Author: jmcgibbo

One night I went out with my host family’s daughter Gaia (who is 19) for aperitivo (Italian drinks and snacks) at the Piazza del Campo. While we were chatting in a mix of Italian and English, two Italian guys from a nearby table approached us and asked to take a photo with us. This very forward way of interacting was a bit foreign to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I said sure. After we took the selfie, the both of them asked to sit with us and for the next few hours we talked in Italian. It was not so much this first part that was a critical incident, rather just a funny moment, but one that reflected a cultural difference (Gaia later told me that this was a pretty normal Italian guy thing to do). The true incident, however, was the actual experience of talking with these two Italians and Gaia because it was both enjoyable and stressful. I could not relax at all during the conversation, but had to be extremely present and listen as closely as possible the entire time because they were speaking so fast and also in accents I wasn’t as familiar with (neither was Senese). I felt very foreign in this encounter and also almost like a burden to the conversation. I asked them to speak slower so I could understand and there were only so many things I could not tell them. I didn’t really feel like myself in the interaction because of my lack of ability to eloquently express myself. Despite my own cultural barrier in terms of language, I also realized that I wasn’t the only person who felt like she was talking to a foreigner: Gaia, while Italian, is Senese, not Sicilian, so as they were all communicating I realized she did not feel completely comfortable either.

During this interaction I realized two simultaneously contradictory things: 1. Not being able to communicate all of your thoughts or struggling a lot with a language can be a huge barrier to understanding the other person as well as expressing yourself and 2. While language is certainly crucial to communication, there is also so much communication that is done through other means, particularly gesticulation (for the Italians) as well as eye contact etc (hence my ability to still really enjoy the conversation). A person looking at a fishbowl for me represents this moment: someone who is able to understand some of the world that the fish lives in, but from an outsider perspective and without the experience of actually being Italian, or in particular Senese. I gained from this experience a newfound understanding of the intricacies of language and culture but also an appreciation for just how much I was able to understand of the conversation despite its complexity due to my own studies and observation.

Memorial day weekend I traveled with my seven siblings in our big black van to the Catskills to visit some family in the “Blue House,” my grandparent’s Victorian-styled mountain home. The first evening I was chatting away with my grandmother, otherwise known as “Gwy” to her twenty four loving grandchildren. As I was helping Gwy cook dinner in the kitchen, she, between shouts from kids sliding down the bannister in the adjacent room, remarked on just how novel this time in my life must be for me. As I thought more about this, I realized that going to Siena to stay with a family I’ve never met and to practice a language still so foreign to me in a place I’ve never been really is so unlike anything I have ever done. Growing up and being one of so many kids, travel was expensive and so I did very little of it. Until last fall, I had never been out of the country, and I still have never been to Italy. Instead, I spent my summers and vacations at my grandparents house upstate, running around building fairy houses with my cousins, catching salamanders in ponds, or picking wild blueberries and raspberries for “jam” which never tasted quite right. I loved those moments, and I suppose they make up my culture. Mine is a culture of big families, long dinners with academic conversations (basically my entire mom’s side of the family are professors), and mass at the chapel down the hill every Sunday.

Thus my grandmother’s observation, while true by any objective standard, did make me pause. What part of climbing trees and pretending to be a fairy in the woods lacks excitement? After some thought, though, I’ve decided that perhaps I have just outgrown those experiences and there is nothing wrong with opening myself up to a new culture which may even connect with some of my own experiences in surprising ways. I applied for the SLA grant in Siena to challenge myself to not only improve my command of the Italian language, but also to prove to myself that I can learn from other cultures and branch out. Past experiences have taught me that the only way to truly develop, as cliche as it sounds, is to put oneself in situations of discomfort. This past school year in architecture during sophomore studio was a prime example of that for me. I worked harder than I ever have in my life and was challenged in every sense of the word, and I changed. I was forced to address my bad habits, my assumptions, my interests, and even my priorities. Now, while an entire grueling school year in a studio is not exactly the same as five weeks in Siena, I do expect these next five weeks to challenge parts of myself I haven’t even considered before. I expect to question some core assumptions about my heritage and beliefs and also perhaps even adapt some of the Senese culture to my own.

Ultimately, I have outgrown the Blue House not in the sense that it is no longer a source of happiness, but because I am so comfortable there. And right now I am searching to be uncomfortable, at least for a period of time. I expect this semester in Siena to be awkward and fatiguing at first, but ultimately rewarding, and perhaps even familiar at the end. One question many people have asked me when I tell them I am going to Siena is if I’m going with friends. When I respond that I do not know anyone else going, they sound surprised or respond with a kind of “you’ve got this!” face. What’s funny is that not only do I not mind going without friends, but I actually prefer it. I have never traveled alone but am excited to just observe life around me a bit more. I find that as much fun as I have with my friends, I am able to take in my surroundings far better on my own. I am excited to have some time to explore and reflect before this next school year and I’m more than curious to see what experiences await me in Siena.