Monday, January 28, 2013

Cultural Complications


Good morning from sunny Roma! Since I arrived, I have felt very much faced with complications and frustrations, and I am yearning for the adjustment phase that I know I will eventually reach. Some of these elements of “culture shock” are my focus in writing today.

My luggage was, of course, lost immediately, and I had to wait nearly three days until it was delivered. This was rather irritating, since my carry-on bag was entirely comprised of shoes, and I barely packed an extra outfit. If ever you are traveling abroad, I beg of you not to make this same mistake. I was not very inclined to venture out and explore Roma before I had any of my belongings, understandably enough. So, I spent the first couple of days mostly contained to my apartment, while my roommates were mostly not.

Speaking of roommates, I did express concern over my living situation in my last post in which I was anticipating the prospect of living with others for the first time in quite a while.  Four of us are strangers, and two are friends from home.  Thus far I do not feel particularly drawn to nor offended by any of them, though only time will tell how our relationships might develop, and surely for this some co-venturing is in order.  On the whole, I am satisfied with our arrangements.  Our apartment is lovely and only a fifteen minute walk from AUR campus.  We are situated in the mostly residential area of Monteverde, where I can hear the conversations of Italian families through paper-thin walls and gaze at the surrounding terracota for hours.

I did actually have to venture out to the Salvator Mundi International Hospital on my second day in Rome in order to have removed some stitches, which had been placed in the U.S.  Finding the hospital was much easier than expected, and I found it to be a pleasurable visit despite that I was there under unfortunate premises. The nurses were old-fashioned, wearing headdresses in a style similar to Catholic nuns, and my Italian doctor was so lovely and kind.  I sat, content, listening to discourse of their Italian chatter, noting whichever cognates and recognizable linguistic traits I could. The environment was sterile, but the experience was certainly not.

This was the same day that orientation activities took place, and I was very much lost on my way back from campus to my apartment.  I certainly stuck out like a sore thumb as I checked each street sign, walking twenty meters before throwing my hands up in the air and turning around, making my way down the same streets over and over again.  I eventually wound back up at campus, where I found my roommates and walked home with them.  It was frustrating, mostly because I was in a residential area, but in most of Rome half the fun lies in getting completely lost.  I was lost again a couple of days later when I took the wrong bus, or rather, I took the correct bus but in the wrong direction.  Although this resulted in my missing an obligation, I decided to view this as an opportunity to acquaint myself with foreign parts of the city as I rode all the way down the line, and then all the way back. I do think it is important to view these frustrations in a positive light; such learning experiences are necessary in order to reach adjustment.

Now that I’ve been reunited with my belongings, I am quite willing to get lost – and to lose myself – in the city.  Today I start classes, with Italian 101 at 4 o’clock.  I am enthusiastically awaiting this course, since language difficulties have been some of the most frustrating of all so far.  Each time I go out I try to prepare myself for whichever social customs I should expect to comply with and whichever words and phrases I may need to use, but whenever I use them I am suddenly faced with a rapidly-speaking Italian whose vernacular baffles me.  Fortunately enough, the Italians are very kind and appreciate the effort I put in to speak their language.  When I went to the farmacia to get some toiletries while I was still awaiting my luggage, the Italian-speaking attendant was patient and cooperated with me until we understood each other.

So now I will try to prepare myself for another day learning Rome and the Roman way – expect a progress update in a few day’s time.

Ciao!

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Thinking In Transit


Buona sera! This is the Italian for "good evening," and a good evening it is indeed. Evening, it is, because I have already adjusted my electronics to Central European Time, so although my flight only just took off, it is 3:30 AM in Rome, and so, it is 3:30 AM  to me. And this evening is certainly a good one, for although I am an emotional rollercoaster in anticipation of my arrival in Italy, it is, above all, ecstasy and euphoria that overwhelm me now that transantlanticism becomes reality.

