Mia's Life

Stepping out of the high-speed frecce train into a whole new life I felt the sense of possibility. Straight ahead I saw my host family running towards me wearing smiles stretched from ear to ear. They hugged me tightly holding a personalized balloon stating, “Welcome Mia”. When we arrived “home” they gave me a house tour and directed me towards my new room which I would be sharing with my host sister, Irene. Their nona had prepared lasagna that morning for us to eat for lunch. It was such a comfort meal that made me feel instantly at home.

Fast-forward to today, Italy has been my home for over 2 weeks now! My family has taught me so many new Italian games that we play each night. We have home cooked meals everyday for lunch and dinner (that always taste amazing). We go for bike rides all the time. We even had a picnic on this beautiful hill 30 minutes away from town at Monte della Madonna. They show me all around town, highlighting all the famous monuments. We get our nails done together, go to the movies, get gelato, etc. This weekend they are taking me to the Dolomites. I am over the moon excited to experience the beauty of the mountains up-close in person. Visiting the Dolomites has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember, so I am ready to cross it off! I have heard horror story after horror story of appalling host families. I was prepared for the possibility of changing families or hiding in my room away from them. However this family couldn’t be farther from all the nightmares I was fed. They are so close to one another and have welcomed me in with open arms even calling me their daughter. I’m not so sure what I did to deserve them, but I’m going to hold on tight for as long as I can.

Padova is a jaw-dropping, takes-the-air-out-of-your-lungs type of beautiful. Each day there are markets lined up against the streets displaying the most radiant fruits and vegetables for all the locals to enjoy. There is something so magical about being so close to a building constructed well over 3,000 years ago while undertaking a random daily task. There are gelato stands at every corner trying to trap you inside with the glorious smells. Several kinds of trees spread the city embracing the different colors of fall. Just outside my new home, I’m treated to the stunning view of the mesmerizing Duomo di Padova. I think the best part of this new city has to be all the people hear to enjoy it. At any time of day, you’ll find the Piazza bustling with people admiring remarkable agricultural designs, dressed in effortlessly elegant attire, sipping coffee or an Aperol spritz, and enjoying time with friends. I’ve never met a city so full of life until now.

Although I have been experiencing so much of Italy and am creating so many once-in-a-lifetime-memories, not every moment has been a bed of roses. I am going to be very real about this adventure sharing both the challenges and the highlights. To start, the most obvious conflict: the language barrier. I am by no means the best Italian speaker, not even close. Which becomes a problem when teachers only speak in Italian, assignments are only in Italian, and although friends and family can often times speak English, it can get tiring for both people to constantly be thinking about what words the other will understand easier for a whole conversation. I am trying to pick up as much Italian as I can, but it is extremely hard with how quickly teachers speak and the variety of tones they use. I am starting Italian lessons this week again, so fingers crossed this will be the push I needed. In schools not only can I not understand what is being said, but I cannot physically complete work. The way Italian school is set up teachers lecture the whole class while students take notes or read from the textbook. I clearly cannot take notes if I don’t know what is being said. I can’t read from textbooks because I don’t own any. I am only here for a year, so my program decided it wouldn’t make sense to buy a bunch of textbooks for such a short amount of time. Besides a textbook would do no good to me if I’m unable to read it. In class most of the time I just sit in my desk trying to guess what the teacher is saying while the students surrounding me are being productive. Today I brought my journal to class so I wouldn’t be so bored. I wrote and wrote for hours about life ignoring the fact I was in class supposed to be learning. Teachers often ignore me in class because there is no way for us to communicate. I can’t even do homework because most of it includes textbooks, and the parts that don’t are covering concepts they learned last year which I evidently wasn’t there for. In Italian schools, students stay with the same class of around 20 students for all 5 years of high school everyday for all subjects. This means that they can build off of topics they discussed in years past and be assigned homework over the summer. Which is helpful for the teachers and maybe some students, but is a curse for any new students.

“The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it.”- Moliere

English class is the only time I don’t look like a fool wandering my eyes around the classroom. The students are forced to speak in only English for this class which means I can finally understand what is being said. If you ever need an ego booster join a foreign language class where you are the only native speaker. My English professor has been a shining light to me through all of this mess. He walked me to my class on the very first day, he checks up on me regularly, he talks to the other professors on the best approach to teach me, and he includes me in his class which is something no other professor has done.

Culture shock is a very real thing. I hear comments about Americans being over-consumers every now and then, but I never truly understood the extent until moving here. I come from a household where you shower after any minor inconvenience and don’t go to bed unless you have cleaned yourself. Sometimes I shower around 3 times a day depending on the occasion. That is definitely not the society-norm here. People often only bathe once to twice a week. Same with laundry, most people don’t have dryers. This means it takes a lot more effort to clean clothes because of air drying. People will rewear the same clothing item around 3 times before a good wash. I am accustomed to tossing any item of clothing into the wash after a single wear, regardless of whether it got dirty. It has taken some adjusting, but I am getting used to it. I knew there was going to be differences. I mean that’s why I left in the first place, to experience a new culture.

Although the actual learning and work aspect of school has been difficult, the actual people building up the school have been the best. On my first day, I walked into a classroom filled with students standing up to greet me. They all shook my hand to introduce themselves one by one. They have helped translate miscommunications with any teachers for me. They all speak in English when I’m around so that I can understand. In between professors the girls in my class will all come to my desk to talk to me. During break time they invite me to go downstairs with them. They have offered to help me countless times with school work and even offered to meet up if I need it. They have all taken initiative to get to know me. A lot of the girls even invited me to get lunch all together after school on Saturday. Having people there to support me and just talk to about life has really helped me adjust. They all are super sweet and I’m so glad I got placed in this class with them all.

Life will never be the way it is in this moment ever again. I’ll never be living with this family, across the world from home, attending an Italian high school. School only lasts a couple hours each day, so what happens before and after are what make the challenges worth it. This entire exchange, good and bad, are all contributing to the full experience and as my dad would say “character building”. Besides I’m not counting on class being this way all year because I will not allow myself to step onto any flight to Texas without knowing Italian.

Hope is the thing with feathers 
that perches in the soul. 
And sings the tune without the words,
and never stops at all.
-Emily Dickinson