COMING TO ITALY, MOST OF THE IMPORTANT MEN in my life told me over and over—“Be careful”, “Be safe”, “Watch out for those creepy Italian men”. So as much as I want to meet people in Cagli, I’m a little on edge. I was automatically weirded out when an older Cagliese man approached CK, Jasmine, and I today and wanted to show us his home.
      Through broken English he explained his house was very old and very beautiful—perfect for taking pictures. Yeah, I think. I bet it is, you creepy man. But next thing I know, I’m trotting through Cagli towards his home.
      The strange-looking group of us stopped at a wall not far from the piazza as Romano slowly draw a key from his pocket and pushed a heavy door forward. His eyes were lit with anticipation, and I began to wonder what he was going to reveal.
      Inside was a beautiful garden, as if the Garden of Eden was hidden away in the middle of the rocky village of Cagli. Romono was even more excited to show us his home. Still reluctant, I cautiously followed inside.
      Despite our difficulties with language, we managed to decipher that the house was centuries old, and covered in beautiful artifacts. Stone palettes from Roman temples and Greek catacombs hung on walls, as if it were not uncommon to furnish one’s home with such. Proudly, Romano and his son Simone paraded us through the house. Their enthusiasm and interest in our reactions gave off a childlike happiness as they asked after every room, “You like?”
      Their home was beautiful and their passion even more so. Romano was a geologist whose entire basement was dedicated to books, sifters, fossils, minerals, sketches, anything to do with his profession. He proudly pulled books off shelves, pointing to pictures of a man barely recognizable as himself.
      Simone seemed completely taken by my simple phrase, “I have no words.” After seeing the house and attached apartments (we finally figured out they had hosted Cagli professors and students in years past—little less creepy now) he wondered if I would come back with Jasmine the next day and try to come up with words for what I was feeling.
      I left the Bon Clarici house— yes, it’s very official sounding: a Duke of Urbino used to live there, and now the place has its own freaking business card!— feeling I don’t know what. I was grateful for the experience, and overwhelmed by their hospitality. But I was even happier at the pride and joy shining through Romano and his sons’ grinning faces.

--Allison James
(Loyola)