My Glamorous Life

I have heard some rumors that my life is glamorous. So, I wanted to clear that up. My life is in fact, not glamorous at all. I know that to meet an Italian while studying in France, and then moving to Italy to have a baby may sound like the stuff of fairytales, but I assure you, it’s not that easy or simple.

Maybe the first part of the story is, but a year of long distance sure wasn’t. And moving here mid-pregnancy was far from easy and romantic. It’s difficult enough to be pregnant in a place familiar to you, but add in learning a language, adjusting to a new culture, and mountains of paperwork, and it becomes somewhat of a headache. Not that it has no rewards, or that I’m miserable. In fact, overall, I’m happy here, but it’s not because of the place. Remember, the Italy you see on movies, or when you do a brief tour, is not the real Italy. The real Italy is the one with perpetually late buses, with rude, nosy old women, and with a serious lack of common courtesy.

This is something that I really miss. I miss southern manners. I miss men opening doors, or giving up seats on the bus. Not all men here are so rude. In fact, Paolo’s friends are quite protective of me, and polite in general. But many men just seem oblivious to common courtesy. The only people that have offered me seats on the overly crowded, perpetually late buses are actually women. And I can only assume it’s because they remember what it’s like to be pregnant. I can understand old people sitting down, or people with small children. I don’t want their seats; they need them. But the idiotic teenagers, or middle aged men that just sit there with no thought of being polite to either me or the elderly woman who just got on the bus, are just plain rude. Not to mention those that push to get on the stupid bus. Needless to say, I don’t like the buses here. They’re an unavoidable part of life, but so incredibly inefficient.

If there’s something to be jealous of, it’s definitely the food. Even just a grocery store experience here is so much more fun than in America. I will sincerely miss the 59 cent balls of fresh mozzarella and the incredibly cheap, fresh produce. Also, the fixed menus that restaurants here have are fantastic. The place we went to today for lunch gives you a huge plate of pasta (mine was spaghetti bolognaise today) with a dessert, bottle of water, and coffee for 7 euros. You couldn’t find that in America. And they really put effort into making it look nice too, so you feel fancy even though it’s cheap.

So basically, it’s a mixed bag being here. Glamorous is not the word I would use to describe it. Pregnant is pregnant, not matter where or who you are. I cannot lie to you and tell you that it’s a glamorous experience. All it takes is one baby kick in the wrong place, or a joke that’s a little too funny to take you back to infancy. Your back will hurt, you will be tired, sometimes you may be mad for no reason. This is true everywhere. If you want to continue to think that I’m rowing the canals of Venice everyday while a handsome Italian feeds me chocolate and plays music on his harp, go for it. But in reality, I’m fighting people to get on the bus, Paolo denies me chocolate because I’m not supposed to gain too much weight, and he sings Blink 182 songs wildly out of tune. Life may not always be exciting, and even frustrating at times, but that’s life. You just have to learn as you go, take a little from the places you go, and live.

Ciao for now,

Kathleen