I'm Too American | Rome

I couldn't be Italian if I tried. My hair is naturally blonde and I'll pay you $1 million if you see a natural blonde who is Italian. I always walk like I'm 10 minutes late everywhere even if I'm early. I check my watch too often. I constantly need to be doing something. I eat dinner at 6 pm which seems like a reasonable hour. More than anything else, I think it's beautiful weather here. The Italians look like they live in Antarctica.

In the past week I learned how grateful and disgusted I am that I am American. I love our big showers, cozy beds, expansive grocery stores, and large cars. I hate our fast food, pollution, busyness, and constant worrying. I've realized one word sums up America: excessive.

I suppose in Italy it's not so much about the things or size of what you have but rather the experiences you gain. It's about eating dinner for two hours starting at 8 pm. It's about meandering the gorgeous streets at a leisurely pace. It's about eating gelato for a snack and not feeling guilty. It's about not fretting when the bus will arrive in the morning. It's about taking a siesta for two hours midday.

Ancient burial tombs in Ostia Antica

Most importantly, it's about never being on time. After all, the city has been around for 2800 years. Being late won't bring about its ruin.

Ancient apartments in Ostia Antica

There's a phrase they use to express this lifestyle. It's called dolce far niente which means the sweetness of doing nothing. I only pray I can one day learn about the sweetness of that life.

I will never be Italian. I may never live in Italy again. However, I can act Italian because I like it better here.

 Quite frankly, I want to act Italian for the rest of my life.

The Tiber River