Week One: Ciao, Roma
EAT, GRAY, LOVE
I will be the first to admit it: appropriating the title of a self-help memoir-turned-Julia Roberts film written by a late in life lesbian (look it up, I swear) for my travel blog is kitschy at best, but bear with me. I never claimed to be tasteful. Alas, I'm now writing my first post at the behest of my mother, as well as my own delusions of grandeur which lead me to believe that anyone will actually read this blog.
This hot mess arrived in Italy a week ago, and I've been in "GO" mode since the second I stepped off of the plane at Rome Fiumicino. My pilgrimage from Phoenix was relatively easy, thanks to my abuse of Z-Quil and an empty seat next to me. I was extremely excited to finally arrive in Europe. I've dreamt of studying here for years, and Italy seemed like the perfect location for me as it's known for everything I hold near and dear to my heart: cheese, wine, universal rudeness, and 2-hour naps after lunch.
Rome is absolutely spectacular. I REALLY mean it. My first week in the eternal city has been filled with awestruck wonder at its sheer beauty. The amount of history packed into literally every single inch of the cobblestone streets that run through Rome is astounding, and there's nothing quite like it. I've only explored a minuscule amount of Rome, but what I have seen has left me feeling like I'm living in a movie set. I've visited a few different historic monuments: The Colliseum, the Pantheon, and the Trevi Fountain, which were all indescribably beautiful.
I know that I'm coming off a little bit intense, but I'm serious--this city is unreal. I live in an area called Gianicolense, a residential neighborhood about 20 minutes outside of the historic center. The roads are filled with smart cars, vespas, and tons of dog shit. My apartment, Via Antonio Bennicelli 32, is shockingly spacious--which is necessary, as I have five other male roommates. Each room of my apartment is strangely decorated; my living room features a large poster of Buddha, while my bedroom wall is simply adorned with one random picture of a flower. We have three balconies, each large enough for a good 10 people to fit on. None of the bedroom or bathroom doors lock, the laundry machine is a disaster, and the water pressure rivals that of an African village, but I'm not complaining at all; it's a perfect place to live, and it already feels like home.
I've been having serious sexual relations with every loaf of bread, pizza, and wheel of cheese in sight, and I've consumed around 32 pounds of prosciutto. The food here is much different than that of America. Everything is fresher. It seems like meals are served 23 times a day, each containing multiple courses. On the first night, my roommate and I were berated by my program director for ordering a cappuccino directly after the second course, instead of waiting for the fourth course, which we both had no idea was even happening. "That's...disgusting...we don't drink coffee with pasta." He then made it his priority to go around to every table and point us out to make an example out of us as we awkwardly sipped the forbidden, horrifically offensive cappuccino. It was a truly inspiring moment.
At this point I am practically bleeding tomato sauce and wine, and I would have it no other way. Thank god outerwear is bulky because I've never been more in need of an elastic waistband. It's worth it, though. I view overindulging in vino as really just going balls deep into Italian ~culture~. I kid, when you're walking as much as I am, overindulgence is fine. At least that's what I'm going to keep telling myself. Wine is water in Italy. It's cheaper than water to order with a meal, and it miraculously doesn't give me hangovers (which, if you know me, you know that my hangovers feel equivalent to a 24-hour case of Ebola.)
It's around 4:00 P.M here, and I've just finished my first day of classes. My first week in Rome has been successful, and I'm really, really happy. I can only hope that the next few months go as well as this week has gone.
As for tonight, I have a bit of homework and then a dinner thing and then I'm busy trying to become who I am.
Arrivederci.