The last time I studied abroad, which is nearly two years past, my flight to Rome was disgustingly packed. It was summer, it was hot, and it was certainly stuffy. But now it is January, and our flight is scant in numbers. There are a few Americans, certainly some Italians, but we all have space to move. Most seats are empty. No one is in the seat next to me, which will (hopefully) be conducive to my earning some sleep this good evening. It appears that, while I did nearly miss both of my flights, we are still off to a good start. I imagine that I can expect the same general vacancy in Rome as I am experiencing on the flight; it is not tourist season, but rather, it is January in Rome.

This prospect, I think, is what has enthused me most in recent days. If I died and went to something of a heaven, I think I would arrive at the ethereal version of Italy in wintertime. That, to me, is idyllic. It is rainy and in the forties or fifties fahrenheit in Rome at the moment. If I thought the Roman ruins did not beckon me already, that weather certainly does. Not that I do not enjoy the below zero temperatures in Michigan, for I certainly do, but Rome still manages to tempt me with some of my favorite climactic conditions. It seems Italy is ready to welcome me home.

It is poignant to leave Michigan, mostly because once I return I will be graduated and moving on, and thus Mount Pleasant might as well be as distant as Rome is. I am very fond of Mount Pleasant and the CMU community. I adore the Midwest niceties, cruising down dirt roads, the simple life, the desolate feel of summer in mid-Michigan, the battles between four seasons, hula-hooping in frosty weather at Warriner Mall, and so on. Mount Pleasant is my home, and I am apprehensive to leave it, but it is not negative apprehension. It is scary in a positive and pivotal sense. I feel ready to abandon what feels comfortable. I feel ready to understand Italy, and to become a Roman, if I can.

What has been most disconcerting for me thus far is the lack of detailed information about my living situation while in Rome. I know that I will be living in an apartment within a reasonable distance from the American University of Rome (AUR) campus, and that the apartments each have either four or six same-sex residents. But I do not know precisely where I will be living, nor with whom. I suppose that even if I had been put into touch with my roommates in advance, it would not have made much of a difference, because personalities cannot transmit via technology, at least not with complete accuracy. I know that simple e-mail correspondence could not quite prepare my roommates for the personality that is about to hit them (ahem...that's me). So there's no use in complaining, and to do so is not my intention; in fact, I think it will be quite interesting and perhaps beneficial for my roommates and I to learn of each other right as we are shuffled into the apartment. But my point is that, as a fairly introverted and reclusive individual, yet with a very strong and assertive personality, the roommate situation is one that has most occupied my mind in weeks past.

In about six hours I will deboard my flight, search for the AUR group, head to AUR campus, then, if I understand correctly, our entire group will board a bus that will take us to our various apartments. After unpacking, I intend to immediately leave my apartment, return to familiar locations in Roma, and begin writing. I will be composing my first book while in Italy. The memoir will be a series of vignettes. That I plan to write it while in Rome is by no means a coincidence, but rather a plan of attack. I noticed a marked and dramatic spurt in my motivation and inspiration when in Rome, and this I found quite remarkable, since I am already rather a self-motivated individual. But Rome carries a power over me like no other entity quite can. To read and write about Rome, while actually sitting within the city, perhaps gazing at the Baths of Caracalla or Domitian's ruins or the Arch of Septimius Severus...these are acts that penetrate my soul and mind deeper than any lecture ever does.

And so, in Rome, my two goals, above all, are to speak and to write. I will be conversational in Italian by May, if it is the last thing I do. I am much less concerned with going out to engage in social festivities of the American sort than I am to go out and engage the Italian people, to perceive their nuances, their particular pronunciations, the rollings of their tongues, their slang, their intonation. I refuse to abandon any opportunity to absorb the Italian language in the next four months. Next to writing, this is my prime purpose.

And so I will now return myself to my Italian handbook to practice further my pronunciation before I (hopefully) sleep...if I can stave off the elation.

Ciao!