This past week was difficult in terms of getting back into my daily routine. After spending time with my best friends and having Ryan here all week, I was not only exhausted, but my motivation to start classes again was at an all time low. It took some serious lying in bed, a game or 67 of solitaire and a few cups of tea to get me going again. Thank God the weather has been nice here, it makes the walk to work and school a million times easier, not to mention that my normal “winter mood” is barely present at all.
This week we saw an Italian play for my Italian language class. This piece was a play by the famous Italian playwright Pirandello: “L’uomo, La Bestia, e La virtù.” Upon arriving at the theater I was surprised at the lack of ornate décor and seemingly casual dress that most were in. Something about the Italian theater that really surprised me was the lack of acoustics and surround sound speaker systems. In the states, theaters are almost always equipped with ample speaker systems that reach every part of the seating area, but it seems that here the actors rely on one or two generously sized speakers to project their voice, which was clearly insufficient. The Italian theater focuses very much on movement and stage presence whereas English/American Theater tends to direct the focus more on a poetic nature (think Shakespeare). While it was interesting, it’s not something I would necessarily do again; thank God I knew the play beforehand because otherwise I would have been totally lost.
One thing that I found interesting was the presence of children at the theater. This particular play had a plot line that was rather mature for kids who are about 4th/5th grade. Basically, this mother has an affair with her sons tutor and is pregnant with his child; her husband is neglectful and has another family in Naples so he refuses to have sex with her when he comes home every two months because he doesn’t want more kids with her. They decide to basically inject a cake with Viagra to excite the captain, forcing him to have sex with his wife like all night. All of this is about illegitimate children, possibility of abortion, desire, sex, drugging people, and having an affair. There were roughly 12 kids sitting in front of us, and during intermission one of the parents attempted to explain the plot. I asked my professor if these children knew about abortion, adultery and sex etc. and she simply said, “No, they don’t teach sex in schools.” So not only do these kids not know what this stuff is, but aren’t being introduced to it unless their parents say something to them. I remember being taken to plays as a kid in elementary school, and I’m sure you can imagine the outrage of an American public school taking elementary school children to a show with such explicit plot line. Cultural differences, man.
I thought this week I would discuss more deeply the topic of homesickness. There is a big difference in the way homesickness has affected me in past situations. For example, transitioning to college life killed me; I was depressed, missed my friends, felt the pressure of school, and truthfully wanted to kill myself. It took a lot for me to discover that homesickness can affect you in different ways based on the situation. Before coming to Rome, I figured there would be a little bit of a culture shock, I would miss my family, friends, and Ry; but here, that isn’t so much the issue.
I never realized how lucky I am to be an American. And no, this isn’t going to turn into a weird patriotic rant or some kind of weird propaganda. Today Kelsey and I went to the Hard Rock Café in Rome and started to get really emotional when those potato skins and spinach dip touched our taste buds (c’mon, I know you feel me on potato skins). As we waited for our food we watched all the music videos that were playing and all the memorabilia handing on the walls. There was a cover of Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” by Fall Out Boy & John Mayer (yeah, weird) but every Italian in the room began humming the melody; the same thing happened when Bruno Mars’ “Uptown Funk” began. We then talked about how lucky we are to have a pop culture of our own. Could you imagine what it would be like if your favorite song was in a different language? Or if (basically) everything they played on the radio was in some strange language? For me, that’s a terrifying thought; not because I don’t appreciate language or accept cultural variation, but it makes the idea of “identity” harder. For how often people bitch and moan about how you can be too patriotic or not patriotic enough, or America sucks and is in the shitter, or “Thanks Obama”, we are so lucky to live in a country that has its own identity, diversity and culture.
Lets also take a moment to talk about how beautiful America’s retail sector is. Convenience is non-existent here. I mean that. If you needed 10 different items to get you through the week (food, toiletries, clothes, cleaning products, home improvement products, electronics, shoes, etc.) you would literally have to go to 10 different stores to get them. It would take most of your day. If you get out of work later than 8pm (which most people here do) you had better hope that you have pasta in the fridge at home or you won’t eat that evening, because everything closes at 8. Whereas, in the U.S. you could take a one-stop trip to target and get everything you need for the week. Oh it’s 8:30 and you forgot cheese for the chicken parm? Just run to any 24 food store/Wal-Mart/or gas station and you can almost always get what you need. One of the best things I’ve ever heard come out of Kristen’s mouth was last week when we were talking about going home. She said: “the first thing I’m going to do when I’m in the states, is lay on the floor of Target, all day.” Truer words were never spoken.
So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not so homesick in the sense that I miss people. In fact, staying in touch is rather easy. But I miss pop culture, I miss convenience, and I miss being able to modify your order at a restaurant. I miss being able to get a salad that actually fills you up, where meat is put on your salad or pasta or sandwich and its not the weirdest thing ever, and where water is free, godamnit.
Probably the biggest struggle I’ve had was the first two nights Ryan was here when I had a strange virus or food poisoning because keeping food down was just not an option. While we were trying to fall asleep I started crying and said, “This country is stupid, and I want my mom” because when you’re sick anywhere at anytime, the only thing you need is your mom.
