To immerse yourself completely into another culture is not something many Americans ever get the chance to do, so I was eager to jump at the opportunity presented to me through the University's International Studies Office to experience both the pleasures and difficulties of life in Italy. So far this honestly has been one of the best experiences of my life.
Now that I look back upon it, the moment I first set foot in Milan served as a great indicator for things to come. I was struck by both the foul air and the smell of a nearby panini stand at the same time. In front of me stood a giant colorful sculpture that I didn't understand in the middle of a busy piazza full of angry motorists (who all have a immense love of their car-horns). People walked by me wearing things I had never seen before - completely clear sunglasses top the list (does walking really require a windshield?). And lastly, I was loaded down with bags and had no idea how the heck to get where I needed to go. That last part would change, but the rest of it is all part of the city's intangible atmosphere to which I had to acclimate.
The home situation was difficult at first. I live in an apartment on the outskirts of town with two 29-year-old Italians and another American in my program. The Italians' idea of sharing an apartment is a far cry from what I was used to in Lambeth last semester. There is no dryer, so we have to share limited hanging space. There is only one bathroom. Almost as a rule we eat a home cooked dinner together every night, and it always has at least three courses. We split up the work evenly and because I can't even cook things that say "no preparation required" I instead do the dishes every night.
The food is much different as well, but not in an adjustment-requiring, culture-shock sort of way. It's amazingly good, yet also amazingly complex. There is so much more to pasta than I ever could have guessed - so much so that at first the Italian pickyness with it seemed snobby. It is a complete faux-pas to mix the wrong shape of noodles with the wrong type of sauce (I'd give an example but I haven't figured it out yet). Some friends have Italian roommates that have let them get away with mixing and matching, but only reluctantly and with a look that said "Don't tell anyone we ate this." I get the feeling that to the Milanese, and to the Italians in general, food is an art - as is fashion, language and most other things in life.
What I like best about Milan, though, is not what you would normally think of when discussing Italy. It's the fact that this trip isn't just about eating good food and drinking lots of red wine, but rather getting my hands in the dirt and learning what it is really like here. I live in an unpopular section of town where most of my neighbors are Moroccan immigrants. There is a bar next door to my building where a group of them hang out, and to tell you the truth I avoided it for a while. One day though, when I missed dinner and the Pizzeria across the street was closed, I was sort of forced to enter the bar looking for a bite to eat. I was greeted so warmly that I've been back since. I now know the bar owner by name and when I see the clientele in the street I don't have to walk fast, look away and feel afraid of running into Milan's well reputed al-Qaeda ties (which actually are a very serious concern for everyone on my program).
There are other benefits of being thrown into Italian society headfirst. Most of my best friends here are Italian. My language ability is skyrocketing and I'm starting an internship with a small Milanese finance firm where English is not spoken. I have the opportunity to take classes at the well known Universit
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