One afternoon, I set out to find the Museum of Modern Art to see a Frida Kahlo show. Not surprisingly, after I took the wrong bus, I got lost. I tried to retrace my steps--via l'autobus--and disembarked in the middle of a park. I found myself in the Villa Borghese--a lovely part of Rome which I had never visited. While looking for the museum, I came upon this precious lake where I saw swans, geese and ducks. It was a beautiful sight.

Why have anxiety about getting lost, I concluded, when there are such delights to be found.

This was just one of the experiences I had as I embraced the city I was soon to leave. At the beginning of the week, my landlady, Gina, came into my room to tell me that it was raining dirt. She stood in my room, showing me her coat, saying Piove la terra. I know those words--“it is raining dirt”--but I thought certainly I misunderstood her. Of course, it does not rain dirt.

Later that day, I looked out my window and saw the street and a car coated with mud. The next day, on the front page of an Italian newspaper, I saw an article and picture of what is a common experience here: Raining Dirt. Who knew?

15 minutes later, two cops on motorcycles drove up, prodded the valise gently, and made several calls on their telefonini. Finally, they turned it over, saw it was bottomless, and aimed it towards us so that we could see it was empty. The teens were more likely thieves than terrorists.

On the weekend of Week 11, I attended my first Weight Watchers meeting. It felt a little like being in a coop of chickens--lots of clucking in colloquialisms I have yet to learn. Also, the group leader, though friendly and welcoming, was quite overweight. The best part of the meeting for me, however, was at the scale. For the first time since junior high, I actually weighed less than 100! Love those kilograms!!

There was a sweet poignancy about the time I had left in Rome, with just one week left of school and less than two weeks left in Italy. So, my experiences took on an edge. I wanted to continue my mission of living as a Roman, but found myself breaking out in tears at the most simple sight. I thought--it is such a rich city, and soon I shall be leaving it. Ah well, sempre diritto, sempre diritto!

(For more episodes of sempre diritto, check out Week Five and Week Eight.)