Homesick for Pancakes

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I would like to preface this post by saying that I think homesickness is just a part of living far from home. Everyone experiences it a bit every once in a while. There are harder times and easier times, but I am lucky to have family and friends who support me from near and far, and I feel their love every day.

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In the Fall of 2016, I was a senior in high school applying to college. I applied all over the United States, but mostly to California schools. In the spring of 2017, I had received college decisions and I made my decision mostly based on distance to home. 

Almost every college senior can’t wait to leave home, to live far away from their parents. I was the opposite. I was terrified. Not because I was extremely dependent on my family, but because I would be far from my support system. The fact that the four of us always lived far away from our extended family made us very close: it was the four of us against the world. We did everything together and we had so much fun doing it.

 I purposely chose Berkeley over UCLA because Berkeley was close to home – just a 1.5 hr drive away. It was manageable. In the end, I enjoyed my college experience and loved coming home for the weekend to eat Sunday morning pancakes, to hang out with Chiara, Mom and Dad, or to spend time at home in my own bed.

Then, when I was considering moving to Italy, the fact that it was a 12-hour plane ride (minimum) away didn’t even cross my mind as a potential issue. Plus, my aunts and uncles were close enough to the university and I knew Rome very well. It was like I was going to my other ‘home’. I didn’t fear potential homesickness because I thought it’d never come.

But the homesickness did eventually hit me and boy, did it hit me hard. I woke up one Sunday morning missing pancakes.

"I woke up one Sunday morning missing pancakes."

While I wasn’t (and I’m currently not) living alone, I still felt that I was in Italy ‘alone’, and sometimes that was overwhelming, and it often still is. What makes it worse is the 9-hour time difference between Italy and California. I get a specific window during which I can talk to the people I love the most: between 5-10 pm Rome time if I’m lucky, and I have to hope it coincides with a free window during their day.

People might say, what’s the big deal? You hear them once a day that’s enough, right? For any Italian family, it’s hard. Italian families are pretty connected and always in each other’s business. Kids call their parents often and parents often call their kids. “I love you’s” are exchanged in the form of “What did you eat today” and “Do you have a jacket, it’s cold outside”. The Italian culture is family centered, caring, and nurturing. Your family is who you can depend on.

Every time I take a morning exam, all my colleagues immediately call their parents to share the good news that we passed. I wait about seven hours to call my parents, if they don’t call me first because they’ve stayed up all night worrying. The people I love the most are half way across the globe and we’re both missing out on important things in our lives. While I get ‘homesick’, they get ‘Francesca-sick’.

"While I get ‘homesick’, they get ‘Francesca-sick’."

While I get homesick for my family, I also get homesick for familiar foods, places, and things. Like pancakes, french toast, bagels, hamburgers, Costco, and wide streets. Much to my friends' delight, I've managed to recreate some of the American foods that I miss the most. In fact, we look forward to having pancake or french toast nights after long study sessions. They love my pancakes because they're particularly fluffy. So, at the end of a hard study day, we make the pancake batter together and have a comforting breakfast for dinner.

Being far from my immediate family meant that I had to build a small support system at school. I’ve been very lucky to have made some wonderful friends over the past 3 years in Italy. I’ve met their families while we all study together for exams. Their families have adopted me and treat me like one of their own kids, feeding me 3 times a day for weeks, during our long study sessions. They spoil me and worry about me too.

My aunts and uncles dote on me on weekends when I visit them in Lariano and they prepare all my favorite foods. They call me often and text me to see how I'm doing and they're always ready to help me when I need it. My great aunt helps me do my laundry, and she packs up leftovers for me to take back to my dorm. I am very lucky and very loved.  

Mom, Dad, and Chiara call me every single day. All three of them. They never miss a day, and if we can’t call, we exchange what we like to call “POLs” or “Proof of Life” texts.

And on days when I feel particularly homesick, I make pancakes.