This week, rather than bore you with my tales of going to class and doing homework (that’s literally all I did this week, save for a brief exploration of the Spanish Steps), I thought I’d write about some of the differences I’ve experienced between life in Italy and life in America.
Weather: it’s currently still winter in Rome, but it’s not nearly as cold as the Italians think it is. It’s like mid-40s or 50s every day, and I usually just wear a sweater or a jean jacket. I get so many strange looks on the street from Italians who are bundled up in winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves.
Siestas: if you want to get anything during the middle of the day, forget it. Rome basically closes down so that people can take their afternoon siestas.
Traffic: I thought driving in Boston or in New York City was crazy, but boy was I wrong. Italians don’t really care about speed limits or lanes or crosswalks, and they park wherever they want. Their cars are tiny. Mopeds even end up on the sidewalks.
Strikes: apparently there are public transportation strikes about once a month in Rome, but they’re planned in advance and everyone knows about them. I have yet to experience one, but I’m told that public transportation shuts down for the day and it’s more inconvenient than anything else.
School Supplies: there are no margins in notebooks, and spiral bound ones are hard to find. Folders are just giant plastic envelopes.
Food: everything is so fresh and so delicious. There are no chain restaurants that I’ve seen. Even the American food I’ve had here has been amazing, and it didn’t taste as oily or greasy as in America (one night my roommates and I had a craving for french fries, and there’s an American place down the street from us). Taking home leftovers isn’t a thing, which probably explains why Italians have dinner for like 3 hours. Also, at most places, bread and water aren’t free. So far, the only thing I have a serious problem with is that the Diet Coke here does not taste like Diet Coke, it tastes like Coke Zero.
Elevators: either they don’t exist or they’re tiny and old. My apartment is on the sixth floor, and there’s only one small elevator that holds 4 people. It’s slow and the doors aren’t automatic (you have to be sure to close them or it won’t move). At school, there’s no elevator at all, so I hike it up to the third floor every day for class. That may not seem like that many stairs, but Italians do this weird thing where the first floor is the ground floor, and the second floor is the first floor, and so on.
Street Vendors: just like in America, at every tourist attraction there are guys peddling all kinds of useless junk, like selfie sticks and crappy umbrellas. Unlike in America though, these guys don’t stop once the sun goes down. When you’re out at a bar, they try to sell you flowers and teddy bears and robotic cats that dance to “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!”
These are just some of the things I’ve noticed so far, and I’ve only been here for three weeks. Check back next week for another article about my adventures!