when in rome... speak as the romans speak, in ITALIAN

There’s nothing quite like going to a class for the first time. There’s nothing quite like stepping into a new school for the first time. There’s also nothing quite like flying into a new country for the first time. New experiences are weird. They are exciting. They are enjoyable. They are anxiety invoking and uncomfortable. They are butterflies-in-you-stomach raising.

Last week, I was able to gather up all these experiences, savor them and put them all under my belt as I began studying Italian (new class) at a study abroad program (new school, JCU) in Rome (new city in a new country). When I first signed up for classes here, I signed up for an introductory Italian course because it seemed rude not to. I mean, going to another county and demanding they speak my language, such an American thing to do; I was above that. I planned to be a polite traveler. Yet, I wasn’t respectful enough to sign up for Italian because I was interested in the culture.

When I finally arrived in Rome and began to get acquainted with the city, I witnessed the beauty of everything. Sure, Rome is big and dirty and confusing. But, the architecture is astonishing, the history abundant and the Catholic culture apparent—you cannot walk but 100 meters without seeing either a priest, nun or seminarian.

Catherine and me in front of the Trevi Fountain on one of our first nights in Rome. This city is full of architectural and historical gems, famous like the Trevi, but obscure and hidden ones as well, just waiting to be sought after.

Everything was beautiful, but the language, that is. Even though getting around with English and three Italian words I knew—ciao, grazie, and sì—is entirely doable, it is sometimes difficult to communicate, and always exhausting. I have four years of Spanish to work with, so I can read and understand it fairly well; responding is a whole other cup of tea. I began to realize that taking Italian wasn’t just polite, but would allow me to look ever so slightly less idiotic when ordering gelato or buying a bus ticket. Still, that attitude was totally ignorant.

Orientation passed, I became more familiar with my neighborhood, the bus system and this Roman world I entered. Classes began. When I went to Italian the first week, I wasn’t expecting much. I figured it would be like any language class I’ve taken in the past. But, learning the language of the country you are visiting currently is entirely different. My professor, Valentina, was both adorably Italian and deeply challenging. She told us, “if I go to America, I do not expect you to speak Italian for me.” And, it should be the same for me in Roma.

Valentina warned the class not make Italy a new America or our experience in Rome just an Italian version of America. “I know Italy is a magical land of alcohol, and you cannot drink in the States,” she said. But, she explained that it was so much more than that. She encouraged us to drink and enjoy ourselves, but to “open our eyes” to what the city had to offer. If we didn’t, she warned, “you are wasting four months of your life… and a lot of money.”

Not that English isn’t a great language, spreading across the globe more rapidly than ever—knowing English is definitely a powerful academic tool. But, while I am here I need to study Italian, and not because it is more convenient or less embarrassing, but because it is a gorgeous language that has a lot to offer.

An Italian man declared to me, “you’re studying in the best city in the world!” I laughed at the time, but I’m seriously starting to realize the truth in that.

On the way to my apartment from class, I stopped by the Vatican and snapped some photos. While he crossed St. Peter's Square, and cute Italian man stopped and offered to take one for me. When I told him I was visiting for a whole semester abroad, it was as he shot this picture that he said, "you're studying in the best city in the world!"

I have begun to open my eyes to what Roma, Italia is all about.

Ciao. A presto.