Comparison of American and Italian Life -- OR NOT

As my cousin pointed out yesterday, how can one possibly compare Italian life to that in America? She really thinks the question, itself, is invalid. They are two completely different lives, that only small pieces can be considered against that of the other culture; but in doing this, everything else is left out--which is what defines the full experience of one living in a place.

If none of that made sense, mi dispiace (I'm sorry), I'm writing this even though I should be sleeping. Today was spent with more cousins, most of whom live in a nearby town; again, I'd never met any of them prior to today. It was raining all day today so it was a particularly good day for a visit. I'll say one thing about the weather here: when the forecasters say it'll rain, it does. Makes it easier to plan around it because this rain makes riding a bike (or doing much outside) close to impossible.

Capturing the moments that made yesterday and today great will not be possible as much as I am desperately wanting to do that. It's simply not feasible, in words, to tell of the feeling of comfort, of warmth, that I instantly felt with all of my family members the moment I met them all. We may be related, but I was a stranger to them prior to this weekend. They didn't even know what I looked like. For the most part, we don't speak the same language, but I don't feel the stress of not having the right thing to say; I don't feel like I need to concern myself with how I look or dress or any of that. I can simply be part of the family and I have to be content at this moment in not understanding where this odd feeling of unexpected comfort originates.

The food, like yesterday, was prepared with a supreme level of care and it was wonderful. I think the system of serving up each course one at a time is terrific--it allows the chefs in the kitchen to enjoy the food with everyone and there is a little time in between courses for digestion.

Turns out the guys who are somewhere around my age are really into cycling. That was a pleasant surprise! I was glad I took this magazine with me along with the GPS watch and bike riding pics from the Colorado National Monument. (We watched a decent portion of the Paris Roubaix, too. I'm convinced that if everyone rode bikes, we'd have world peace. And yes, Mark-mystery-blog-reader, I highly encourage the purchase of GPS. I happen to really like Garmin, not sure how it compares to others out there. It's the best purchase, aside from airline tickets to Europe, that I've made in a very long time for multiple reasons. Can't wait to try out your suggested hack! Thanks!)

The conversation was almost all Italian today, two people have a good knowledge of English so I got some translations at times, but it really forced me to pull out the little Italian I know and piece it together. There was also a lot of communication via hand waving. The full-on Italian exposure was like a week in class...and it helped emphasize to me the importance of living with Italians. Apartment shopping for May will commence tomorrow. When I got home tonight, I spent a long time at the local bar reviewing vocabulary and realizing the hundreds of mistakes I made today.

Two common questions they all asked me are: what do I do for a living? and why do I study Italian here? This has been something I've been thinking long and hard about on bike rides. The creativity flows when there's so little stress and fresh air. I'm starting to come up with some interesting ideas, but nothing that I will do anything about until I get a bit further in school. One step at a time. If the dreams I'm having at night are any indication, I need to do do something dramatically different from the 8-5, M-F desk job.

On that note, I could write a book just on the experience of today alone, but this captures enough such that the day doesn't have a chance of slipping into oblivion.