Classes, Locals, and… Tacos?

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It’s apparent here in Rome that classes are officially in full swing. All of a sudden people seem to be going out less during the week to focus more on their studies.

Just to prove how hard we’ve all been working over here, I’ve added some photos taken during our last “on site” photography class.

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Just your everyday class split between the Coliseum and the Roman Forum…

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Even with our full class schedules, it seemed like the entire Temple Rome class made it to Abbey Theatre for their 1 Euro “Taco Tuesday” special. If that doesn’t give it away that most of us (myself especially) have been having some food cravings, I don’t know what else does!

My last blog post consisted of my trip to the Vatican, a highly occupied tourist attraction that just about everyone who visits Rome goes to see. This post however, is more about the experiences that I feel like you can’t get without an extended stay. It’s a personal experience, and I don’t have any pictures to go along with it. Hopefully though, I’ll be able to describe it in a way that will make my readers feel like they were there, and in a way that will make me never forget it.  So here it goes:

I’ve been caught several times walking home in the rain after a long day of classes, and yes, a few of those times have been without an umbrella. This time was different though. I had set out on what seemed to be a full on sprint to the residence when I had just finished classes in between storms. Nothing was going to stop me from getting home as fast as I could to avoid getting soaked. Nothing was going to stop me… other than a red crosswalk sign. Side note for you future study abroaders, don’t ever try to cross on a red! You will get hit, if not by a car than by a scooter. Those scooters are fast, silent, and their drivers don’t always follow the rules of the road.

Anyway, after just missing the green light for the crosswalk I found myself waiting on the corner next to a rather large, and muddy puddle. It wasn’t long before I was joined by an elderly man waiting for the same light. Rather than ignore me, he gestured for me to stand where he was. He didn’t speak a word of English, but like a classic Italian he spoke with his hands. He was telling me to stand next to him so I wouldn’t get splashed by the puddle if a car came by.

The light changed to green, and we both crossed the street. He began speaking in Italian, but I’m sure my confused facial expression and stuttering of “poco Italiano” (little Italian) gave him the message loud and clear that I didn’t know what he was saying. But even that didn’t stop him from trying to interact with me! He smiled and laughed at the fact that we could get rained on at any minute.

We parted ways when he crossed the street to his car, but not without a smile, a wave, and a “ciao!”

I couldn’t stop smiling all the way home. This may seem like an everyday occurrence for some people, but to me it was special. This was my first genuine experience with a local. And I can now attest that it’s true what they say, Italians are sincerely nice people.

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