The soccer team that I've joined here in Trieste is called Montebello, and I absolutely love it! Practices are definitely hard, but the joy of playing is so present in everyone that the time flies. So far some things that I've learned are:
-put a woman in shorts and a jersey and it's pretty difficult to tell how old she is; I would never have guessed that the age range on my team goes from 14 years old to over 40 years old! I still have no idea how old everyone is, and I love that nobody really cares--we're all connected by our love of the game, and that's enough.
-the Italian bureaucracy really is insane. In order to play with the younger 7 versus 7 team, I need only my Permeso di Soggiorno, a sort of temporary Italian identity card. However. To play with the 11 v. 11 league, I need a letter from my school here, proof of residence here for at least six months, and my Permeso di Soggiorno. Once I have all that, I give it to one of the managers of the team, who then writes a letter to the Minnesota Youth Soccer Association, requesting either confirmation that I played with them, or permission for me to play in a different league, I'm not quite sure on the details. A similarly ambiguous letter will also be sent to Rome. After all that, there will probably be a few more random requirements, but thankfully the soccer season lasts all year, so I may be able to play in a couple of games before it's time to head home again :]
-soccer is soccer is soccer. Is soccer. Although I haven't yet learned the proper vocabulary to say things like 'shin-guards' or 'cross' or 'square' or 'back' or any of the other things we tend to shout at home, I seem to be able to communicate reasonably well by frantically yelling 'here here here!!!' or 'there there there!!!' And waving my hands around occasionally helps too. Despite the language barrier, we all know the rules, and the same skills apply here as in Northfield, Minnesota. It's true what they say about soccer being the Universal Game; it's also the Universal language.
-I like to get hurt. This probably sounds bad, but I don't mean to confuse getting hurt with getting injured--I've already been injured once, and I have absolutely no desire to do it again. But when you slide into the grass to steal the ball and scrape your knee in the process, that sting is proof that you're playing your heart out, and when you see (hopefully small) bruises the day after a game from colliding with the other team, as is inevitable, you feel a kind of pride in knowing that you put forth all the effort possible to win.
So far, my life in Italy has been amazing. I'm blessed with an amazing host family, great friends, and a beautiful city, country, and culture to explore. And although I've had a few tough times, I can feel myself settling into a wonderful rhythm of life here in Trieste. The last thing I want is to get lazy just because I'm settling into habits. Time is precious, and I want to get as much as I can from this year. My exchange student friends and I are looking into either Yoga or Belly-dancing classes, I may join the Photography Club at my school, and I'm working on my Italian cooking...mostly desserts :]
The point is, I want to get myself into some awkward situations. Some challenging situations. Some unexpected situations. I know that sounds weird. But it turns out that soccer isn't just good for exercise or fun; it also makes for some pretty good metaphors. I crave the scrapes, cuts, and bruises that tell me that I'm trying, that I'm working, that I'm living. This is not a year to play it safe and hope for the best. This is a year for a few bruises that will help me grow as a person and experience new things. And hopefully, in the end, win the game :]
I'm off to eat some delicious home-cooked pizza and then watch the big Italian Derby: Inter Milan versus AC Milan! I hope that everyone's having a beautiful autumn, ciao e baci grandi da Italia :]
Sara
