I got off my flight in Bari around 8 PM on November 27th, Gerardo, my soon-to-be host dad, texted me saying he was waiting outside, but the kids were already asleep at home.
My heart started to flutter with excitement. Gerardo, his wife Angela, their three kids and I had been video chatting for three months leading up to this moment, this moment when I would join their family as an au pair for the winter. Stavamo scerzando! Siamo qui! They pulled me excitedly outside to load their car, two of them fighting for a seat on my lap for the ride to Altamura , their hometown, a small city on one of the hills of the scrubby Murge plateau, 45 kilometers southwest of Bari and near the Basilicata border.
We roamed inland away from the sea, by fields of olive trees and through the typical rocky landscape of the region. I let myself sink into the back seat, enamored by the witty back and forth between the family members, as I watched the fields of dairy farms zoom by under the night sky on our way to my home for the winter.
The 75 days that ensued felt like a lifetime. Quickly and fiercely, they made me a part of the family, and Altamura became mine. The walled, ancient city center dating back to the 10th century became my playground, and though the city counts around 70, inhabitants, what made this place so magical was the close sense of community I could feel even as a foreigner. No one questioned my presence and hugged me hard anyway.
My host parents were only about a decade older than I was, so it became quickly apparent we could be more like long lost cousins. We would get dressed up and go eat sushi and drink wine with her friends. Gerardo, my host dad, was a very busy manβan entrepreneur and professor, he was always on the phone or sifting through a briefcase, running in and out the door and flying up to and down from Milan. But no matter what, he was home for lunch on the dot and for dinner too.
