We’ve been on a few trips so far, and when I am away, I say that I want to go home, what I mean is to my Viterbese home. But, even though I feel like I have a place here, there are still things that keep me (very obviously) from being assimilated. If I were Italian…
I would not forget to match my shoes and my coat.
I would not be annoyed when we’re supposed to leave at 2:30, and we leave at 3:55.
I would not love soaking my pasta in sauces.
I would not think that having a balance in the kitchen is weird.
I would not say, “wow it’s really warm” in February when its 55 degrees F.
I would not shudder at paying 250 Euros for a pair of boots.
I would not think wearing stilettos on cobblestone streets to walk my purebred dog for 3 miles is unreasonable.
I would not cry if my hair-dresser cut my hair into a mullet
I would not smile so much.
I would not be engaged until I was 28… right after I move out of my parent’s house.
I would not stop to stare at a 400 yr. old architecture.
I would not think it alright to have “no makeup days.”
I would not think it strange when Chinese restaurants bring rice and meat separately.
I would not miss sour cream or peanut butter, and I might not know what they are.
I could never be a real Italian, even if I tried. The hair, the skin, the nose, the hips all keep me from blending physically, but there are things that I could not do that would make me stand out here as well, and I think it makes me appreciate my time in Ohio.