"Hi, I'm American"

Even in Italy, I can't escape Uncle Sam

So, today concluded my trudge through the first week of classes here in Milan. Every day this week has seemed far more than 24 hours long; I'm amazed by the amount of utter shit I've been able to pack into the semester so far. I've found myself at so many cultural crossroads; trying to connect with people is so much more difficult than I thought. Language really is a barrier that is very difficult to surpass when a good majority of my vernacular is slang that makes little to no literal sense. My classmates come from all over the world: Thailand, Lebanon, Egypt, El Salvador, Italy, Tukey, Sweden...and to think, I even have trouble communicating with the girls from the UK. But it's funny because some of these girls have an even better grasp of American pop culture than I really do. The world seems to have an odd love-hate relationship with the US which makes it hard for me to determine if being the token American is something to take pride in or to mask in shame. On one hand we brought to the table Michael Jackson and Madonna (why the fuck do people love those two so much?), and on the other we eat hamburgers all day and are insane war-mongers.

(I keep wanting to quote this line from Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series but I don't think it'd come off as funny as it would ignorant...'MERICA, FUCK YEAH)

As for what I actually did this week besides try to embody every American stereotype ever (I'm currently working on picking up a southern accent), I had a lot of fun. I even woke up in a strange Italian guy's bed the other morning...the story isn't so exciting because the strange Italian guy is a very good friend that was on exchange last semester at Pratt, he wasn't in the bed, and I was there because I was probably a bit too tipsy to walk home alone the night before. It's somewhat comical to me that Milan's version of Thirsty Thursdays are Wednesdays at an oddly placed row of Corinthian columns. I had culture shock the other day when I saw a nice pair of well-dressed men walking down the street with Heinekens in hand; if you do that in NYC, chances are you're extremely drunk, extremely homeless, and extremely smelly. The casualness about drinking here is somewhat refreshing, even though I now am legally allowed to drink even in the US. There's even a bar (as in hard liquor) served in the school's cafeteria. I fully support restrictions on alcohol use and have grown up knowing that it is not ok to drink before a certain age, but I think the taboo-ness of it made it more desirable for those younger than 21 to be irresponsible with booze-I mean, they have nothing to lose because  consuming one milliliter or one handle carry the same consequences. It was funny to me hearing a classmate begrudge the fact she's turning 21 when in America, that is the age to be.

When I arrived in Milan I was scared shitless and kept asking myself "when can I go back to New York City?", but now I'm starting to worry about the fact that I won't be here long enough. I don't think I can blend as seamlessly in here as I do in NY and I definitely would not consider living here for the rest of my life, but the isolation is becoming a welcome friend to me here. I picked up the Sunday New York Times yesterday to have something to re-connect me to the American news and although I miss the constant contact I had with my friends back home, I think I'll get some much needed relaxation here. Each interaction here is new and extraordinary. I went to happy hour alone last night (free buffets, WADDUP) and the interaction with the bartender was enlightening; I never thought that I would be touched so much by the sound of the words "thank you" as I did then. I've really learned to appreciate my own language here, which is so ignorant it hurts. But that's me. The American. Fuck Yeah.