Project Expat: American Living in Italy

I’ve traveled to 83 countries across all 7 continents, and in each place I try to highlight the local people in an effort to show others (especially in the U.S.) that despite stereotypes and what we hear, the World, and it’s people are not as dangerous and different as we think.

I’ve gone to Jordan, Egypt, and Morocco by myself to visually show that it’s Ok for a solo female traveler to go to a Muslim country. I emphasized that we are so brainwashed by the association of the term “terrorist” with Muslims that we single out entire parts of the world and unfairly blacklist them, only to find out it would be our own misfortune when we don’t get to see such beautiful places.

But that battle is a much bigger one that will take more time to fight. For now, I wanted to start small, and focus on one of the most basic complaints I hear from people who are scared to travel abroad, “I can’t go there, I don’t know the language and what if I don’t like any of the food?”

It literally pains me to hear people say this, because what we don’t realize, is that the majority of other countries in the world can speak at least some English as a second language. Also, just like we have Japanese, Italian, Chinese, Indian, etc. food in the U.S., guess what other countries have as well? American food, if you’re really that worried about it.

But if you want to learn a little bit of the language where you’re going, I’d highly recommend Rosetta Stone, which is what I used to pick up some Italian!

By the way, I should mention that this piece is not going to be like my usual itinerary pieces; it’s going to be more conversational, and a reflection of my true experiences and opinions.

That being said, I’ll now explain the project I took on recently that’s unlike any other I’ve done before; #ProjectExpat. Living as an expat and getting immediately transplanted into a local community of people just like me, but in another country.

The area is called Reggio Emilia in the middle of Italy, and more specifically, one particular street called Via Roma which is home to a community of forward-thinking artists. This community is not just like family to each other, but by the end of the project it was clear that they had open arms for any person of any ethnicity, gender, or belief as well.

Many of them did wonder though, why a world traveler like me would choose to come stay in Reggio Emilia and experience their small community. I admitted to them and I’ll admit to you that it’s true that typically I am either paid thousands of dollars to go somewhere to write and post about it (if you’re wondering how I’m able to do that, read my About section!), or I go to exotic, adventurous places that I’d like to photograph and write an itinerary for. But that was my proof about how passionate I was about Project Expat.

From traveling so frequently, I know first hand that it’s not easy to just be accepted into an entire community in a short period of time. But this small artist community of Via Roma had reached out to me with that exact offer, and I knew it was too serendipitous to pass up.

My goal was to show people not only what it would be like as an American living in a non-tourist area of another country, but also what life is like for people in other places, and how it compares to what we are so used to in the U.S. Of course, I also wanted to highlight this intriguing artist community, that almost seemed like it should have it’s own TV show.

To be completely honest, I had to first grasp the concept of being Italian in general before I could fully understand the concept of the Via Roma artist community, so just like my week of progression, that’s how I’ll write this post.

Note: Most of these photos (AKA all the ones that look professional) were taken by my amazing host Marcella Fava!

Arriving in my Foreign Home in Italy

It was maybe the third or fourth time that someone picked me up in their own car in a foreign country, which always automatically makes the experience so much more real. My host, Marcella (Marcy for short) was waiting for me at arrivals along with her colleague/best friend Simone (Simo for short). She had texted me prior saying I’d immediately recognize her because of her bright blue hair, and of course, I did.

They are wedding photographers and videographers, and were coming from a shoot in Florence, and the timing of my flight happened to work out perfectly to pick me up in Bologna. But before we could leave the airport, I learned my very first Italian culture lesson; Coffee first.

Normally I don’t drink coffee, but I was determined to do everything they did, so I took the same small cup of expresso they had ordered, which we drank right at the counter. Now we were ready to go.

It was a 45 minute drive to Reggio Emilia from the airport, and during that time I was given a brief overview of my schedule for the week, and the explanation about why everyone has a shortened name or a nickname. The two spoke in Italian most of the time which I was fine with, and am only mentioning now because it corresponds to the end results of my experience learning a foreign language.

Anyway soon enough we made it to Reggio Emilia and the street of Via Roma where Marcy lives. This is where I would be staying in her family’s house-complex, which she appropriately refers to as Hogwarts.

