I do not know what I was expecting when I came to Milan. I was going to Italy and I had the typical Italian stereotypes … everyone dressed impeccably, women in heels, Vespas everywhere, the perfect cappuccino, picturesque Italian villas, and how could I forget pasta, wine, and cheese. Then I somehow combined my imaginative perception of Italy with my idea of a metropolitan city, New York or Chicago. And there we go … we have Milan! To say the least my illustration of Milan was a bit off target. As expected, Milan culture differs greatly from that of America, but I was surprised by what exactly deviated so much from American society.
Day one and I needed coffee. We stopped at the café down the street. I ordered a café, thinking nothing less than what I get at Starbucks when I order a tall coffee. To start, it was the size of a baby’s fist. Was I supposed to sip or take it like a shot? How do you even hold a mug that small? I thought I liked strong coffee but this was beyond strong. This was so bitter my lips puckered as I tasted the espresso. The café was bustling in the morning with the Milanese on their way to work, although no one grabbed a coffee “to-go”. I learned rather quickly “to-go” coffee does not exist in Italy. My typical morning coffee run would drastically be changing for the next few months. Who knows, I may return to the U.S. and be the only American who enters a coffee shop, requests coffee in a mug, and sits down to enjoy it in its entirety before heading out to start my day.
Two o’clock rolls around. What a perfect time for an afternoon snack and some shopping. Store number one … closed. Maybe there was no one to work that day. Store number two … also closed. Now this was just not right. All the boutiques were closed. And the cafés too! The hours were right there on the door. They opened in the morning, closed at lunch time for a couple hours and opened back up again later. I thought siesta time was only in Spain! Does everyone really nap here? In Milan? I was later informed the break is not meant to nap but rather to gather the family together for a mid-day meal. All I could think of was … this would never fly in America!
Dinner time and we are ready for our first taste of vino in Italy! We have been advised to try out some aperitivo thing? Not exactly sure what the word even means, we head out to a cute bar. Luckily, most waiters can either speak English or understand enough of what we are saying to explain the process. You mean we buy one drink and food is included? A buffet! Finally something American! Once again, this would never work in the U.S. Americans would arrive early, order one drink, sit, and refill their plate for the next three hours. Being full does not matter when the food is free. We have discussed this many times over our perfect mixture of Italian favorites and glasses of Chianti. Restaurants in America would go out of business! Aperitivo is definitely a new favorite and will be missed when we return home.
The streets in Milan are yet another story. I am used to a grid system, parallel and perpendicular streets with avenues going one direction, and streets going to other. I can barely manage to find my way around with our perfectly organized system. How will I ever survive in Milan? The streets all twist and turn and go every which way. They run into piazzas and roundabouts and change names at the end of a block. If I make one wrong turn, out comes the map, dead giveaway that I am not a local.
There has absolutely been some culture shock over the last month. I am learning as I go and am along for the ride. Being thrown into unexpected, uncomfortable situations happens time and again and I have convinced myself it is for the better. I am soaking up the Italian culture and although shocked at times I am enjoying every minute of it.
Grace Nordloh