So it’s been over a month since I’ve arrived in Italy. Looking back, I honestly cannot believe that I’ve spent a whole month in this amazing country visiting places I’d only seen in movies and magazines. The time has gone so quickly and I can tell already that as soon as I stop to take a breath, it’ll be November. In case this is the first blog post of mine that you’ve read… I’ll recap what I’ve done since arriving: struggled speaking with my host mom who speaks no English and I speak no Italian, got lost on the bussing system (more than once), explored Siena during the day and at night, found my favorite local bar (La Diana), sat through 6 hour Italian classes everyday, went to Oktoberfest in Munich Germany, ate a pretzel as big as my head, visited the world’s largest beer garden and park, slept in a tent for a couple of nights, explored Munich, visited Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial, stayed up all night at a McDonalds in Florence and took a test the next day that I got 100% on (thankyouverymuch), got lost on the bussing system some more, had dinner with my host mom and her extended family, made some Italian friends, registered for my classes, took a cooking class, ate some gelato and pizza and pasta… repeat, went to Florence, saw the Duomo and the David, went to #gelatofest2014, didn’t get lost on the bussing system finally, swam in the Mediterranean Sea (more than once), slept on the beach (way more than once), picked fruit off of a tree and ate it right there, learned how to peel all sorts of fruit, fought off Chipotle cravings, saw the leaning tower of Pisa, took a cheesy touristy picture, slept in the grass surrounding the Leaning Tower, ate a 9 course meal, saw some palm trees, drank a Mojito on the beach, hiked 3 and a half miles in Cinque Terre, fell down on some rocks, jumped off of some rocks, swam some more, visited Lucca, officially passed the intensive Italian class, met some really cool people, made some good friends and lots and lots of memories.
So I guess after being here for a month, now is the time for me to post a blog post about everything that I’ve realized in the past month. First, people in Italy don’t care about time. The bus is running 10 minutes late? Oh well, it’ll get here eventually. The teacher is running 5 minutes late? It’s okay, he will get here soon. Every clock in the house has a different time on it? Nah, we don’t have to fix it, it doesn’t really matter, I don’t look at it anyway. Italians have a very flexible definition of what is “one time” and what is late. They have no problem spending 3 and a half hours at dinner and strolling casually to work, even if they’re already 5 minutes late. Coming here, I think that was one of the biggest adjustments I’ve had to make. I found myself in the first weeks zooming past people on the streets, even though I wasn’t in a hurry. We don’t realize how quickly we do things until we are in a culture that takes their time with everything. Being here, I’ve had to focus on slowing down my pace of life. And that is especially hard for someone like me since I feel unproductive unless I’m overwhelmingly busy. I’ve had so much time for myself that I don’t know what to do with it. I’ve had to time read books, watch Italian TV (which I still don’t fully understand), go on runs everyday, and just sit on a bench and watch people. It’s an interesting concept of living a life that is so slowly paced and I’m still not sure if it is something that is totally for me, but I’m starting to get used to it and appreciate it much more. However, when I get back home, I’ll be ready to get back to my overwhelmingly busy ways again.
Another realization that I’ve come to is that I am capable of much more than I think I am. The language barrier seems like something that would be the worst thing about living in Italy. To me, it’s one of the best. It forces you to take risks, to not be worried about embarrassing yourself, and to try to communicate as best as you can. For example, on my third day in Siena, I got extremely lost on the busses. I had no clue where I was or where I was going and all I wanted to do was get home. I had two options… either be lost forever and never get home, or to put on my big girl pants and ask an Italian person for directions. I obviously took the second option because I am here writing this blog post right now. Even after only spending three days in Italy, I talked to this woman, told her I was lost and asked if she could help (all in Italian). She answered back (in Italian) and from what little information I understood, eventually got on the right bus home. In this stressful and slightly terrifying situation, I was capable of more than I thought. In Florence, after being dropped off at the train station and having no idea where in the city my friends and I were, we got a map (written in Italian) and ended up finding where we were supposed to go by asking for directions (also in Italian) and using instincts. We were capable of more than we thought. To realize all that you can do, you just need to put yourself out there and understand that when you talk, you sound like an idiot and be okay with it. It’s okay to talk in fragmented sentences like a 4 year old would, or just point at things and ask how to say it in Italian. As long as you’re trying to communicate, people will respect you and try to help you. I am capable of communicating, as long as I put myself out there and try.
