As I make my daily walk through Piazza San Pietro, gazing up at the columns that enclose the square and the dome of the basilica touched with gold sunlight, I pass tourists from every continent (except Antarctica, because like, who lives there?). The Piazza is nearly inundated with Japanese, Chinese, French, German, and Italian tourists, all taking selfies with their loved ones in front of the Vaticano. I can’t help but imagine the caption on Instagram. I hear languages unfamiliar to me and the mix of tongues has become a background of white noise for my walk to school.
One group stands out to me in particular: American college students. I am confronted with blonde girls sporting classic Barbours, Ray Ban aviators, and Frye riding boots. Their male counterparts are dressed a bit more inconspicuously in Polo button downs and Sperrys (better than the sweatpants and Nikes that are also a frequent occurrence in Roma). This is the group that stands out to me, perhaps because there are fewer American tourists in Rome (or so it seems). I think it is really due to the fact that for the next few months I am a Roman and these people are visiting for the weekend from Barcelona, trying to squeeze in all the “sights” they read about in their friend’s “Study Abroad Guide.”
At nighttime, these American students turn into sloppy 20-something year olds screaming “to the windows, to the walls, to the sweat drops down my balls,” unable to order un panino because, despite the fact they have been here for a few weeks, they still don’t know how to say “mushrooms, no cheese.” Why do I immediately roll my eyes at these people with whom I am sure to share 2 mutual friends? I find myself often embarrassed to be with other Americans here. We stick together in packs and make our presence known by screaming TSwift as we walk down the street. I get frustrated when my peers make absolutely NO effort to speak Italian, asking, “Uh, how much is this?” instead of the simple “Quanto costa?”
It’s not about who has and who hasn’t been to Europe before. It is about the effort made when trying to adapt to a local culture for 4 months or even just for the weekend. Yes, it is easier to stick together and go to the American bars off of Campo di Fiori (I am a victim to this scene at night), but there is something about walking on one’s own, wandering into a coffee shop and ordering “un caffe macchiato,” and asking where the shop owner is from.
There is something about actually living in a foreign city for 4 months instead of using it as a launching pad for intra-European travel. Yes, it is great to be able to go to Paris, London, and Munich at the double tap of a mouse. When else (besides, perhaps, our honeymoons) can we travel so conveniently to these places? Students living and studying abroad want the same thing: to experience lots of new things and have a great time doing it. So, let’s let go of our smart-phones, and wander alone along the river until an alleyway catches our eyes … or our hearts. Let’s head to the bar for un’aperitivo instead of a gin and tonic. (I’m even nervous to part with my dear friend G&T.) Let’s experience this city before we race off to others. After all, when in Rome!