By Nick Miller
Via Giraldi 4, my apartment for the next five weeks, didn’t feel like home when I first arrived in Florence, Italy. Fifty-one stone stairs circled in an upward spiral that never seemed to end. The ceilings stretched 15 to 20 feet high, the walls an eggshell white. The floors weren’t carpeted. Instead, tile stretched through the long halls.
The lack of sleep on both flights to get to my final destination didn’t help as I tried to glean some basic information from the American Institute for Foreign Study (AIFS) student advisor, Nick Stahl, who helped me move in. He presented me with a file containing basic local information and a tiny Samsung cell phone with calling capabilities. The phone felt like a toy in my hand compared to my smartphone. The apartment had no air conditioning.
After the advisor left, I flopped down onto the bed and tried to watch some YouTube. And I started to cry.
Arrival
What surprised me the most about my negative reaction to this new country was how strong it felt. “I shouldn’t be feeling like this,” I told myself. After all, traveling to new places wasn’t exactly foreign to me (pun intended).
I have been blessed with parents who absolutely adore traveling to new places and exploring landmarks, national parks, local food, and taking more family pictures than I’d like to be in. Every summer we’d go on a family vacation, about half via my mom’s van and half via plane and rental car.
I’ve traveled to a number of different places across North America, going as far north as Toronto, Canada, as far south as Texas, as far west as Hawaii and as far east as New York. I’ve flown to Europe twice before this trip, so why did I feel so out of place?
The most likely reason I can think of, looking back on it all, was the lack of connection and sense of awareness of my surroundings. As the only guy on the trip, I found it difficult to connect with the women and relax. I also didn’t have access to my smartphone in the way I would back home, since I didn’t have location services provided by an international phone plan, I was severely limited in my navigational awareness.
Cultural Navigation via Food and Friends
Luckily for me, after a couple of days, a group of students from a community college in California arrived in Florence and four other guys stayed in my apartment for the duration of their trip. In between classes, I started to hang out with these new people from the other side of the United States. My social isolation forced me to interact with people I’d never thought I’d connect with—both Italian locals and California natives.
It was through these interactions that I discovered the importance of food as a source of bonding and as a source of cultural routine. Italians value the practice of eating and enjoying food as a group. Almost every business when you travel around the country (outside of restaurants) is closed between noon and 2 p.m., and dinners typically don’t start until 8 p.m. at the earliest.
Because all food in Italy is manufactured without high fructose corn syrup and preservatives, things tend to go bad quickly, and since residences were well within walking distance of the local grocery store, Conad, I implemented a daily shopping routine.
Conad reminded me of Kroger and Wal-Mart rolled into one small package. It had only a few full-sized shopping carts, so most shoppers picked up orange baskets with the ability to convert into rolling baskets as they made their way through the closely-packed aisles. If you ever go Italy, I highly recommend trying paprika flavored Pringles at least once—they’re a European regional flavor you can’t buy in the States.
I can’t recommend trying local food enough when you travel. One of the most striking things about my trip to Italy was my reaction to the food. During the first week, I didn’t have one single negative food experience, and it actually made me mad. I almost couldn’t believe it; it was like I went to food heaven where nothing ever tasted terrible. Even the Italian version of cheese puffs tasted better than the American Cheetos I was used to.
A guilty pleasure of mine was trying variants of spaghetti carbonara. The best way to describe the food is breakfast spaghetti, as weird as it sounds. The pasta is cooked in an egg-based sauce and dusted with cheese, black pepper, and guanciale, an Italian section of pork that tastes like bacon. Depending on where you go, the consistency, texture and overall taste sensation was noticeable but pleasurable.
If you’re feeling more adventurous and budget isn’t a primary concern, I highly recommend trying a Florentine steak at least once. The meat is aged for a minimum of two weeks and is sourced exclusively from the Tuscany region in Italy. In the last week of my trip, I ate cheaply so I could afford one (mine was 45 euro), and enjoyed it immensely.
On that note, if your budget is a primary concern (like it was mine), I’ve found cooking at home to be a solid replacement. Clint, my 27-year-old roommate, became a good friend of mine. He hosted group dinner cooking events at my apartment for the rest of the people on his trip and because of this, I wanted to start cooking more things on my own.
You can buy fresh, incredible cheese and crackers for next to nothing, and I remember having many meat and cheese plates for impromptu meals. I’d go to the Conad to pick up Coca-Cola and a couple 1.5 liter bottles of water, and then walk to the convenience store near my apartment to pick up some cheese and meat. I’d then slice the Swiss and Gouda cheese into cubes, and fresh mozzarella into thick cuts, and place a number of crackers next to them accordingly.
Pasta is also extremely cheap. I’d buy a 500-gram bag of pasta rotini at the Conad for 31 cents, and parmesan cheese was always the most expensive item on my list. I became a fan of cooking tortellini filled with prosciutto crudo and topping it with some fresh bolognese sauce.
Gelato is another fantastic treat to have on a hot summer’s day, and you can regularly find gelaterias selling cones for as little as one euro. In the middle of most of my film classes, my professor would give us a 15-minute break, and I’d find myself routinely leaving the study center to visit the Gelateria LaCarraia to pick up a tiny cone. Chocolate was my flavor of choice after sampling a couple of their other flavors.
Final Thoughts
The first week of my study abroad trip was, arguably, the hardest transition for me, and it felt remarkably similar to the first week of college (moving into a new space, navigating a foreign environment, social isolation and feeling homesick). However, the trip helped me further my personal growth, improved my proficiency in a foreign language (even though I spoke extremely limited Italian at the time), and made me notice how fast American society moves (especially the meals).
I still occasionally keep in contact with Clint, my friend I mentioned earlier, and I’m working on expanding my current cooking skills further (so far I’ve made amazing cheddar omelets and steak for the first time). This experience has not only prepared me for life, but also for the next couple of trips. This coming winter, I’ll be studying Mayan ruins in Mexico, and then augmented reality, virtual reality and special effects in New Zealand.
The number one thing my Florence trip taught me was how to savor the little things. With extended meal periods and the combined forces of limited cell service and lack of Wi-Fi, it guided people to put down their phones and have genuine conversations across delicious, slow food.
Comments