Thursday, 29 September, 2022 – Elias visited Bologna today. It is a 2-hour train ride from Venice. I talked to him today (see: my worry yesterday = call today) and he said Bologna is a nice place. There is more to see, walking around, and it is not as touristy as Venice. In fact, Venice has been pretty disappointing. Apart from the novelty of boats on the water to get from one place to another, Venice is the Biloxi, Mississippi of Italy. Which is to say, Venice is a destination for tourists. (Okay, a little harsh but it conjures a picture, doesn’t it?)
And while Elias is technically a tourist, he is not a typical tourist, and does not feel like a tourist. I am not sure how to describe it, or what better term there is for it, but I know why he is disappointed at landing in a place so filled with tourists. I also know that it was inevitable he would have this experience, at least a few times in his travels. Not every place could be Newquay or Arles, right?
I will confess that after our text exchange yesterday, I was prepared to get on a plane to see Elias. He said no, which I understand and accept. And I know, if I am being honest with myself, Elias did not need to see me as much as I wanted to see him, to make sure he is okay.
He is okay. He also is fighting a cold, so he feels kind of bleh all day. He is sharing sleeping quarters with five strangers who come in or leave the room at different hours of the night, so sleep is not deeply restful. He is trying to stay on budget so he weighs what he can afford as he walks by restaurants, and looks up the prices of museums and attractions. He is never alone and always alone; no solitude, but also missing the closeness of a friend to talk to. He is being social and having conversations with other people traveling, at the hostel but that is not the same thing as sharing the experience with a compatriot.
I am afraid I’ve made this adventure sound grim. I do not think that is what Elias is feeling. He did not sound grim when I talked to him today. He sounds determined as ever to do what he said he would do, except now he realizes the expectations he set for himself were pretty damn high, unreasonably high, maybe unnecessarily high. I told him that if he can recognize that at 22, he is far ahead of a lot of people I know, especially me. To come home with more compassion for himself, more understanding of what he needs to do to feel a sense of accomplishment, well, dayenu. (That means, it is enough. Which means, that’s a lot, on its own.)
Also, he took some really beautiful pictures. David said today that he wishes Elias would visit more museums. I know why he said that; the museums were a meaningful, enriching part of David’s time in Europe and he wants to share that with Elias. But there’s a reason so many of Elias’s pictures are of buildings and look like they belong in Architectural Digest: the buildings and landscape are the artwork for Elias. He has talked about wanting to design buildings ever since he was 7 or 8 years old. I think wanting to right the wrongs of the world has eclipsed (for now) the desire to give the world magnificent buildings, but you can see the attraction to structural design in his photos. He has created a museum of sorts, by walking around the cities he visits, recording what he sees, how he sees it.
