“Stupid Americano!” wasn’t actually said to me (out loud) quite as often as I imagine, but nevertheless, it has been said once or twice.
This past week was spent making my body endure way too much trauma for such a short amount of time, both physically and mentally. I had my first taste of Europe during my four hour layover in Frankfurt, Germany. I spent the time talking and having a (legal) beer with some other people waiting for the flight to Florence-as it turned out, two of them turned out to be my roommates! When we landed in Florence, we took taxis to our apartment, which is the most delightfully Florentine little hole. The first two days were spent doing orientation for the school-exhausting enough as it was with jet lag, but we made it worse by going out to the bar and staying out a bit late. Add in the confusion of suddenly not being able to understand every single thing said around you in the streets, and it all just makes for one very confused body.
There are a lot of things here that are done differently and are taking a bit of getting used to. Our apartment has a manual gas stove, for example, and we have to make it a habit to turn it off after use. The fridges are smaller here, so we don’t buy food in bulk for the whole week, but rather just the next day. There are no dryers, so you have to hang your clothes to dry. While eating out, there is absolutely no rush-in fact, it’s rude if you go too fast. You’re expected to enjoy your restaurant time, and to ask for your check when you’re ready (we learned this the hard way-waiting for way too long after we were done eating.) Many places are closed for a few hours during the day for siesta, they charge you for plastic bags at grocery stores, and they are very careful about throwing away their trash correctly here. Many times, it is simply the language barrier that gets in the way-the workers at shops and restaurants will tell you something, and you won’t understand so you’ll hold up the whole line because you didn’t weigh your fruit, and then the people in back of the line mutter to themselves about how dumb American’s are.
However, I am loving every moment of it. Florence is absolutely breathtaking. My apartment is located right next to Santa Croce, and even though I pass this view at least twice a day, it will never cease to amaze me.
I like to take the path along the river from Palazzo Bargagli to Palazzo Ruccelai, and it is so surreal. Even though the streets are busy, one look at the river takes you to a very peaceful, beautiful place.
I love that here, no body is ever in a rush. People seem to be just enjoying life, and it’s such a nice change from everyone rushing to get things done constantly in America. I love that food here is a whole production, and that you have to sit there and actually enjoy and appreciate it (all while sitting outside, enjoying the view of statues and fountains.) I love that all the stores are smaller shops next to each other, instead of huge superstores that have no charm at all. I love that I have to take the time to look presentable even when going out to grab milk, instead of just throwing on sweatpants. In a way, I even love that I have to walk and take out a small trash bag every day-there’s a certain charm to it, even if the Italians keep yelling at me for putting them in the wrong chutes.
All in all, I am very much enjoying my stay in Florence so far. It’s more different than I imagined, but in a good way. I’m very, very glad I took both French and Spanish in past years-even though I don’t Italian, I’m finding that it’s much easier to get around because I recognize cognates. And even though the local Italians may find my friends and I annoying because we don’t know the customs just yet, I look forward to the day where we can easily mingle without standing out (hopefully soon!)
