The Day Before I Leave

I am so close to being done with packing I can taste it. But instead of finishing, at nearly 3 in the morning, I am taking a break to create a blog. I think it's a wise decision.

If you care to know, I'll tell you that right now I'm feeling excited- a little anxious (I wish I understood the subjunctive better)- but basically just absolutely amazed that the time has actually come for me to go to Italy. I'm also feeling a little self-conscious because I feel like this post is sort of uninteresting and not even a little clever, and I can't imagine they'll get any better.

But here's something I've been thinking about as I prepare to leave. Several people upon my telling them that I would be studying abroad in Itay have responded with something along the lines of: "Oh great! Maybe you'll meet a nice Italian boy." Oftentimes the phrase is modified to "cute Italian boy" and once it was even "You'll get to look at all those hot Italians." And at first I thought it was sort of funny, but as it continued to happen, I began to be really bothered by it. I mean, isn't it sort of a strange suggestion that I would study Italian for years, go through all the paperwork and bureaucracy to make this trip happen, work 10 and 13 hour days this summer to make the money for said trip, and travel to another continent all in the hopes of finding a boyfriend? Nevermind the assumption of heterosexuality for a moment (though it ought to be examined too), and the obvious lack of knowledge about my ethics that would allow someone to believe that I would participate in or derive pleasure from oggling and objectifying the bodies of Italian citizens, and tell me what it is about Italy, or is it simply Western and Central Europe in general, that would cause so many people to have this same reaction? There is some odd eroticization and romanticization of the Italian Other going on here. And it's even stranger because almost as often as someone expresses the wish that I will find a mate in some hypothetical Italian man, someone else warns me or mentions having heard something to the effect of Italian men are macho chovinists who will verbally and sometimes physically harass women in the pursuit of sex and believe that American girls are "easy". There is a bewildering sort of double-speak in which I am simultaneously encouraged to seek out/fall in love with and also avoid/fear Italian men.

Hmm...that was sort of heavy for a first post and I sort of just ended that last paragrah really abruptly. Oh well; it is three in the morning afterall. In any case, I'd love if anyone would care to share their thoughts on what I've already written or tell me what it is you people actually want to read about when I'm posting on here. Hopefully I'll find the will to keep updating once I'm actually in Italy.

Alla Prossima,
Sarah