Reporter finds strength and inspiration in stories of refugees in Italy.
December 13th: “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I’m here. This is really hard.” I record these words on my phone, between tears and long, heavy sighs.
It started as a check-in with myself after a long day of traveling: an eight-hour flight, a two-hour wait in the airport, and a three-hour bus ride. All my anxiety, fear, and self-doubt quickly came to the surface that first night in Italy. I tried to comfort myself: “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. I have arrived, and I’m here.”
I was terrified to be alone on my first international reporting trip. I traveled to Perugia, Italy, the capital of the Umbria region, to observe how immigrants there were creating a sense of home amid increasing national and international hostility toward them. I only had nine days in the hilly, quaint city to report on this issue—and the clock was ticking. But the lull of the winter season, along with the chilly, rainy climate, fueled my dread to venture out.
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After two days, however, I finally found the courage to leave my apartment, which was only a few feet from Corso Garibaldi, the street where my story was rooted. Uncertainty weighed my steps, but determination triumphed. I talked to people despite the language barrier and crafted the story I have now.
Of course, there were hiccups in the process. I found out the day I landed that the restaurant I wanted to highlight in my story had been permanently closed. The bus I was traveling in—and all my belongings (except my phone and six euros in change)—drove away the night before my flight home after I stepped off to use the bathroom.
Yet the plight I endured, both in that moment when I didn’t have my things (not even my coat) for four hours and when fear froze me in the apartment, doesn’t compare to the journey the refugees featured in my story undertake. The words of Mara Moriconi, who teaches Italian to recently arrived refugees, ring in my head: Refugees come to Italy with nothing and must make a life in a totally new environment.
“It’s difficult to leave your family, your home, your country, your language, your food,” Moriconi said. Osman Taifour, Mercy, Judiete—who talked with me about their journey—all experienced this in the hopes of finding freedom and home.
When I heard their stories, fear wasn’t as scary. I saw, in fact, a testament to human resilience—that even when scared, we’re capable of doing incredible things.
