Before I even started college, I always knew I wanted to study abroad. Going into my junior year at the University of Miami, I decided I would spend a semester in Florence, Italy. Although I was no doubt influenced by its endless supply of pasta, pizza, and gelato, I was convinced, above all else, that the small, richly artistic city would be a safe place for me to call home away from home.
Although UM offers a number of study-abroad opportunities, I was set on Florence. Unfortunately, the university only offers a program in Rome. After exploring my options, I decided to enroll with Syracuse, which has the oldest program in Florence. I would be living in a homestay with an Italian family, which would no doubt make for an enriching and unique opportunity. The program was great from the onset, and proved to be a truly immersive experience.
In total, there were 342 students from more than 100 universities around the U.S., including Bucknell, Colgate, and Harvard. I lived in a beautiful apartment with an Italian woman and her partner, who served us fabulous meals as we discussed the differences in our respective cultures.
Last fall, I spoke with friends who were forced to come home early from their own study-abroad program in Hong Kong because of the ongoing protests. Other acquaintances later altered their Sydney itineraries as a result of the tragic Australian wildfires. But when I arrived in Florence with my group in January, we had no reason to believe our program in Italy would be similarly interrupted.
Shortly after arriving, I remember hearing about coronavirus, but us students were constantly reassured the virus was only in Southeast Asia. We were told Italy was proactive in prohibiting travelers from Wuhan, China, the epicenter of the outbreak. But our illusion of safety was shattered in late February during the celebrations marking the end of Venice Carnival.
After a wonderful weekend visiting Budapest, my friends and I were on the train back from Rome on Sunday, February 23, when we started to receive New York Times alerts about more than 150 cases of coronavirus erupting in the Northern Lombardy region of Italy, where Venice and Milan are located. Three days earlier, before the Venice Carnival and Milan Fashion Week, there had been only five cases throughout the country.
We heard stories about students in Milan locking themselves in their apartments — the schools had closed, and their city was a ghost town. Some were scrambling to get out of Milan before the city went under lockdown and barred people from traveling. But in Florence, we were not affected. Everything still appeared normal.
That same night, after arriving home on the train, I received a text from my friend. Scouring Twitter for information, she learned there were people in hazmat suits transporting a symptomatic individual from the Santa Maria Novella train station in Florence. We woke up the next morning to articles confirming the first case in the Tuscany region. Still, life went on as usual. I attended my classes for the day, learning Italian and art history. But more cases began appearing throughout the region.
On the evening of Monday, February 24, the students started frantically texting each other about NYU suspending its program in Florence. Initially, it was just a rumor, but around midnight, it was confirmed: NYU Florence was suspending classes until March 30. Students were told to be out of their apartments within two days and instructed to head home.
We woke up the next morning fearing we'd receive an email from Syracuse with similar news. Instead, we were told the university would be holding an optional informational meeting about the coronavirus outbreak at 12:40 p.m. During my Italian class, the teacher gave up on trying to hold a lesson; all we could talk about was the outbreak and whether our program was going to be canceled.
Before the meeting, we received another email pushing it back to 5 p.m. My first thought was that the program's directors needed more time to prepare and assess the situation.
The cobblestone streets emptied out, and we heard the roar of sirens as morning turned into afternoon. Hospital employees in hazmat suits transported patients to a tent outside the Hospital of Santa Maria Nuova. Everywhere I looked, I saw people in facemasks. Coronavirus was the only thing on people's minds. I went to my favorite salad and panini place, The Oil Shoppe, shortly after noon expecting a long wait. I was the only one there — it was clear the virus had placed a stranglehold on Italy.
After much anticipation, it was finally time for our 5 p.m. meeting. Although it was optional, it seemed every student was in attendance. Because the small classroom couldn't accommodate such a large number of students, they moved us all to the campus courtyard. We gathered outside around a speaker system, initially laughing about the absurdity of what was happening. However, two minutes later we were informed Syracuse was canceling the program after a brief six weeks. We would have to leave the country in the next five days or risk being quarantined in Florence for the foreseeable future. The students were dumbfounded. One even blurted out, "How am I supposed to fly home so last minute... I can't afford that!"
People soon began crying, trying to grasp that they were being forced to leave Italy, the place that they had anticipated spending four months in. While trying to find flights home and pack up our suitcases, many of us started to worry about whether or not we would receive academic credit for the semester.
While many go abroad for new experiences and cultural immersion, academic credit is just as important in order to graduate on time. We were assured we could complete the semester via online classes and assignments. University representatives also presented the idea of students returning to Syracuse's main campus in New York if they chose to do so, but many scoffed at that option.
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to New Times Broward-Palm Beach's mission. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling South Florida's stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
I thought of flying to another country before returning home, but the fear of being quarantined ultimately crushed my dreams of traveling. I bought the cheapest ticket I could find to New York City, but as I was boarding, the flight was canceled. I was stuck in Florence.
The small Florence-Peretola airport could not seem to handle the influx of international students trying to leave the country. Lines were not moving — it seemed every flight out of Florence was canceled without explanation. Without many viable options, I ultimately decided to fly to London and hopefully return to the U.S. from there. Finally, after a long day of waiting, I departed Florence around 8:30 p.m., rejoicing that I had made it out.
By now, it seems as though the majority of students in my program have made it home. Back in Florida, I am waiting until March 16 to begin online classes to finish the semester. While at first it seemed premature for Syracuse to cancel our program, I now feel that the university made the correct decision.
Although I thought I would be living in Florence until the beginning of May, I am grateful for the small taste of Italy I was able to experience. More importantly, we worry about the future of Florence. We grew to love the city and had grown to appreciate stores and restaurants that we could call our favorites. We just hope these places do not go out of business with the whole country on lockdown, just as we hope Miami can ultimately make it through whatever comes next.