Typically I stay in hotels or AirBnB’s, so staying with a family was also a completely new experience for me (I don’t even stay at my mom’s house when I visit her in Florida!). But this wasn’t like staying in one house with a family; I had my own little apartment, and so did Marcy and her husband, and her brother and his girlfriend, and then two more for her mother and father. She explained how when they first moved there they all lived in the biggest one (which is now her brother’s), but as time went on, they ended up buying most of the other units in the complex!

I was there the whole week aside from the last night when I got to stay at a really cute Bed and Breakfast called Sottotetto, owned by one of the local Via Roma community members. If you’re visiting, and want to stay on Via Roma, I’d highly recommend this place!

Anyway, back to Marcy’s place; This all fascinated me, and I would soon become used to and amused by the way Marcy called my name out her window in the morning instead of texting me to talk about the plans for the day. It was also interesting to hear the very Italian bickering from a family upstairs, and hearing the sounds of classical music float up from her father’s apartment in the afternoons.

I should also mention that my apartment was decorated with newspaper and magazine clippings about Marcy’s father, who is a famous theater actor and teacher named Antonio Fava. We didn’t talk too much about him, but I can’t deny that I was intrigued when I was able to take a look in his apartment, which looked like something you’d expect to see in a movie. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books, and his kitchen looked like it got used very often for cooking. Beyond it I could just barely see the work station where he creates masks for his performances, before it was abruptly time to go.

Where were we going? To the local market and then pizza of course.

A First Glimpse into the Community

Although in the perfect movie version of this story, I would have arrived as a typical American expat, perhaps looking to study or work abroad for a bit. But for full disclosure purposes, I’ll mention that everyone knew I was coming, and they knew who I was in the social media/blog world. For me sometimes I forget what I look like to others, since I still feel like the constant struggling dreamer who’s just eager to see the world.

That being said, I was taken aback when we walked into the community art and garden area, and everyone clapped to welcome me (normal I think for Italians to do, but definitely made me blush!). I was a bit nervous to meet people since my Italian is basically nonexistent (usually I try to learn some of the language before I go to a country but I assumed I’d pick it up living there for the week) and also since I was a bit drained and gross looking from the long flight.

I did my best to say hello, as I was ushered back and forth to meet everyone, and see everything that was going on. In the cube-structure another resident artist was hosting a spirit-animal painting workshop, and outside on the long stretch of concrete bench, there was a fabulously-dressed woman from Naples named Taryn who was orchestrating the free clothing swap. (Check out the turbans and earrings she makes on her Facebook )

One of the things I had wanted to do was dress in what the local people were wearing, and here it was basically thrown into my lap! Taryn went through several items, holding them up to me to see if they were a fit, and eventually I made out with two pairs of loose-legged capris, and a light jacket.

Later, Taryn ended up giving me a beautiful blue dress, and my very own handmade turban and earrings by her!

This community garden area and meeting space will later play an important roll in the community’s unity, but as I mentioned earlier, it took me the whole week to really grasp what it was.

The First Taste of Italy

Although I’d been to Italy twice before, it was nothing like this. There were no tourists anywhere, or shops/restaurants trying to upsell the authentic Italian aspect…it was the real deal.

Marcy asked me if I was tired or jetlagged, but since I wasn’t (I’m REALLY good at sleeping on planes) she decided to round up about half of the community to go out for pizza. It seemed cliche, and she admitted it kind of was, since typically they’d prefer to eat sushi or Chinese food.

I was obviously grateful for the decision to go for pizza, and just during that one meal I learned so much about their culture. Usually I embrace things and just go with it, but keep in mind that my project was to compare the lives of two different cultures — that goes for my Italian friends who thought some of the things I said were outrageous, when I was really just trying to explain the differences in the U.S.!

For starters, there are pages and pages of different types of pizza; not really too shocking, but after reading all of them, kind of funny to see how we completely alter pizza in the U.S. I knew already that Italians think it’s an abomination to put fruit on pizza, so I tried to ask how they felt about the Hawaiian pizza we have in the U.S. (pineapple and ham), but I think my jokes and sarcasm didn’t translate well because everyone was astonished at my question.

