andiamo

Andiamo is my favorite word of all time. It's Italian for "let's go." The first time I heard it, I was sitting on my tour bus and Matteo was beginning one of his long language lectures. We learned "let's go" along with "where is the bathroom?" and "leave me alone!" and "how much?" and "do you speak english?" I had no idea how much that word would come to mean to me.

When the bus pulled out of a hotel parking lot for another unimaginably wonderful day, it was to a chorus of "andiamo!" When the bus unloaded on the beaches of Sorrento, or in front of the Coloseum, or the outskirts of Florence, we were dismissed with an "andiamo." After however many minutes of waiting, we picked ourselves up and brushed dirt from our skirts with a command, "andiamo." When we were cheering Italy on in the World Cup, it was with shrieks of "Andiamo, andiamo!"

After not too long, we adopted andiamo as our own word. When someone was taking too long in the bathroom, you banged on the door and yelled "hey, andiamo!" When you stood up from the table to leave, you picked up your bag with "andiamo." It became a tradition, a password. We never left the bus without it, we never set out for a new destination without it; we never began something new without our chant.

More than that, it became my motto. When I woke up to a sunrise over the Tuscan countryside, or the golden streets of Rome, or the traffic of Barcelona, I sighed and whispered "andiamo." When we set foot in a strange and not-english speaking town, given maps we couldn't understand, and told we had so many hours to explore, I glanced at my friends and laughed and said "andiamo." When I began climbing the 300 something stairs of the Florence belltower, I stared into the spiraling infinity and said "andiamo." When standing on the beach of Nice at sunset, I laughed "andiamo" and kicked off my shoes and rolled up my pants and dove into the sea.

It means "let's go." It's a challenge, it's a dare, it's claiming an adventure. It asks the world "Are you big enough for me?" It demands that today is better than yesterday. It has no place for fear and doubt. It announces "I don't know what I'm getting into, but I am going to own it, and it is going to be wonderful." It is my personal carpe dium. It is my motto, my creed, my oath. Andiamo is what I live by.