March 29, 2011 - 8:11pm
Adventures Abroad: Exploring the streets of Florence, Italy
BY MALLORY BEBERMAN
Now entering my third week in Florence, Italy, I’m learning to call the city my new home. When I think about my feelings towards Florence so far, it’s pretty amazing that I really only have good things to say. Maybe it’s because I am still enjoying the honeymoon phase on the cultural adjustment scale that an overly eager psychologist named Mags explained to us during our grueling orientation. The next phase is frustration and anger towards the customs of a culture different from your own, accompanied by feelings of withdrawal. I’ll let you know if I ever get there but judging by my experiences so far, I don’t think I will.
When I speak to my parents on skype (my savior), they ask me things like “Have you climbed the Duomo church yet?” or “How does Michelangelo’s David look?” Truthfully, I haven’t climbed the Duomo and I haven’t yet seen the Statue of David. I know I will eventually, but in the meantime, I like spending my days getting lost in the city’s streets. I like to explore the tiny crevices in between the old buildings, read the graffiti on the walls, pay attention to the cracks in the cobblestones and take note of the street signs. I like to pass trattorias (Italian restaurants), glance at their menus, and listen to the Italians speak, the tone and rhythm of their voices creating a soft melody in my ears.
Everything about Florence is charming. When I went to Rome for a few days before arriving in this smaller city, I was overwhelmed. Amidst Rome’s wider, crowded streets and towering ruins, I felt small and lost. The city of Florence is manageable. Even though I can walk across the city’s span in one day, there are still endless streets, parks, museums and shops to explore. I worry that I won’t be able to do it all.
When I went to Interlaken, Switzerland last weekend, I couldn’t wait to go home. Home is not New York at the moment, or even Ann Arbor; home is Florence. A lot of my friends went sky diving, but me, the neurotic, scared person that I am, just stuck to skiing. Though I had the most exhilarating, fresh powder skiing experience I’ve ever had, and got to sip hot chocolate and eat bratwurst in an outdoor café on the mountain, Florence’s pulse called out to me and I couldn’t wait to return.
As I stand still in the Piazza della Republica, a main square in the city, and watch people go by, I feel that I’m learning about Italy, about myself, about life. But of course, I haven’t spent all my time basking in reflective thought. The nightlife is exciting and definitely unlike a typical night at Scorekeepers Sportsgrill & Pub. (Though I’m still convinced Skeeps is the best bar in the entire world). The clubs and discotechas here are wild. You do, however, have to hold onto your purse very tightly, as pick pocketing is rampant. So are Italian men, who are as persistent and aggressive as they come. Even our Italian professors warn us foreign girls to ignore them.
I’d guess I would say that for me, Florence is thus far everything I had hoped it would be. Though I may be a victim of the honeymoon phase, I’m going to ride out my honeymoon for as long as it lasts.
To read the first installment of the Adventures Abroad series, click here .
