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My Trip to Italy Essay
My Trip to Italy
I stood in the town square of the small village. Like any other normal day, people were going about their day to day business. Old men sat on a wooden bench beneath a large tree and predicted this year s crop. Women shared town gossip as they shopped for groceries, and children sucked on lollipops while they played along the cobblestone streets. However, unlike any other day, the whole crowd had stopped in unison and darted their eyes in my direction, their full attention on me. I heard hushed whispers as I passed by the crowd, Americano! Oh mio Dio, guarda com è alto! I lowered my head as I thought to myself, What the hell am I doing here? I m in a country where I don t know the language or the culture, and I...show more content...Living in a town of 1,800 Italians was the hardest thing I ve ever done in my life. The first months were extremely trying; I didn t speak any Italian, and everyday things that I took for granted back home suddenly became a struggle. The most obvious of the differences between the two cultures was the language. I quickly picked up a few key words like My name is, and I like, and I had all the cuss words mastered within the first few weeks. However, I had the vocabulary of a 5 year old and the mind of a 17 year old and I was going insane! My host family was very hospitable but also very serious and meticulous. They liked things put in their place and wanted them to stay that way. I had to put all my clothes away neatly in my closet, make my bed every morning, and turn the computer and lights off after I used them.
It wasn t all bad, and perhaps the best part about living in a small town is the close, commun
1. My Trip to Italy Essay
My Trip to Italy
I stood in the town square of the small village. Like any other normal day, people were going about
their dayâtoâday business. Old men sat on a wooden bench beneath a large tree and predicted this
year's crop. Women shared town gossip as they shopped for groceries, and children sucked on
lollipops while they played along the cobblestone streets. However, unlike any other day, the whole
crowd had stopped in unison and darted their eyes in my direction, their full attention on me. I heard
hushed whispers as I passed by the crowd, "Americano!" "Oh mio Dio, guarda com'ĐĐ alto!" I
lowered my head as I thought to myself, "What the hell am I doing here? I'm in a country where I
don't know the language or the culture, and I...show more content...
Living in a town of 1,800 Italians was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The first months
were extremely trying; I didn't speak any Italian, and everyday things that I took for granted back
home suddenly became a struggle. The most obvious of the differences between the two cultures
was the language. I quickly picked up a few keyâwords like "My name is," and "I like," and I had all
the cuss words mastered within the first few weeks. However, I had the vocabulary of a 5âyearâold
and the mind of a 17âyearâold and I was going insane! My host family was very hospitable but also
very serious and meticulous. They liked things put in their place and wanted them to stay that way. I
had to put all my clothes away neatly in my closet, make my bed every morning, and turn the
computer and lights off after I used them.
It wasn't all bad, and perhaps the best part about living in a small town is the close, community
atmosphere. Many of the townspeople were related, and their families had grown up together,
passing on stories and traditions. It also wasn't uncommon for people to acknowledge each other
when they walked through the streets. It was a shock for me, coming from Wilmington, Delaware,
where you don't look someone in the eye, let alone mutter a "Hello." Everyone went out of their
way to make me feel at home. I became a "celebrity" in the town where I lived and in the other
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