As far as homesickness goes, I’m doing pretty well. There are parts that I miss, such as having a space that is totally my own and I can do with it what I please. Here in Italy, I have a room, but it still doesn’t feel like it is completely mine. At home, I throw my clothes where I want (usually on the floor), I never make my bed, and it looks like a tornado has gone through it most of the time. Here, I have to be neat, make my bed in the morning, and make sure everything is in it’s place. It’s probably a good thing for me, having to make sure that I stay tidy, but I still feel like I’m living in a place that isn’t completely my own and I have to respect the culture and requests of my host mom, which is fine because she is so cool with stuff. Another part of the United States that I’m missing more than I thought I would is the food. I find myself dreaming about Chipotle, Hartville Kitchen, and buffalo chicken wings. While the food here is so good, like amazingly good, I still miss food at home. There is only so much pasta you can eat before you start to want other foods. Naturally, I miss everyone at home. Luckily, I don’t have much time where I am alone and left thinking about it. I’m either at school with my people there, or I have my host mom at home with me. But in the moments where I’m all alone, either before I go to bed, or if I come home from school before my host mom gets home, my thoughts start to catch up to me and I think about everything at home. However, when I think about everyone at home… I hardly ever find myself thinking that I want to go back home, I just want them all to be here experiencing this with me. But obviously that isn’t an option, so I do my best to keep people updated with my life through this blog, skype, viber, facebook, and any other way I can.
So I guess I can sum up my past month by saying that this whole thing is about taking risks. Coming here was a risk; leaving (temporarily) everything I have at home to come to some place I know nothing about and living with someone I know even less about. Learning Italian and speaking to the Italians is still a risk I’m taking every single day; the word meat- “carne” and the word dog- “cane” are very similar and it is VERY embarrassing to tell a group of Italians that in the United States, we eat dog for dinner… Trust me on this one. Getting from place to place is a risk; you just hop on a bus/train/plane and hope that it’s going to the right place. But through everything, I’ve gained a sense of independence that I’ve never had before. Being in college forces you to be independent, but when you’re in another, extremely new place, with nobody that you know, it’s such a shock in such a great way. You’re on your own, you can do what you want. If you want to go out at night, go. If you want to stay in and watch TV or read a book, do that too. If you want to take a bus to Germany and go to Oktoberfest, go ahead. Take a weekend in Paris, there’s nothing stopping you. After a month here, I can already tell that this semester is going to impact my life more than I thought and help me grow as a person in ways that I never imagined. Being able to learn from a culture that is not my own has made me appreciate what we have in America, but also parts of life here in Italy. I know there is so much more left to learn in the next 2 and a half months I have here, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of my time here has in store.
Until next time, everyone!
Ciao.
So I guess after being here for a month, now is the time for me to post a blog post about everything that I’ve realized in the past month. First, people in Italy don’t care about time. The bus is running 10 minutes late? Oh well, it’ll get here eventually. The teacher is running 5 minutes late? It’s okay, he will get here soon. Every clock in the house has a different time on it? Nah, we don’t have to fix it, it doesn’t really matter, I don’t look at it anyway. Italians have a very flexible definition of what is “one time” and what is late. They have no problem spending 3 and a half hours at dinner and strolling casually to work, even if they’re already 5 minutes late. Coming here, I think that was one of the biggest adjustments I’ve had to make. I found myself in the first weeks zooming past people on the streets, even though I wasn’t in a hurry. We don’t realize how quickly we do things until we are in a culture that takes their time with everything. Being here, I’ve had to focus on slowing down my pace of life. And that is especially hard for someone like me since I feel unproductive unless I’m overwhelmingly busy. I’ve had so much time for myself that I don’t know what to do with it. I’ve had to time read books, watch Italian TV (which I still don’t fully understand), go on runs everyday, and just sit on a bench and watch people. It’s an interesting concept of living a life that is so slowly paced and I’m still not sure if it is something that is totally for me, but I’m starting to get used to it and appreciate it much more. However, when I get back home, I’ll be ready to get back to my overwhelmingly busy ways again.
