For the first time in a while, I felt like I knew what I was doing in Italy. My few words of Italian and my basic knowledge of Italian culture made me feel like a semi-expert as I showed my boyfriend Emmett around. And yet I still feel like a tourist-outsider despite my two-month head start living in Italy. I felt dumb when we missed a bus that had already left in Assisi. I sheepishly said yes to sitting for silhouette portraits in Perugia per Emmett’s enthusiastic encouragement. (Yes, the artist even put ours together in a heart shaped paper frame.) In Rome, I felt like a tourist when we ate dinner at 6pm, two hours early according to Italians. Despite feeling a little out of place, I realized that it’s okay to feel a little confused and be a little different. I am in a foreign country after all.
Experiencing life (and another culture) through another person is incredible. Emmett asked questions I hadn’t thought about like “was it an aqueduct that makes Trevi fountain flow?” And “why weren’t there any women portraits in the Capucchin monk museum?” I did things I would’ve brushed off as too much effort and found myself clinging to Emmett as we shared a scooter ride over cobblestones that threatened to jiggle my eyes out of their sockets. We stopped to listen to a hand pan streetplayer who gave us a booklet of his poetry that we translated into English; it spoke to us (“deserts help us meditate”). I learned that walking hand-in-hand in Rome’s crowds is really hard but worth it. With Emmett, I finally gave into the joy of multiple cappuccinos, which fueled headstands under broccoli trees in the park. After over two months apart, I remembered just how hard it is to keep a 6’3” athletic man fed—the quantity of food he consumes is ridiculous. We wandered the streets looking at the sunset and talking about privilege and questioning everything and being kind. I am relieved to get to experience and share these moments in Italy together so that I don’t have to try to explain them all later.
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