Italia

I just returned from a two week trip to Italy. I met up with my sister and a friend but traveled by myself for most of it because I wanted my own “Eat, Pray, Love” experience. However, I never really got past the “Eat” part. It was more of an “Eat, Pray That I Don’t Gain Weight, Love the Tiramisu.” Several people asked tried any Italian “eggplant,” but no I was good with the food. I’m sure Italian lovin’ is nice, but have you tried a Tiramisu shaped like a plant and made primarily of cream? As my Italian friend said, food in Italy is a “religion” and I had many religious experiences with it. In fact, I had ravioli that renewed my faith, gave me hope and told me that everything would be OK. The love for food in Italy is contagious and can heal your soul. And if it doesn’t, it’s a fantastic experience.

My trip was a reward for producing my play “End of Times Therapy.” I believe in rewards for hard work, but I also believe in rewards for doing nothing, too. It’s just harder for me to justify, but that is changing. My trip to Italy came to me in a vision. For months before I left, I fantasized about eating pasta and drinking Italian wine. I would think about it late at night while I stressed about (INSERT ANYTHING GOING ON IN AMERICA). I replaced my anxiety with a vision of myself sitting by myself a carbonara with a craft of wine. I thought it was just a ridiculous fantasy, until the moment I arrived to my first “osteria,” a few hours after getting off the plane. It was late and I had to walk through a kind of quiet scary part of Mestre (one of the closest cities to Venice.) But then I walked into this traditional restaurant called Osteria La Pergola and the moment I entered the rustic room and Jacobo brought me some some bread and prosecco and carbonara, I literally wanted to cry. Rarely in life is reality better than the fantasy, but when it comes to pasta in Italy that was true for me.

I was a little shocked by how much I enjoyed all the food because I am not a foodie. Normally, I just eat to live. If I could put spinach, eggs and oranges into a pill capsule and go about my day I would consider that an efficient use of time. But that is wrong. We are meant to eat well. Food is a celebration. I just never really allowed myself to spend money on the thing that sustains me in every sense. I always thought, that’s money I could use to buy a cute top! I could find a cute top at a thrift store. What I gave myself in Italy is what Elizabeth Gilbert inspired millions of women to do in “Eat, Pray, Love,” which is to just say “fuck it” for a few weeks and indulge. It made me see my life differently, how much I am caged in by fears of body shame and nutritional myths. Who knows what will happen in the world…we gotta carpe diem ourselves into a better place.

Since I returned home people have asked me if Italians hated on me for being American. I was a little worried myself that they might spit in my food. (If they did, it was delicious). But most Italians assumed that I am Italian (which I take as a compliment), until I spoke Spanish to them at which point they deduced I was from Spain…that is, until my vocabulary hit a wall and I said, “Do you speak English?” At which point, the Italian person heaved a giant sigh. But besides this lack of enthusiasm, the general vibe I got toward America was stoic resignation combined with maybe a smirk. I told everyone that I am “so embarrassed” of my country’s current administration, but they assured me that the US has always been embarrassing. One woman shared with me her cringe when Obama liked the Roman Coliseum to Yankee Stadium. Even Obama messed up? We are lost.

Much of Europe, in fact most of the world, has some experience with dictators (hello Mussolini). This is our first. We are virgins at living with flagrant, self-seeking oppressors. Guess you never forget your first trade wars.

Anyway, there is something about being in a country where there are remnants of the world that are thousands of years old that makes you realize the transiency of it all.  Wars, plagues, corruption…it’s all been done before. I just hope we get through it in my lifetime.  Anyway, thank you Italy for tolerating another tourist and allowing me to enjoy your amazing country.