I also later learned that when I mentioned that it was “completely normal for everyone to order their own pizza and finish it” on my Instagram post, that they thought I was saying it as if I could never eat that much. It was interesting to see a different reaction when I explained that it was because in the U.S. it would probably be frowned upon to eat a whole pizza by yourself, since people tend to think they need to “watch their weight”.

While attempting to eat my entire pizza, I also learned that pies rarely come pre-cut, forks and knives aren’t used except to make the slices, beer is preferred over wine for most younger people, and that “talking about food while eating other food” is the most common conversation during meals.

I also caught on very quickly that meals in general, are one of the most important things in life in Italy.

Another thing I found interesting was that although many people might automatically think of Italian food as meat-heavy, there was actually a really popular vegetarian/vegan cafe called Ghirba. What was even more interesting was that the menu changed every day, and was handwritten on chalkboards in and outside.

Its location is also fascinating; located at the very end of Via Roma…INSIDE the last remaining walls of the original ancient city. So you can either eat inside at the communal hightop or the large casual dining room that also doubles as an art gallery sometimes, or outside under the arches of the old wall.

Exploring a Local Town in Italy

One trait that I’ve picked up from traveling full time, is appreciating any town or city I go to, no matter how big or small, popular or secluded it may be. I can find beauty in anything through the lens of my camera, and it wasn’t hard at all for me to find it in Reggio Emilia.

To me, the multicolored buildings, cobblestone streets, and historic yet charming facades of narrow alleys were the token ideal image you’d hope to see in a local Italian town. At least that’s probably what you’d expect to see in a movie.

Even seeing the normal lives of people just like me having afternoon aperitifs (usually an Aperol Spritz) on the wooden folding chairs and tables of cafes on the piazzas seemed surreal, but it was definitely oh so real. Kids running around gelato shops, eating gelato made fresh daily, and learning that when something doesn’t go according to plan, you go for gelato.

It wasn’t long before I knew my way between the piazza’s, and which alleys to take to get to certain areas of shops. Speaking of which, as one would expect to see in Italy, I found tons of stores displaying the latest fashions, from designer, to even H&M! One thing that did surprise me, was that as much as I said I wanted to shop local and wear what they wear in Italy, I found myself face-to-face with a mannequin wearing the exact same dress as me!

Then suddenly, from 1pm to 4pm, everything stops. As an American, at first I saw it as inconvenient. Having worked since I was 13, and never having a lunch break more than 1 hour, and now as the owner of my own business who refuses to stop working unless I have to sleep, I really had a hard time grasping the idea of slowing down.

My attempts were definitely not flawless, but I’m happy to share.

Trying to Slow Down and Appreciate Time

Part of what makes meals so important in Italy, is the time you spend with others while you’re eating them. This is a drastic contrast to anything I’ve experienced in the U.S., where meals are often rushed, and people always seem to have just enough time to squeeze you into their schedule.

I’m definitely guilty of doing this, and it was made very apparent the first time Marcy told me I was supposed to have lunch for two hours. The last time I scheduled a lunch for two hours, it was for my birthday with family members, or trying to get a really big business deal. All I could think about was that I could use one of those hours to work, but she insisted that having any less than 1.5 hours for lunch would be considered rude. So we spent about 20 minutes arguing about it (I should mention that she also told me if I wouldn’t have told them how I felt it would also have been rude), and then I ended up staying for 2 hours anyway. Talking mostly about work anyway with a guy my age (ha, yeah right, he was a few years younger) who does graphic design.

From then on, I stopped questioning the time spans she had scheduled for our meals. Instead I focused on each individual person I was meeting, what their lives were like, how good the food was, and the fact that these people were inviting me into their lives.

I was honored to be invited to three different families’ homes for dinner, where I was treated to home-cooked authentic Italian meals. These dinners were where I learned how many courses were involved in a typical Italian meal. In fact, I made the mistake of attempting to clear my plate of pasta (as you’re supposed to) at one of them, only to be surprised with the second course next, followed by dessert!

Oh, and there was also the tiny little hurtle that my laptop crashed the second day I was there. It was definitely bad luck financially and work-wise, and definitely gave me an immense amount of anxiety, but I can’t deny that it was serendipitous with the timing of this project since it literally forced me to not be able to work. (Big shout out to my assistant Corinne for handling EVERYTHING via WhatsApp, and also Marcy for taking me all over town to try to fix my laptop, then find a new one to buy. By the way, I now have an Italian MacBook).

