LIVING HER DREAM: FOUR MONTHS IN FLORENCE
Philadelphia Inquirer
By Randi Milgram
Sunday,
Oct. 01, 2006
FLORENCE,
Italy
- Every
day last winter and spring, I would weave my way through market vendors selling
leather goods, with most of them tossing out pick-up lines in broken English
instead of deals on purses.
I'd
dodge little old ladies toting purchases of fresh produce and cheeses from the Mercato Centrale, and sporty Vespas speeding down Borgo San
Lorenzo.
I would pass San Lorenzo Church and its bare facade (because
Michelangelo never finished the designs), with throngs of high school students
smoking on its steps.
Turning onto
narrow Via Della Stufa, I would carefully navigate
the rocky stone path until I reached my apartment in this cosmopolitan yet
quaint city, which was my home for a semester - and maybe for much longer, if
I'm lucky.
Choosing Florence for my
study-abroad program was the easy part. As a high school sophomore on a 10-day
tour of Italy
with my Latin class, I fell in love with the city in one short day there. To
have four months to revel in its beauty would be a dream come true.
After three years
at Pennsylvania State University
- and with nine summers spent at overnight camp - I was sure that being abroad
for a semester would not be a problem. I have always been independent and
comfortable on my own.
Academic Programs
International (API) picked me up at the airport in Rome and provided a three-day orientation in
that magical city. Still, I couldn't
wait to get to my new home.
Florence is like no other city
I've ever been in, with a perfect mix of small-town charisma and world-renowned
culture. I spent every day dealing with a surreal Truman Show- inspired
feeling that I was on television; everything was either too good to be true or
a welcome change. I loved walking the narrow streets and reading outside the Duomo - or Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore - a fixture
in the city's skyline. Then, there was the enormous poster of Diff'rent Strokes actor Gary Coleman on a
wall near my apartment, reminding me of my American roots.
I didn't know a
single person in the country or in my program, which housed me with three
annoying American roommates. I also grappled with the peculiarities of our
spacious old apartment.
From the end of
January through the end of May, I tried to blend in as a Florentine. Although
the locals treated me and the other American students like tourists, it added
to the authentic experience to adapt.
Trying to do so
was a full-time job - I had to call on all my resources. I memorized specific
phrases in Italian before leaving the house: Da quale
binario parte il
treno? to find the
correct train; Potrebbe repetere,
per favore? when
people spoke too fast; Che cazzo stai dicendo!
t o respond to mean men on the street; and E doppiato, o con i sottotitoli?, which I learned to ask after a confusing
viewing of Mission: Impossible III in Italian, without subtitles.
I tried to dress
like the locals. Florentine women never think of wearing sneakers. Along with
North Face fleeces and Ugg boots, sneakers positively
screamed "American student." I learned to walk in stylish boots and
heels as much as my flat feet could stand. Black became my favorite color
because it was theirs. I traded my worn backpack for a leather tote. I hid my
amusement at people wearing denim jackets with jeans and huge sunglasses.
Feeling like a
native was my payoff for all the hard work I had done to keep on schedule to
graduate with my Class of 2007. I managed to squeeze in three semesters of
Italian to prepare for my trip, while fulfilling the requirements of two majors
- journalism and communications. I skipped parties and
football games and weekend road trips - all so I could have one unbelievable
semester abroad.
Because I had
saved most of my elective credits for Florence,
I had my pick of interesting classes. Besides the required Italian, I studied
Italian fashion, international communication, a course called "Lost
Symbolism and Ancient Codes in Art" (just in time forThe
Da Vinci Code ),
and opera with an overly enthusiastic Italian professor. He danced around and
sang when we watched selected scenes of operas on DVD, which was as distracting
as it was amusing.
I overheard
children singing the Italian version of the Teletubbies
theme song on a train back from Camogli, a tiny
resort town on the Italian Riviera. I fell in love with Sardinia, and got
the chance to see the Winter Olympics in Turin,
Italy.
Because my classwork was lighter than at Penn State,
I had plenty of free time to learn from the city instead of about it. I could
admire the Renaissance architecture for hours and wander the streets to find
the house Dante lived in and the church he attended. I could sit at the foot of
the Ponte Vecchio and wonder how many millions have
crossed it. I could get lost in the labyrinthine Boboli
Gardens at the Pitti Palace and be awed that it once was
simply the backyard of the Medicis.
I could try to
catch a glimpse of the designer Roberto Cavalli at
the cafe next to his store whenever he visited, or get a private tour of the Ferragamo museum.
Mostly, I grew up
in Florence. I
did everything alone, from visiting the best museums and shopping in the
designer flagship stores to finding the best pizza and patronizing the arts. I
saw the opera Faust during the Maggio Musicale festival, but nothing could beat seeing The
Sound of Music in Italian - tutti insieme appassionamente. It
was the funniest show imaginable, though the people sitting around me didn't
appreciate my laughing.
My life had
become completely different, which took a lot of adjustment but added to the
allure of living abroad. I passed different people every day. At night in
clubs, I met intriguing people from Israel,
Morocco, Portugal and Australia
- a far cry from Penn State, where most of the people I know are from the Main Line.
I learned about
other cultures and how I fit into the world. Interviewing vendors in the San Lorenzo market for my honors thesis, I found out some
negative stereotypes they have about Americans: that we are careless,
inconsiderate people who throw money away and whose children do not respect
their elders.
They also hate
when tourists bargaining for their goods say, "I'll give you... ." Yet the vendors acknowledged that they see a
different side of Americans when they have conversations with us.
Every day, I had
to remind myself that I really was in this perfect city in Italy and
wasn't dreaming. Even though I came home for my senior year, I could move to Florence for good - well,
at least for a few years.
If you get the
chance to visit Florence
on a study-abroad program or on vacation, take it. Maybe, I'll be one of the
locals walking by.
Randi
Milgram in Florence, Italy Age: 21 Home: Havertown University:Penn State Major: Communication Arts &
Sciences, Journalism Class: Senior Site:
Lorenzo de Medici Credits: 16 Courses:
Opera, Italian, Italian fashion, art history, communications Total
cost: $14,000 (including tuition, housing) Food and travel:
$8,000 Airfare: $800 Program: Academic Programs
International Stay: January-May