If you’d told me a year ago today that I’d spend my entire third year just drinking aperol and editing my Instagram feed, I’m not sure I would’ve believed you. Well, whilst I definitely anticipated a year abroad in Italy – no big surprise considering my Italian and Linguistics degree – I certainly had no idea how my year would be structured.
Thanks to my college, I was able to spend a whole year studying at the University of Pavia for free through an exchange programme. I’d seemingly moved from one of the most high-pressure universities in the world to a university known for their medicine, the discovery of the ‘volt’, and alleged alumnus Christopher Columbus. That sounded like a lot of pressure; I worried that I was in for Oxford 2.0, just entirely in Italian. The first – and biggest – mistake was knowing next to nothing about a country I was about to uproot my life to spend ten months in. Prior to my year abroad, I’d visited Italy only once (which was after I’d already started my degree). Sure, I liked classical music and pasta but knew next to nothing about Italian society or politics other than Mussolini and World War II, which I imagined was slightly outdated for 2023. My Italian was shaky at best, as I somehow found it easier to do a written translation of a 20th century novel than string together a sentence talking about my day. Whilst I enjoyed many aspects of the year abroad, I found myself scratching my head at many of the cultural differences.
One thing I hated was the late dinner times. Whilst I can admit that it feels comically early to eat dinner at, say 6pm, I found myself ravenous by the time 8pm rolled around and people were still only just starting to think about dinner. The slow and relaxed service reflected the nonchalant nature of Italians, who seemed to be in no particular rush: unless it was for a coffee, of course. I got whiplash seeing people spend hours at a restaurant, laughing away with a bottle of house white, yet in cafes there was a turnover of people going in for an espresso and coming back out in a mere half minute.
I observed multiple food-related customs: no cappuccinos after lunch. It’s actually rather rude to sit down and enjoy your coffee, and instead you should be perched across the bar telling the barista that you’ve had too long of a work day. Cafes turned into bars, espressos into aperols, but one thing that stayed constant was their appreciation of food.
The university environment relayed a similar image: only lectures, and short exams which I never took because nobody cared about them. The year was divided into two terms, roughly four months each and, at least for Modern Languages, they hardly checked if you were there. I watched people go on holiday mid-term, and I soon followed. In fact, many students simply went home on weekends. It was a vastly different experience to that at Oxford, but after talking to friends I think it’s Oxford that’s the odd one out here. It was strangely refreshing to be a part of a community that didn’t care whether I did my work or not, and although my Italian language skills were my biggest focus of the year, I otherwise treated it like a gap year. I felt like a travel influencer, travelling not just around Italy but being able to experience parts of Greece and France too. I found it particularly interesting crossing the border between Italy and France on the train, exploring the cities in between which seemed to be in limbo. There was a mutual understanding that either language worked there.
However, one thing I never got used to was the racial discrimination. I unfortunately expected it in southern regions like Naples, which many warned me about, but felt disappointed at the racist remarks hurled by people from Milan or Pavia, both of which were much more cosmopolitan. I found that when it comes to discrimination, they were a lot more vocal than anything I’d experienced in Oxford or London. Sometimes, it seemed like the only way to get out of such situations was to say that I was actually British, which was then met with pity that we’d left the EU. It felt problematic having to weaponise my “Britishness”, but when push comes to shove, I thought I’d rather escape an uncomfortable situation by letting others coo about the cons of Brexit.
Despite having to adjust to many of the cultural quirks of Italy, I’m thoroughly grateful for the experience. In hindsight, however, I definitely should’ve researched the country more thoroughly before moving! As I’ve said to many who’ve asked, Italy, at least for me, is a country definitely worth visiting, and if I could’ve truly had a year long holiday there, perhaps I would’ve loved it more.