My Long Engagement with Trieste

Reading Time: 6 minutes

by Victor Caneva

At first we corresponded from a distance – feeling each other out cautiously. Was our relationship just a silly idea or something more, something that could transform and shape both of our lives? I listened to her stories with great curiosity and was moved by her beauty whenever I was fortunate enough to receive a photograph. My intrigue eventually morphed into intention – we had to meet. We would never forgive ourselves if we didn’t try.

Then, over three long years ago, I traveled far and wide to see her in the flesh. We laughed together, sharing jota in cozy buffets as the cold wind bullied poor raindrops that were simply endeavoring to fall to earth. We learned each other’s nuances. We fell in love. 

After meeting, our affection grew. Dreaming gave way to praying and planning and, finally, we set a date and picked a venue. We were going to be together for the long haul. 

But now, after having uprooted myself to be with her, she persists in keeping me at a distance. Our union is continually delayed for one reason or another. She remains as beautiful as she is elusive and, to be honest, sometimes my heart aches for what I thought we would have together. 

As sappy as this analogy seems, it sums up moving to Trieste two months before the Covid-19 pandemic rather neatly. Our move to Trieste was the culmination of years of dreaming, praying, and planning. We had eagerly studied the city’s unique history and cultural idiosyncrasies and had truly fallen in love with the Giulian capital on our visits. We had so many expectations – exhaustive lists of things we wanted to see and experience and taste…We couldn’t wait to start making Trieste home.

From the start, however, our time in Trieste has been circumscribed by at least one menacing asterisk. 2020, for us, started in late 2019, when my wife was told that a lump in her breast could be cancerous. Our first few weeks as residents of the city we had been so excited to live in were spent negotiating the healthcare system and Ashley being diagnosed with cancer. About three weeks after she started chemotherapy, school was canceled, and the first Covid-19 lockdown provisions began. With Ashley being immunocompromised, we have been and continue to be extremely careful during the pandemic. We have never had a “normal” day in Trieste.

As an enamored bridegroom would grieve his love’s impassivity, we mourn opportunities lost and the expectations shattered in this beast of a year. How we respond to this demoralization is pivotal. Do we let our dreams die under the oppression of discouragement and exhaustion? Do I let my love for Trieste grow cold because we both brought ample baggage into this relationship?

Perspective is crucial in overcoming giants like this pandemic. In my experience, being honest with myself about my disappointments, remembering the bounty of goodness that still exists in my life, and clinging to hope for a better future – whether it looks how I want it to or not – have been extremely helpful in weathering this storm. If my relationships, with Trieste or otherwise, are going to be healthy, I need to work on myself.

I would be a liar if I didn’t admit to myself that this year sucked. Some of my disappointments have been pretty trivial. When I walk past snug birrierie on cold, cloudy days – their warm glow calling me into their rustic stone interiors – I hang my head, let out a sigh, and keep going. I know it’s unwise for me to linger in poorly ventilated areas. It bugs me to no end that we still haven’t made it to an osmiza because we have had to be so cautious about taking public transportation. 

Other disappointments have stung more bitterly. Part of the dream of moving to Italy was for our children to acquire Italian while their spongy little brains are optimized for language learning. I moved to Spain when I was three and quickly spoke Spanish fluently, yielding lifelong benefits. Because of Covid-19, my sons were only able to spend about a month in school before being out for over half a year. It pains me to see my oldest son struggle with Italian in primary school when the plan was always for him to have the chance to learn in a more playful environment the year before. It hurts that I can’t give back what this pandemic has taken from my kids. 

My list of regrets could go on, but I would be a fool if I didn’t acknowledge how blessed I am in the midst of these challenges. I am mourning fractured dreams and unfulfilled expectations, but I haven’t mourned the loss of family or friends like so many others have this year. Yes, my wife – my true love – had cancer, but she is vibrant, healthy and strong, and is almost finished with her treatments. And Trieste, despite all the unexpected change and struggle, has retained her allure. 

It is said that the finest wine is made from grapes that have overcome adversity in their cultivation. Environmental stress requires the vines to produce molecular change, resulting in a superior product. Likewise, a lot of good in my life has resulted from the wildness of 2020.

If it weren’t for the trials of this year, I would not have experienced the humbling kindness of the Expats in Trieste community, some of whom shopped and prepared food for us without ever having met us. Similarly, friends from the church we had barely had a chance to attend brought us home-cooked meals and provided countless rides to the hospital, not expecting anything in return. For all they knew, we could have been the biggest jerks in Trieste, but both groups rallied around us, giving us a much needed sense of community. 

I would probably never have taken the ridiculously long and therapeutic walks that allowed me to know Trieste more intimately if it weren’t for having been cooped up for months in our apartment, Ashley’s chemotherapy schedule, and my parents graciously being willing to watch the kids. And while we weren’t as productive as we could have been this year, we will forever treasure the irreplaceable moments shared with our boys that wouldn’t have happened if the year went as planned. 

Although our “marriage” still hasn’t ensued, I have grown closer to Trieste in this crazy year. I have experienced incomprehensibly complex sunsets over the Adriatic that have stirred me deeply. I’ve seen the Alps surge like snowy sentinels behind twin castles perched on the rocky coast, and thanks to food delivery services and outdoor seating, I’ve continued to get acquainted with the exceptional tastes of this region.

Because I’ve had to wait so long to enjoy all that is Trieste, I am fortunate to still have so much to discover. I have resolved to try to appreciate each moment, big and small. Now I endeavor to appreciate a meal out, a simple delicious coffee, or an in-person conversation with a friend for the gifts they really are, not taking them for granted or counting them as mundane.

I hold on to hope for days when I’ll enjoy Trieste in her fullness, without masks or curfews or worrying if my little guy is touching his face after grabbing a handrail. I am still in love and will wait patiently, treasuring the moments of discovery and freedom we share in an uncertain age.