Some Words

So I've been here about a week and a half, so I thought I'd give a little status update on me. Adjusting to being on the other side of the world has been surprisingly easy, I think that just enough things are the same for it to not feel too strange. I mean Rome has running water and internet, wine and cappuccinos, hobos and supermarkets; in a lot of ways it's exactly the same. The differences though are pretty distinct, and when the realization hits it hits hard. The language, the culture, walking absolutely everywhere (so far I've ridden the bus only twice since I've been here), having zero fast food or movie galleries or tv. They aren't a lot on their own, but they add up quickly.

It was Wednesday and Thursday of last week when it hit me, and I was in a pretty bad mood both those days. The biggest thing was the language barrier. I loathe going into a supermarket to buy Pringles or whatever, I want real food from real people. There's a butcher, two bread makers (breadsmiths?), a dessert shop, and a general store -- all located on my street and within a 30 second walk. Not to mention all the restaurants. Supermarket, please. This is way better than wal-mart.

Actually, there's a lot about this place that's vastly superior than anything I've experienced in America. I guess the best way to put it is density: there's so much packed into so many tiny places. The roads are about 15' wide (that's two lanes plus parking -- Romans are insane) with shops lining both sides. The shops are about 25' wide and maybe 50' deep, so there's a ton of them crammed onto every street. Then, for four or five stories above them there's housing. This means that you walk down your stairs and suddenly you're in the middle of the shopping district. Below my apartment is said dessert shop and one of the restaurants. I've actually been in neither of them, but I can smell the food cooking as I descend the stairwell. But I digest.

For all it's advantages, it's still a place far from what I'm used to. Typically I'm fine with leaving my comfort zone, but I guess everyone has their limit. For me the biggest problem is the language barrier. I want to be able to walk into a shop owned by someone I've really gotten to know, hold a conversation about the whatevers for a bit, buy some things and go. Instead I just walk in, stare at the illegible labels for a bit, point at what I want and mumble incoherently. Then they give me the thing and scowl at me for being a filthy American. I wish this were an exaggeration.

I can tolerate this up to a point, and that point is about a week into living there. Then I get generally pissed off at myself for not being to talk with anyone. However, then I just go buy some ice cream and feel better. You would be surprised how much a little gelato with friends can help a sour mood. Or perhaps not, girls seem to have figured that out a while ago. And the best part here is that by the time you've made it home and up your 8 flights of stairs, you've burned it all away.

But I'm doing better these days. I've learned my abc's, I'm pretty good with numbers, and "hello", "thank you", and "excuse me" are part of my repitoir. Things are looking up for me in the Eternal City: I was even able to haggle for a bargain at the flea market today. And of course, having 21 of my closest friends here with me really helps, I honestly have no idea what sort of a mess I'd be without them.