'You going to Italy? You're disgusted by pasta, you don't like pizza and boarding the plane all alone is quite a drama.' That's just said to you, but it was the truth. In my case, six months in Italy was an announcement that most people made fun of, but it really was, and I went. Something with come, vidi, vici but different. 'And what are you going to eat there? Brown sandwiches with cheese?' Well, Italy is more than just pizza, pasta and handsome men.
I sometimes experience crazy things, which I usually take care of myself, but when I decided to leave for Italy for six months, I had almost everyone in my vicinity happy. It all started after my HAVO exam and at the start of my new study.

Off the beat
Just a look back: instead of five years, it took me six years to complete my HAVO career, so after that sixth year I had had enough. Nevertheless, I started a new education because it was also advised by the school. A gap year would make me get out of sync and that wouldn't be a good idea. In good spirits I started an English course, but I wanted to travel! After a while of deliberation it happened: I stopped the training and I went.
Au pair in Italy
I wanted to go somewhere warm and not too far away so that I could easily return home in case of an emergency. I was only a "little thing" in my parents' (and my own) eyes. She didn't seem like a good idea to go somewhere all by herself on spec. That's why I chose the middle ground: au pair in Italy. You often hear the most magical stories about this with huge houses, the most luxurious lives and one big party every day.
Welcome
I ended up in a real Italian family with two children, a boy and a girl, two dogs, a small and a large one, two parents, a father and a mother and many, many other relatives. From day one I felt at home and welcome. I set foot on Italian soil and from the first second it felt more like my home than the Netherlands.
Ciao and thanks
An hour after my arrival in Italy I suddenly spoke Italian, Hello said in thanks that, and I drove with my new family through a landscape that could easily be seen in Dutch pizza or pasta commercials. Mommy blared, including the Italian hand, down the phone to let the local restaurant know we were coming. In the back seat my new brother and sister were looking at me wide-eyed. They asked me in their best English if I was hot too. Not warm, but with those 15 degrees at the end of January I would get through the last moments of winter.

Still driving through the advertising landscape, we approached a dilapidated church. Before I knew it, I was inside singing Italian psalms as if I were sitting at the front of the church three times every Sunday. After we had all collected our host, and I had been initiated into the family in a special way, we drove on to the restaurant where the pasta was already waiting. There I was welcomed in a traditional way by the entire family. They shouted 'Martina, Martina!'
Within 24 hours, not only had my name changed, but also my taste. The pasta was delicious. I was home and my adventure as an au pair in Italy began!
Photos: Martine van Groenigen



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