\u201cOh yeah, we drippin\u2019 in finesse and gettin\u2019 paid.\u201d Stepping off of\n the bustling Viale di Trastevere into an Italian grocery, Cardi B\u2019s \nvoice is the last thing I expect to hear. But here I am, standing under \nthe fluorescent light of Elite a little outside of Rome\u2019s city center. \nToday marks my first venture into the local grocery store that I will \nlikely frequent during my 4 month study abroad term. Pulling a green, \nsmall, and upright cart behind me, I embarked. Bright, Italian-flag \ncolors from tomatoes and assortments of lettuce shout at me from neat \nwooden shelves. The tropical hues of pineapples, oranges, and avocados I\n am used to are replaced by the subdued yellows of stone fruit and \ngrapes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I move systematically to the cereal aisle, having grabbed only a bag of arugula and box of small tomatoes, datterinos<\/em>.\n A father and son pass me, the boy pointing at the chocolatey cereal \nwhile his father grabs Honey Rings instead. As they squeeze by me I \nreach for the box of familiar Rice Krispies but, thinking about the \nlittle boy, smile and settle for fruit and nut muesli. Tall and proud, \nthe refrigerator section behind me showcases rows of fresh pasta, pesto,\n cheese, and yogurt. I eagerly traverse its entire length, twice. An \nItalian girl with silky chocolate hair and golden skin collides into me \nas I turn to closely examine the formaggi <\/em>selections. \u201cScusi, \npiccola!\u201d I mutter with a bad accent. Tossing me a shy smile, the girl\u2019s\n mother grasps her hand and tugs her down the adjacent aisle. The \nchild\u2019s big hazel eyes gaze questioningly at my blonde-haired, \ngreen-eyed, and pale complexion clearly marking me as a foreigner. I \nstare at my reflection in the refrigerator door, disappointed that I \nstick out. Refocusing on the parmesan, my spirits lifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Strolling through the olive oil and balsamic forest, I feel like a \ncharacter in Candyland. I almost miss the one foot of shelf space \ndedicated to Kikkomans soy sauce, three packets of Old El Paso taco \nseasoning, a couple bottles of Tabasco, and two jars of salsa. Laughing,\n I made a mental note of their location in the case that I get \ndesperate. Less than graceful at the register while fumbling for Euro \ncoins, I silently rejoice that I at least remembered to bring my \nreusable bag. Emerging back out under the Roman sun, I am proud to be a \nbit more Italian today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Three weeks after my initial experience, I entered Elite after class \nfor my near-daily grocery shopping ritual. Shawn Mendes plays in the \nbackground as I move methodically through the aisles. I round the corner\n and almost smack into a girl about my age. \u201cScusi!\u201d I say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh you\u2019re good,\u201d the girl answers. I stand, frozen, as she passes \nme, my eyes captivated by her oversized Vineyard Vines t-shirt, pale \nskin, and Vans. Quickly scanning the rest of the store I see many more \nof her kind carrying bottles of cheap wine, jars of Nutella, and loaves \nof white bread.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDude I wonder if they have protein bars,\u201d a boy in fraternity \nletters says to his friends behind me. The infiltration of these \nAmerican study abroad students into my grocery store is unsettling. \nHurrying through the rest of the store, I see my favorite jars of olives\n replaced by overpriced peanut butter and maple syrup. I look at my now \ngolden skin in the reflection of the freezer but a bag of smiley French \nfries stares back at me. I rush to the checkout, eager to get out of \nthis overtaken place. While conversing with and presenting my Euros to \nthe cashier with utmost grace, Vineyard Vines on the other checkout \nstruggles to determine what \u201cSette e Venti\u201d means. Stepping back out \nonto the Viale, I breath in the Roman sunshine, the \u201cPronto<\/em>\u201d of a nearby woman answering her phone, and a puff of cigarette smoke. I am home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cOh yeah, we drippin\u2019 in finesse and gettin\u2019 paid.\u201d Stepping off of the bustling Viale di Trastevere into an Italian grocery, Cardi B\u2019s voice is the last thing I expect to hear. But here I am, standing under the fluorescent light of Elite a little outside of Rome\u2019s city center. Today marks my first venture…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":402,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[54],"tags":[369],"class_list":["post-18810","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-isarome","tag-rollinsabroad"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18810","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/402"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18810"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18810\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19560,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18810\/revisions\/19560"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18810"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18810"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.rollins.edu\/letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18810"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}