I recently came back from a trip to Italy, my parent’s homeland. As a first-generation American-Italian, I have been raised to keep the family traditions and culture in my own family. It’s been twenty-four years since my husband ventured to Italy, his parents are from Sicily. As for me, eighteen years since I stepped foot on Italian soil. For my growing teen daughters, this was their first time experiencing an international trip.
We decided to do a cultural and art tour of Italy. Going to Rome where we toured the Vatican, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Sistine Chapel, the Colosseum, Palatine Hill, and the Roman Forum. Heading to Florence we learned about the most powerful family in Italy, The Medici Family, visiting the Uffizi Galleria, The Galleria dell’ Accademia (the great David Statue by Michelangelo), Pitti Palace, the Medici Chapel, the Florence Cathedral, and finally traveling to Siena and San Gimignano. It was a whirlwind tour with adventures of rich pasta, yummy gelato, and lots of wine!
Rome was like a heart beating and pulsing constantly to the rhythm of the people flowing through the streets. Florence was more of a small town surrounded by incredible churches, duomos, and historical structures that have remained intact for hundreds and hundreds of years.
We traveled during what travel agents call “shoulder to shoulder” season. Hmmm, they weren’t kidding. Endless students and foreigners from all over the world flocked to Italy.
It was exciting to speak my first language, Italian. It was also very cool to hear the most romantic, beautiful language there is on the planet (okay, I’m biased) spoken. However, what we also found was that everyone spoke English. Not perfect for some, but enough for an American like myself to understand.
I’ll be honest, it was cool that English was spoken, but also not so cool. I just wasn’t expecting all the English. There were many different dialects of Italian too, but there were also plenty of foreign languages spoken at the souvenir shops, restaurants, and hotels. It was a melting pot of different cultures and languages surrounded by the Italian country’s heritage, similar to the United States of America.
I was initially shocked, but then I realized, my parents immigrated to the USA in the mid-1960s. They had to learn the language and culture. Italians have been coming to America since the turn of the twentieth century assimilating to the American culture. Italy was no different.
Many folks whom we spoke with immigrated to Italy from their home country for work, family obligations, and a better life (vita bella!) We also met true Italians, like the Romans and the Fiorentinas, but as one gentleman told us, “We’re all Italian by choice!” They’ve accepted the life and culture of this beautiful country and brought their traditions as well.
I’m reminded of the many stories of the Bible, especially in the book of Genesis: 11:1-9, The Tower of Babel. The people at the time were settled in one place and they had one language. They were comfortable and wanted to build a tower to the heavens, but God confused the people to disperse them and populate the earth. For centuries since then, humans have traveled to faraway lands.
When you think about it, it’s like a marriage of culture and heritage. Very rarely do I meet someone when asked where they’re from they say they are a true, true American. Instead, they’ll say that they have family roots in Germany, Sweden, Spain, Ireland, etc.
Upon our return from Italy, I shared our experience with my parents. I shared how immigration and gentrification has changed their home country. It’s not just there, it’s everywhere. We are more mobile with technology and travel. So many different cultures have evolved.
I believe in holding to the stories of the past, traditions of the past, and foods of the past. And, in Italy, there is nothing more wonderful than bringing family together over a shared meal because that’s what being Italian is all about. In the end, we are all unified by one thing: The Human Race. God made us in His image and to have dominion over animals and land. Genesis 1:26-28.
Until next time…
Arrivederci!