Learning & Trying New Things

Marcy told me that every Italian person has a goal of learning to do at least one thing that they can create by hand. For some it’s cooking, for others it’s videography and for my new friend Ale, even knitting!

Somehow I managed to learn a little bit of all three. As a pasta enthusiast, I’ll admit that cooking was my favorite, so I’ll start with that one first.

I didn’t need to go far for my pasta making class, since Marcy’s mother, Mama Dina,  was the one teaching me, and our classroom was their original apartment. Now I know many of you have watched movies where the Italian mother appears to be very stern and boisterous, but I have to tell you straight up that Mama Dina was the exact opposite, and I even claimed her as my spirit animal at one point.

This woman seemed like nothing in the world could ever upset her, and there was not one second when I didn’t see her smiling or laughing. She had the spirit of a child with the intelligence of an international spy, which made her extremely fun to be around, especially when learning to cook and having aperitifs!

So Mama Dina taught me to make two of the most common types of pasta in Reggio Emilia; Tortelli and Erbazzone, both from scratch. We started with the basic flour, water, and egg mixture for the dough, then proceeded to knead and roll it until it was actually one solid mass that didn’t fall apart.

For the Erbazzone we simply rolled and stretched the dough until it was a rectangle, then pressed it along the bottom of a baking pan. On top of it we put a mixture of spinach and cheese on one side, and cooked peppers on the other. Next we made another rectangle of dough to go on top of the mixture, and then poked holes in it with a fork before brushing it with olive oil. This would be baked while we made the second pasta.

The next pasta was harder though since it involved a bit more uh, skill. The type of pasta we were making was called Tortelli, and is similar to Ravioli, however don’t call it that in Reggio Emilia or people will look at you funny. This pasta is more in the shape of a triangle, and has a little pocket inside filled with whatever you decide to stuff it with.

To make it, we had to make the dough again from scratch; this time using eggs and mixing it as if it were a volcano. For a visual, imagine you make a mound of flour, then dig a hole in the middle so it looks like a crater, then add the eggs in the center, and little by little mix them in with the flour starting from the inside to the outside.

Finally when the dough was ready, it was time to make it into pasta with one of those traditional metal pasta rollers you again probably have only seen in movies. Mama Dina showed me how to roll it out four or five times until it was thin enough to start stuffing. Then she showed me how to make the mixture of either potato or spinach, and make little dollops of it on the pasta as the stuffing.

Next, we folded the long piece of dough over so the stuffing was tucked inside, and used our fingers to press the dough together around it, leaving no air bubbles inside. Once the fillings were in place, we used a little tiny metal roller cutter to trim the long end, and then separate the pieces!

This was all going really well until suddenly Mama Dina announced she’d be back in five minutes, and left Marcy, Simo, and I alone with all of the pasta making materials and our cameras. My first thought was obviously to have Marcy make an Instagram Live of me showing the pasta making skills I had just learned, though of course, if you were watching it, you know it went terribly wrong.

It was a good learning experience, but now thousands of people have seen me completely screw up what should have been a simple pasta-rolling process. Essentially, I started at the number 8 (thinnest setting) when I should have started at 2, because everyone was saying to “start with the biggest one!”. Other local Italians from other areas were even chiming in on how to help me fix the problem (“She needs to add more flour!”), but eventually I figured it out, much to the disappointment of all the entertained viewers.

Alright so my pasta came out bellissimo, especially when paired with Mama Dina’s special aperitifs. For dessert we had a special treat, which was fresh strawberries soaked in Mama Dina’s homemade, aged Balsamic Vinegar (it was really sweet and thick!). She explained to me how traditional Italian families will start making and aging Balsamic when a daughter is born so that when she gets married the family can present it to the husband’s family as a gift…but Mama Dina was like “Nahhh, I’m keeping this”, and we got to enjoy it instead.

The other things I learned were a little bit of video editing by Simo (except this was when I accidentally crashed my laptop), and knitting by Ale. I mentioned in the beginning that Simo is the videographer that works with Marcy for weddings, and then Ale is an actor/dancer, who also happens to have an incredible taste in classical fashion, and knows how to make clothing!

