The Never-Ending Meal

When I imagined how my Thanksgiving in Italy would go I always imagined myself either homesick and crying alone in some corner, or singing hand in hand with a large group of Italians as they laugh uproariously at my jokes. Of course neither of these happened and it passed more or less like an ordinary day (wake up, shower, café late from Simone, class, class, class) with the exception of a party in the middle of it thrown by my study abroad organization. The food was not traditional American, it was all Italian. I didn’t mind this because I got to eat traditional Italian holiday cake and drink their wine, both of which are good enough for my Thanksgiving. The faculty was all invited so we celebrated with all of our professors. Since there are only 12 of us in the program it was about half faculty, half students. It was a lot of fun.

It was at some point during that party that I was talking to one of my professors about Thanksgiving. He was saying how its interesting to him that this tradition is so ingrained into us Americans while it is something Italians really have no holiday that is equivalent to it. He said it’s too bad because Italians love to eat and drink and be with family so they would really enjoy having a Thanksgiving. Then I realized something: Italians don’t need a Thanksgiving because they basically have Thanksgiving every day.

For example, the next day I went to a dinner party for my language exchange partner, Mattia’s, 28th birthday. The party was at his house in the country and his friends made the food. The menu for this party was: seafood crostini, white lasagna, red lasagna, pork, sausage, steak, salad, two different kinds of birthday cake (flaky, layery, creamy, yummy), and wine, wine, wine. Every single item was served to every person there. I somehow found the ability to eat it all because it was all so, so delicious. But that is the crazy thing about every single Italian meal I have had - they never stop. You think you've found the main course and you think you’re done. But no, surprise! There is more food! And then you end up eating more than you had ever imagined you had the ability to eat. Since I’m living in an apartment right now I only have this strange but wonderful experience every now and then. But according to my friends in homestays this does truly happen every single night. I’ll be sure to report on this next semester when I’m living in an Italian home.

I’m actually not writing this from my apartment but from a hotel in Siena. The heating is out in my apartment and my landlord Simone (the same name as my barista, everyone is named Simone. My roommate Mollie said once, “Isn’t it weird that everyone is named Simone here? That would be like everyone being named Simon in the U.S.” And that would be really weird.) doesn’t think it can be fixed until Thursday. When my study abroad organization heard about this they instantly booked us in a cute hotel right next to school. It’s fun! I feel so fancy.

Well, it is fun but not so fun because I have to serious and studious now since I’m leaving tomorrow. Headed up north tomorrow to the land of the stroopwafel! I hope I don’t get too cold. After living in Italy this long I'm not sure how I'll handle below freezing temperatures.