Bella! Bella!
Thoughts on studying abroad in Italy one year later
Last weekend I was in D.C. with a friend, Sabrina. We met in Italy, when we were assigned to be roommates during our study abroad program in Florence. She sweetly visited me in Maryland, during which we spent a considerable amount of time reminiscing about living in one of the most beautiful renaissance cities in the world.
The day we spent in Georgetown, D.C. was idyllic, the last day of spring, warm and sunny with a light breeze. We walked along townhome-lined streets and popped in and out of shops until finally we came to a garden near the Potomac river and sat down together on a bench, the view almost as picturesque as when we’d sit on the stone wall of the fuime Arno.
As beautiful as the day was, our minds were elsewhere, back in Italy. We reflected on how perfect everything was, we’d bring up the mistakes we made and other tales of misjudgments, but could shrug them off easily. My friend even has her heart set on moving back one day. I suppose deep down I do, too.
This time last year I was just getting back from Italy. I had never been to Europe, and I am lucky because it was such a wonderful experience to be able to go and be a part of another culture and to live for so long in such a beautiful place. I kept an open mind, vowing to myself to never complain, and only try to be grateful every fleeting day I could live and study abroad.
It was winter when I arrived and was absolutely struck by how beautiful it was. I looked out of the French windows in my room with disbelief, I could see past the cypress trees to the city rising to one side and the countryside stretching out to the other. I longed for it all even when it was right in front of me. The gardens at the villa, the walks along the Arno, the daily cappuccinos, the beginner Italian scribbled on the green chalk board in the classrooms, the olive groves we walked through to get to the menza for meals.
The lifestyle was a perfect balance. I take my leisure time more seriously since coming back from Italy. No classes on Friday meant plenty of time to travel and I took long walks to anywhere I wanted to go, including meals and classes. Hours were spent chatting with friends in the center of town over gelato. Lazy days were spent reading on the couches in library or on picnic benches in the garden.
I read so many good books while I was abroad. Books like East of Eden and Giovanni’s Room reshaped my mind during that time. I ended up leaving all my books (except my prized possession which is Oliver’s Devotions) in the small library where I spent so many hours reading. Before I left, the small library consisted mostly of bibles and different Italian dictionaries and grammar books. I didn’t find a single book of fiction in English. So I hope that since then these Italian summer book essentials are reread again and again— I now regret not leaving a note in the covers.
It didn’t take long to connect with Sabrina. I love reminiscing about the highly rated restaurants she would find for us, joking about the men who always yelled across the street to her, bella!! bella!! they would call. One day in May, a friend and I planned to meet up with her in Cinque Terre. However, at our meeting spot in Vernazza there was huge crowd of maybe a thousand people around the rocky coast and boats and old buildings, but there she was, standing out in a crowd of people as the most gorgeous and best dressed, looking out to the sea.
She knew me best while I was in Italy. As we walked in D.C. it’s dawned on us how silly it is that even though we’ve lived in the US our entire lives, we wouldn’t have known each other if it wasn’t for a small red-tiled room in Florence. How ideally everything seemed to come together.
But as with all things, studying abroad wasn’t perfect. Italy couldn’t be perfect and above all I couldn’t be. There were so many lessons to be learned. And now I am just grateful to have learned them. Most of all I think there were times when I took things too seriously, and those six months helped me get over that.
In Italy, I started seeing someone. And shortly after we started dating, everyone seemed to have an opinion about my relationship, including people I knew from University back home. But I started thinking that perhaps my reaction to the gossip showed that I was being overly vain. I certainly cared too much what people thought of me and felt bitter towards friends who I assumed were spreading gossip. Of course, I wish I could control the narrative all the time. Slowly, I let go of the desire to explain myself.
After all, that relationship did not last. After a few months of dating after I left Italy, I had to leave this part of my life behind me— he had found someone else. And as devastating as that was, I think the hardest part was letting go of the part of my life that was connected to Italy, and all I had to officially leave behind there. Even this, the drawn out romance ending in betrayal, feels now like a unique keepsake from my time spent abroad. As though I’d really gotten what I paid for— a souvenir magnet on the fridge of my heart.
