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Computers
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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 |
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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. |
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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, |
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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. |
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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.
Return
to Top. |
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Puddles
remain after the storm |
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