My Italian Adventures, T-Minus 37 Days

So, to pick up from where we last left off….

After settling into our apartment (located in southern Rome, south from the main river in Rome and south from the Vatican—look how wordly I am already becoming), we met up with Ricarda, an Italian woman from the school I’m attending assigned to look after MSU kids. She walked our tired little legs all the way to John Cabot University for a meet and greet. The food, a free dinner provided by JCU, was horrible, but I was too jet lagged to care. We stayed for a while, and then walked back to our apartment. This walk, by the way, is about 45 minutes. It’s long. And Rome is hot. Keep these factors in mind, as they will be important later.

Back at our apartment, one of my roommates, a girl who will be starting her first year at Staten Island City College in the fall, insisted we go for dinner. We walked and walked and walked and finally ended up at a pizza place. I skipped pizza, opting for the gelato next door. I’d been craving that ice cream since I was 16 and it was well worth the wait.

By this time, it was about 9:00, so we came home, curled up, and fell asleep.

Friday morning we met with Ricarda again for a fun filled day of orientation information. 

We learned a lot about Italian nightlife, including a substantial amount about Italian dating and night life. something interesting: All italian men say “ciao bella” (hello beautiful) to every girl they meet. They consider themselves the ultimate in latin lovers and especially love Americans because we’re only here for a short amount of time. So, many a men will hit on JCU students. The secret is, you should not even acknowledge that they are talking to you when they say ciao bella. If you so much as smile at them, it’s considered an invitation to come over and talk. So, unlike in the nice, homey midwest, in Italy, you don’t say hi when someone says hi to you. You don’t even make eye contact. If you wear a short dress, it’s an invitation to ignore that you didn’t say hi because clearly, your body language says that you want men to flock to you. If you do smile and the Italian guy does come over, you shouldn’t give them your number or god forbid, your street address, because Italians are also infamously aggressive. So, unlike in America where we have a “wait a little while” after getting the number” rule, Italian men will call as soon as you walk away. And continue to call. And if you give them your address, they will just show up at your house. Also, in Italian, there is no word for Girlfriend. There is fiance. You will be introduced as so and so’s fiance, even if you just met on the street corner yesterday because he said, “ciao bella” and you were wearing a skirt, so he came over and now you’re stuck. Awkward much?

Anyways, orientation also included details about that pesky little thing called “class,” traveling information if we want to get out, and other nuances. In between sessions, we had about a 4 hour break, so I hiked, with a couple other girls, over to the Trevi fountain. It is as beautiful as in person, but much more crowded. Also, I would probably refrain from throwing coins in. We watched as panhandlers, using a magnet attached to along stick, literally just put their stick in the fountain to pull coins from tourists out. 

After our last session, we headed home and bought cheap wine (1.39 euro for a bottle) and went out for the night. We ended up at an American bar north of the river (closer to the Vatican).

Six hours of sleep later, it was this morning. Beth, Mandy, and I took the Tram to a part of city where the big fashion houses have stores. It was the Sales, which are a biannual event in Rome that gets the locals and tourists alike very, very excited. People “queue” up in long, long lines and wait to be let in to Versace, Guess, Burberry, Prada, Dior, etc. It really is like something out of a movie, as the stores are guarded by men in dark suits with pieces in their ears and your entrance and exit is monitored as well as counted. It’s intense. 

I didn’t buy anything, because, and this is again important soon, I am a cheap girl. But, I did buy a lunch and only because things were desperate and it was hot, a water.

So, the fact that it is hot and I’m thrify lead to the sad conclusion of this entry. I refuse to buy water and until today, I’d only eaten what I’d been given–which was pretty much nothing. I’m still getting my bearings and frankly, everything here is so expensive! It literally pains to spend more than five euro on a meal. In fact, i still haven’t even spent that much. Since we’ve been out and about walking though, I also refused to buy water or a water bottle, even if it was too hot for words. I would just suck it up and remind myself that eventually, I’d be at the school or in my apartment where tap water was free and readily available. Well, that didn’t really work out because I ended up nauseous, trembling, and so sick to my stomach after three days of trying to live on the cheap end of things. Hence, the nice 1 pm puke in front of our apartment. Lesson learned? Yes. I bought the water and now I’ll just refill it. We’re also going to the grocery store. We’ve been to one already, but we’re going to try and buy sandwich stuff and snack foods. Although Italians don’t generally snack very much, we’re going to overturn that rule because we’re STARVING.

Tonight, I believe the gameplan is to go have our first legitimate Italian meal at a restaurant. Because I was sick earlier in the afternoon, I’ve spent the last few hours just laying around. I mean, there are worse places to be sick, right?

Catch you soon!