stand out before in this little Italian town,we certainly do now. In Cagli, no one runs, there is no rush to get anywhere or to do anything. But we are Americans, and Americans run--especially when email is involved. Rushing down the street, I wonder how ridiculous we must look. Four American girls darting clumsily through the narrow, stone-paved streets, screaming, "Car!" everytime a vehicle edges up on our heels. Our flip-flops smack noisily against the wet street as mud splashes up on our legs. Four awkward, rushed,
mud-splattered Americans, desparate to reconnect with the people they have left behind at home.
 
We cross over the bridge to New Cagli, single-file on what could almost pass for a sidewalk.Rounding the corner, we reach the computer store that we pretend is an internet cafÈ.
We burst into the door, panting heavily. Our hair is dripping and our feet are muddy, but we hardly notice--we made it, we are triumphant. And there is plenty of time left to read, 		 

compose, attach and send. Feeling the internet itch as well, other students arrive just a few minutes later. Davide, the owner of the store, greets us with a warm smile. It is a familiar Cagliese gesture. The people of this town seem to welcome us with patience and love. Our American ways are awkward, loud and usually rude, though we don't mean to be so.
Yet the Cagliese don't seem annoyed, only mildly amused at our strangeness. And we certainly are strange.

After half an hour of speed-reading and rapid fire typing, my fellow students and I must sever our world wide link and return to class. The brief communication we have achieved reveals the odd truth that, although our absence at home is noticed, life continues to go on as usual.I am strangely comforted and humbled by this. But there's no time to ponder--back to class. A quick glance out the door reveals that the storm has begun to rage again. Jenn's already darted ahead, but a few of us remain. Davide senses our dread as we look out at the rain droplets smacking heavily against the pavement, and he offers us a ride.

 

 

In America, we would be skeptical of this offer, but in Cagli there is no reason to fear human kindness. Davide drops us off in the town piazza and we make our way casually back to the Atrium. There is no need to rush now. Our mission has been accomplished--communication achieved.

 

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    Puddles remain after the storm