I have now been here in Florence for a few days. Soon after my arrival, I documented my travel experience, which in all took about 20 hours, and my very initial encounters in Florence:
“Saturday, May 12: I landed in Milan at about 8 am local time. On the plane the flight attendants spoke both perfect English and perfect Italian. In fact, I couldn’t tell which was the native tongue. There were (I believe) more Italians on the plane than Americans. I found the baggage claim and was confused that I didn’t have to do anything after picking up my bag – I can count the number of times I’ve flown on one hand so I’m not accustomed to the protocol. Then I needed to find my train, the Malpensa Express, so I asked a woman behind a desk, “Dove vado per la Malpensa Express? Where do I go for the Malpensa Express?” She answered in Italian, and, somewhat shell-shocked, I didn’t pick up much of it and she could tell. “English is better?” she asked me. “Forse, sì. Maybe, yes.” I was a bit embarrassed. I still had trouble finding the train but bought a ticket for the 9:13 one (at 9:08…). I wasn’t sure where I needed to go so I asked the man who sold me the ticket, “Da dove parte? Where does it leave from?” He smugly answered, “Dai binari. From the tracks.” I found the right spot and got on the train. After some time on the train I realized I did not validate my ticket as one must do on certain trains in Italy – it was not clear to me that I needed to and I now wonder if the man who sold it to me purposely did not tell me to – and became very worried about my incoming fine. Luckily they never came to check and I made it out alive. I got to Milano Centrale at about 10:10, where my next train was to leave at 11:35. I was also very confused at Milano Centrale. At first I could not find the information for my train, Italo 9923. Was it canceled? Initially I just stayed on the platform, planning to wait until my train arrived. But then I started getting worried so I went out into the main area of the station where I saw my train number up on the screen, but no other information about it. Soon I picked up that the board adds the info later on as the arrival time approaches. Keep in mind this is the first time I’ve traveled alone at all, not just in Europe. Finally I get on the Italo train and arrive in Florence, where my transfer is. Without saying more than 5 words to me, he recklessly drives me (as Italians do) to the apartment, takes out my bags, points to which door is mine, and immediately leaves. I’m unsure exactly what to do but eventually find my way up and meet my roommates, who are all nice.”
So my first couple attempts with the language and the culture were not picture perfect, but it would be silly to expect it to be so. Even with all my preparation in the classroom and my exposure to Italian music and film, the actual, living, real-time language came as a shock to me. These initial experiences really give a sense of just how useful it is to be able to come here to Italy. That is, I wouldn’t truly be able to improve my Italian unless faced with these types of situations and with the real spoken language. And as for the discomforts I experienced while traveling, they, too, are extremely important for my adaptation to a different culture – I now know to be sure to validate my ticket before boarding the train – and also for my personal maturation in being able to handle real-word, confusing situations.