Another realization that I’ve come to is that I am capable of much more than I think I am. The language barrier seems like something that would be the worst thing about living in Italy. To me, it’s one of the best. It forces you to take risks, to not be worried about embarrassing yourself, and to try to communicate as best as you can. For example, on my third day in Siena, I got extremely lost on the busses. I had no clue where I was or where I was going and all I wanted to do was get home. I had two options… either be lost forever and never get home, or to put on my big girl pants and ask an Italian person for directions. I obviously took the second option because I am here writing this blog post right now. Even after only spending three days in Italy, I talked to this woman, told her I was lost and asked if she could help (all in Italian). She answered back (in Italian) and from what little information I understood, eventually got on the right bus home. In this stressful and slightly terrifying situation, I was capable of more than I thought. In Florence, after being dropped off at the train station and having no idea where in the city my friends and I were, we got a map (written in Italian) and ended up finding where we were supposed to go by asking for directions (also in Italian) and using instincts. We were capable of more than we thought. To realize all that you can do, you just need to put yourself out there and understand that when you talk, you sound like an idiot and be okay with it. It’s okay to talk in fragmented sentences like a 4 year old would, or just point at things and ask how to say it in Italian. As long as you’re trying to communicate, people will respect you and try to help you. I am capable of communicating, as long as I put myself out there and try.
As far as homesickness goes, I’m doing pretty well. There are parts that I miss, such as having a space that is totally my own and I can do with it what I please. Here in Italy, I have a room, but it still doesn’t feel like it is completely mine. At home, I throw my clothes where I want (usually on the floor), I never make my bed, and it looks like a tornado has gone through it most of the time. Here, I have to be neat, make my bed in the morning, and make sure everything is in it’s place. It’s probably a good thing for me, having to make sure that I stay tidy, but I still feel like I’m living in a place that isn’t completely my own and I have to respect the culture and requests of my host mom, which is fine because she is so cool with stuff. Another part of the United States that I’m missing more than I thought I would is the food. I find myself dreaming about Chipotle, Hartville Kitchen, and buffalo chicken wings. While the food here is so good, like amazingly good, I still miss food at home. There is only so much pasta you can eat before you start to want other foods. Naturally, I miss everyone at home. Luckily, I don’t have much time where I am alone and left thinking about it. I’m either at school with my people there, or I have my host mom at home with me. But in the moments where I’m all alone, either before I go to bed, or if I come home from school before my host mom gets home, my thoughts start to catch up to me and I think about everything at home. However, when I think about everyone at home… I hardly ever find myself thinking that I want to go back home, I just want them all to be here experiencing this with me. But obviously that isn’t an option, so I do my best to keep people updated with my life through this blog, skype, viber, facebook, and any other way I can.
So I guess I can sum up my past month by saying that this whole thing is about taking risks. Coming here was a risk; leaving (temporarily) everything I have at home to come to some place I know nothing about and living with someone I know even less about. Learning Italian and speaking to the Italians is still a risk I’m taking every single day; the word meat- “carne” and the word dog- “cane” are very similar and it is VERY embarrassing to tell a group of Italians that in the United States, we eat dog for dinner… Trust me on this one. Getting from place to place is a risk; you just hop on a bus/train/plane and hope that it’s going to the right place. But through everything, I’ve gained a sense of independence that I’ve never had before. Being in college forces you to be independent, but when you’re in another, extremely new place, with nobody that you know, it’s such a shock in such a great way. You’re on your own, you can do what you want. If you want to go out at night, go. If you want to stay in and watch TV or read a book, do that too. If you want to take a bus to Germany and go to Oktoberfest, go ahead. Take a weekend in Paris, there’s nothing stopping you. After a month here, I can already tell that this semester is going to impact my life more than I thought and help me grow as a person in ways that I never imagined. Being able to learn from a culture that is not my own has made me appreciate what we have in America, but also parts of life here in Italy. I know there is so much more left to learn in the next 2 and a half months I have here, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of my time here has in store.
Until next time, everyone!
Ciao.