Another lesson learned, I’m tired of chasing romance wherever I go, and I hope, pray, to never have to do that again. I have something better and stable now. And although gossip and miscommunication remains a terrible strain on friendships, it’s important to move on, communicate, and trust instincts. Gossip changes very little. Life goes on the same with or without it— it may have echoed in my head, but it never affected my decisions. Let your defenses down and laugh at yourself.
I made many other mistakes, especially when traveling. I would miss my buses, accidentally chosen an airport an hour away from the Barcelona, and only after insisting upon the goodness of Italian commuters would I ever find my way to my train platform. But over the course of the trip my confidence grew. Now I feel more independent and capable than ever before.
Nonetheless, it’s easier than ever to forget about these things sitting in D.C with Sabrina on a park bench.
Something I found interesting is that a lot of people set out to study a whole year in Italy, but many students even left before their time was completed. I choose six months, and for me it felt like plenty of time. And I suppose people left because not only is it tiring to travel and deal with culture shock, but also there’s the fear of missing out on something back home.
I know many of my friends who have studied abroad felt stagnant, like they weren’t learning or growing during this time. Personally, I didn’t feel this way. I felt like I had a productive time where I was not only able to travel, but to read, and learn about Italian culture and so much more about myself through my experiences. I’ve written several short stories about my time there I hope to share one day. Not everything in life is always about getting ahead, working, and making money, even though that’s what American culture tells us. But embracing the Mediterranean culture of taking things slow. Chi va piano va sano e va lontano (whoever goes slow goes well and far).
Of course there are the allegations that people who study abroad can’t stop talking about it. I love to talk about it, but try not to be annoying about it, but that’s what was so indulgent about being with Sabrina. Sometime I bring it up as a joke, in obvious moments, like when sharing a pizza with a group of friends or making a recipe that reminds me of something I had abroad. One year later, I only bring it up when I have no other choice (except for right in writing of course).
It’s not that these will be the best memories or the only interesting parts of my life to look back to. It’s just that I like the reminder of the version of myself that wasn’t afraid to take risks. Who took a 30 mile bike ride around lake Iseo in Northern Italy, with slowly deflating tires, and who could solo travel perfectly content in just her own company.
The biggest way that studying in Italy has crept its way into my life until this day is by what I cook and bake. I love going to the market and buying a bouquet of basil and stems of tomatoes to make a fresh pesto and salad. Basically meals centered around fresh ingredients. I love to make a salad, especially with farro, a recipe we ate often in Florence. This weekend the market had so many colorful summer squash that I made a delightful quiche with, not something I had craved, but a beautiful recipe of opportunity.
Tiramisu and homemade lemon sorbet are so simple and easy to make (if you have a mixer). My trick with sorbet without an ice cream maker is to freeze the sorbet already in serving— can use halved lemon peels for this or small cups and bowls— and then let it thaw for around 20 minutes to get the best creamy consistency.
In Italy we were always walking. And now, my ideal day out consists of driving to a walkable area and wandering around town. One of the things I want to take away from Italian culture is practical exercise: doing sports with friends, going kayaking to see birds, going swimming because it’s hot outside, and lastly; walking because that’s the way to get somewhere.
It’s amazing how you can look back to a time in your life with completely new eyes. I feel pulled between wishing I’d done things differently, to not wanting to change a thing, relieved and content and embarrassed. Missing it but not wanting to go back. A year later, I still carry Italy in my perspectives, my recipes, and even in my footsteps.
My italian summer reading list reccomendations:
Call me by your name- Andre Acimen
Last Summer in the City- Gianfranco Calligarich
The Stranger- Albert Camus
East of Eden- John Steinbeck
Room with a View- E. M. Forster
Giovanni’s Room- James Baldwin
Devotions- Mary Oliver
Thank you for reading! May your summer be full of talking about whatever it is that you can’t stop talking about. Special thanks to Sabrina— next time I hope we meet in Italy in person and not just in our hearts <3
-Oatmilk Allison
Beautifully said. For anyone reading these, as her roommate back home not only did it affect her everyday but also mine. She came back with so many stories, dishes to taste, and a heart so open for adventure. If I’ve learned anything from Allison it’s to make time to adventure the way you’ve always dreamed.
L’Italia era più bella con te, cara mia💗 Grateful for every precious moment we spent together!! “Next time I hope we meet in Italy in person and not just in our hearts” - and that we will!!!