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Ruins, Four Cheese Pizza, VH1, Gelato, and the Joys of Being Conned |
by Cassie Cure
I felt like I was in heaven. The historical ruins of the Roman Forum, the bubbling quattro-formaggio pizza, the transcendent sound of the Trevi fountain, Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel filling my soul with spiritual guidance, the beautiful sunset at the park across from the Catacombs... Oh, and then there was that day I got conned.
I had this delusional image in my mind that Italy was this classy far-away land where nothing bad happened. And before the trip when people told me, "Keep your purse close to you, put your wallet in your front pocket and always go in groups," I thought, please. It's Italy. After all, it's where David Duchovny admitted his love for Minnie Driver in Return to Me. But, duh. What was I thinking?
So here's what happened.
I decided to wake up at the crack of dawn the day after a group of us partied until 1 AM outside the Colosseum for New Year's Eve. (Note to self: Next time, first bring a raincoat, and second, never run down the street when crazy Italians are lighting firecrackers in wine bottles and throwing them into the crowd.)
After one guy, John, actually got up that morning, we walked probably five miles to find the Spanish Steps, which we learned were just around the corner from our hotel (this just proves that guys still refuse to ask for directions). As we were enjoying the view, a little Italian guy took a bundle of red, green, and white yarn and started tying it around my wrist. At first, I thought, oh how nice. Giving out free bracelets, as a "welcome to our country" sort-of-thing. After about fifteen minutes of making these overtures, saying that John and I should practically get married, the man had the nerve to charge us 50 euros. I tried to take off my bracelet, but the creepy Italian guy wouldn't let me. Kind of like a "you wear it, you buy it" thing. "But I don't want this; I don't have fifty euros," I said.
John pulled out some change, and asked if I had any just to get this guy to leave us alone. And then, what do you know, another guy who looked just like my guy put a bracelet on John, as well -- and, of course, said the exact same things to him: this color represents love, this one represents unity, peace...all that crap. I searched through my pockets and pulled out ten euros. "But all I have is this." The man snatched it from me and said, "That's OK. You're students." Oh, so students are exceptions because they know we're always poor? Say what?
As they walked away, pocketing the money, I froze and said, "Did that actually happen? Did we just get conned?" Speechless, we both stood there like idiots, as the locals were probably laughing at us, saying, "Look at those two hopeless losers who fell for the oldest trick in the book." Eventually we got over it, but I'll tell you one thing for sure. I kept that bracelet on for the rest of the two weeks. Because I paid ten euros for it. And I had to get my money's worth somehow.
Now don't get me wrong, I did have a good time, too. I'll never forget tasting the original Fettuccini Alfredo where it was first discovered at Alfredo's restaurant, seeing the Virgin Mary and her child at St. Peter's Basilica, and of course, the jaw-dropping beauty of so many ornate churches... I could go on and on.
I was looking through my journal the other day, and there were some things I noticed about Italy that I couldn't just capture on my digital camera.
There are eight cats wandering around the Sacred Area. And most are black. Can we say irony?
After taking pictures of my food at every restaurant, I realized it really doesn't look appetizing.
I swear, if one more guy on the street asks me to buy an umbrella, I will punch him in the face.
Buongiorno and grazie are really the only two words you need to learn how to say in Italian.
We Americans are too much in a hurry to work hard. Seriously. They shut down everything in the middle of the afternoon, eat dinner at 8 PM and don't leave the restaurant until 11. Now that's life.
Gelato after every meal is a must. Because gelato makes everything better.
Is it wrong of me to think that all of the ruins in Rome are starting to look exactly the same? Maybe I should have been a history major.
Why does the hotel only have one TV station in English? And does it have to be VHI's music video station? Britney Spears, Rihanna, Justin Timberlake, & Madonna? Come on. "Desperate Housewives" dubbed in Italian is starting to look better and better.
Rome should certainly invest in street signs. No wonder one of the students came in at 6 in the morning because he got lost. Of course, the alcohol didn't help.
Coca-Cola is so much better in Italy than in the US. Forget all that fancy, expensive wine. Get me a coke! |
I say, make your own memories. These were mine. Even though I have tons of pictures in scrapbooks of all of the places I went, this was more of a spiritual lesson to learn. The culture, the fine art and the history really opened my eyes. And if I could give any advice to those traveling to Rome: When strange Italian guys flirt with you and give you a bracelet, just say no.
Cassie Cure is a Lycoming College '06 grad with a B.A. in Creative Writing. She is currently employed at Texas Christian University in the business school's study abroad department. Internationally, Cassie has traveled to Santiago, Jamaica, Grand Cayman Islands & several parts of Italy. Her main goal in life is to be a published children's book author and a world traveler. She lives with her family in Arlington, TX.
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