I picked up the technique for knitting right away, but keeping with the theme of taking time, struggled with how long it took to see results. As always, to be completely transparent, in my mind all I could think about was how much work I could be getting done, but again this is because it’s what I’m used to. Knowing this though, I forced myself to only focus on the knitting (which probably isn’t very good for conversational skills) and found it relatively relaxing and rewarding!

Oh! I almost forgot! One more thing I learned while “living” in Reggio Emilia, was how Parmesan Cheese is made! Did you know that in order to be considered real, authentic Parmesan cheese, it MUST come from the region between Parma and Bologna (Reggio Emilia is in between the two). There’s a long, scientific explanation, but basically it’s because of the specific grass, cows, their milk, and the foundation of the process which started in that area.

It was definitely interested seeing the process it takes to make the cheese at Scalabrini, and extremely impressive when they opened the doors to “the cheese bank”. Imagine thousands of wheels of cheese stacked on shelves all the way up to a vaulted ceiling (or just look at the photo). Heaven.

The owner of this particular cheese factory was nice enough to even break open a two year old wheel for me! The process of opening it is by hand, and they emphasized that we all needed to smell the wave of scent that comes out when it cracks open. Again, heaven. Especially when paired with the local red wine they gave me…even thought it was 9 o’clock in the morning.

Having Fun Like a Local

I always appreciate when I’m given a schedule and things like “happy hour” and “aperitifs” are included. By the way, aperitifs means you buy one beverage and get an all you can eat buffet included! It’s pure magic! And usually lasts from 7-11pm!

On Friday one of the piazzas became so packed with people that I was convinced the entire city was there. I couldn’t even walk through the streets as if I were at a concert or something, but nope, just a typical Friday night! During the day on Saturday it was also busy like this, and the streets were also transformed into a market place.

Aside from drinking and going out, Marcy and some friend also arranged a special  treat for me, knowing my love of adventures. They told me we were going to go hike a popular, irregular-shaped mountain with a flat top called Pietra di Mismantova. But what they didn’t tell me was that to get there, I was going to ride on the back of a Ducati.

At first I was a tiny bit uncertain since I was in a motorcycle accident a couple years ago, but I couldn’t say no to zipping along the winding roads of an Italian country side on an Italian made motorcycle…#yolo? It was so much fun, and not to sound cliche, but I really did feel like my life was a movie.

When we finally got to the mountain, a storm decided to linger, so in true Italian form, we grabbed a coffee and waited for it to pass. The hike to the top only took about 30 minutes, and from it we could see stunning, dramatic views of the city below and mountains in the distance. Then in true-Alyssa form, I insisted on putting on a skirt and standing near the edge of a cliff for a photo…insisting that no one worry since “I’m a professional!”

When we finally got back to Reggio Emilia, we had just enough time to change for dinner, which would be hosted at none other than the family’s house of the guy driving the motorcycle!

The Beauty of the Artist Community

The initial explanation I got about Via Roma was that it was once thought of as a bad, dangerous street, because of the amount of immigrants who lived there. There’s a “hotel” called Hotel City, which is more like intermediate housing for many people that escape the turmoils of West Africa in search of a better life.

But in reality, and especially to this artist community, it’s a street of unity, that’s rich in creativity and the freedom to express it. Art is everywhere here, and in it is the powerful feelings of its creator. They love to share their views and have others share theirs as well, and really get everyone involved as much as possible.

In fact, one thing that really made me happy to see was how the community really tries to get the immigrants involved,  since in their eyes, they are of course part of the community.

The garden/art space I spoke about earlier plays an important role in this unity, because it seems to be the place where everyone comes together. Granted that may also be because there’s free wifi, but there’s also a small community garden that both residents and immigrants grow together, and thus, metaphorically grow together.

Overall I’d say my experience was definitely something you’d expect to read a book about. Well, I guess you basically have since this post is nearing 5,000 words! I’ll end it on a note that if ever given the opportunity (including if you create it) you should definitely try to experience another culture like I have during Project Expat, and Via Roma/Reggio Emilia would be a great place to do it!

They host people like they hosted me a few times a year, so if you happen to be interested, drop a comment below!