To conclude, I don’t want anyone to think that I’m not enjoying my time here, or ungrateful for the experience I’m gaining, but I’m at a point where my homesickness is stemming from feeling immensely lucky for being an American and not realizing until now what a profound influence we have on others globally. Of course there are awful, and stupid things about the states, but comparatively, were pretty lucky; as Kelsey said: “yeah, we really won the lottery of life.”
This week we saw an Italian play for my Italian language class. This piece was a play by the famous Italian playwright Pirandello: “L’uomo, La Bestia, e La virtù.” Upon arriving at the theater I was surprised at the lack of ornate décor and seemingly casual dress that most were in. Something about the Italian theater that really surprised me was the lack of acoustics and surround sound speaker systems. In the states, theaters are almost always equipped with ample speaker systems that reach every part of the seating area, but it seems that here the actors rely on one or two generously sized speakers to project their voice, which was clearly insufficient. The Italian theater focuses very much on movement and stage presence whereas English/American Theater tends to direct the focus more on a poetic nature (think Shakespeare). While it was interesting, it’s not something I would necessarily do again; thank God I knew the play beforehand because otherwise I would have been totally lost.
One thing that I found interesting was the presence of children at the theater. This particular play had a plot line that was rather mature for kids who are about 4th/5th grade. Basically, this mother has an affair with her sons tutor and is pregnant with his child; her husband is neglectful and has another family in Naples so he refuses to have sex with her when he comes home every two months because he doesn’t want more kids with her. They decide to basically inject a cake with Viagra to excite the captain, forcing him to have sex with his wife like all night. All of this is about illegitimate children, possibility of abortion, desire, sex, drugging people, and having an affair. There were roughly 12 kids sitting in front of us, and during intermission one of the parents attempted to explain the plot. I asked my professor if these children knew about abortion, adultery and sex etc. and she simply said, “No, they don’t teach sex in schools.” So not only do these kids not know what this stuff is, but aren’t being introduced to it unless their parents say something to them. I remember being taken to plays as a kid in elementary school, and I’m sure you can imagine the outrage of an American public school taking elementary school children to a show with such explicit plot line. Cultural differences, man.
I thought this week I would discuss more deeply the topic of homesickness. There is a big difference in the way homesickness has affected me in past situations. For example, transitioning to college life killed me; I was depressed, missed my friends, felt the pressure of school, and truthfully wanted to kill myself. It took a lot for me to discover that homesickness can affect you in different ways based on the situation. Before coming to Rome, I figured there would be a little bit of a culture shock, I would miss my family, friends, and Ry; but here, that isn’t so much the issue.
I never realized how lucky I am to be an American. And no, this isn’t going to turn into a weird patriotic rant or some kind of weird propaganda. Today Kelsey and I went to the Hard Rock Café in Rome and started to get really emotional when those potato skins and spinach dip touched our taste buds (c’mon, I know you feel me on potato skins). As we waited for our food we watched all the music videos that were playing and all the memorabilia handing on the walls. There was a cover of Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” by Fall Out Boy & John Mayer (yeah, weird) but every Italian in the room began humming the melody; the same thing happened when Bruno Mars’ “Uptown Funk” began. We then talked about how lucky we are to have a pop culture of our own. Could you imagine what it would be like if your favorite song was in a different language? Or if (basically) everything they played on the radio was in some strange language? For me, that’s a terrifying thought; not because I don’t appreciate language or accept cultural variation, but it makes the idea of “identity” harder. For how often people bitch and moan about how you can be too patriotic or not patriotic enough, or America sucks and is in the shitter, or “Thanks Obama”, we are so lucky to live in a country that has its own identity, diversity and culture.
Lets also take a moment to talk about how beautiful America’s retail sector is. Convenience is non-existent here. I mean that. If you needed 10 different items to get you through the week (food, toiletries, clothes, cleaning products, home improvement products, electronics, shoes, etc.) you would literally have to go to 10 different stores to get them. It would take most of your day. If you get out of work later than 8pm (which most people here do) you had better hope that you have pasta in the fridge at home or you won’t eat that evening, because everything closes at 8. Whereas, in the U.S. you could take a one-stop trip to target and get everything you need for the week. Oh it’s 8:30 and you forgot cheese for the chicken parm? Just run to any 24 food store/Wal-Mart/or gas station and you can almost always get what you need. One of the best things I’ve ever heard come out of Kristen’s mouth was last week when we were talking about going home. She said: “the first thing I’m going to do when I’m in the states, is lay on the floor of Target, all day.” Truer words were never spoken.
So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not so homesick in the sense that I miss people. In fact, staying in touch is rather easy. But I miss pop culture, I miss convenience, and I miss being able to modify your order at a restaurant. I miss being able to get a salad that actually fills you up, where meat is put on your salad or pasta or sandwich and its not the weirdest thing ever, and where water is free, godamnit.
Probably the biggest struggle I’ve had was the first two nights Ryan was here when I had a strange virus or food poisoning because keeping food down was just not an option. While we were trying to fall asleep I started crying and said, “This country is stupid, and I want my mom” because when you’re sick anywhere at anytime, the only thing you need is your mom.
To conclude, I don’t want anyone to think that I’m not enjoying my time here, or ungrateful for the experience I’m gaining, but I’m at a point where my homesickness is stemming from feeling immensely lucky for being an American and not realizing until now what a profound influence we have on others globally. Of course there are awful, and stupid things about the states, but comparatively, were pretty lucky; as Kelsey said: “yeah, we really won the lottery of life.”