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October 19, 2005

Coffee: An Introduction

"Tall one-percent no-whip mocha" does not translate into Italian. As I stood in the dimly lit coffee shop (or "bar," as the fading sign outside read), I was shocked to find the menu approximately 2 feet tall and written in chalk. The wrinkled man behind the counter was staring at me with a puzzled expression as he wiped his hands on his coffee-stained apron.

"Um, ok, café americano," I stuttered, desperately searching for something familiar. The man placed a china saucer on the counter in front of me. I watched as he brewed a small amount of coffee and then proceeded to fill the rest of the cup with hot water. I wasn't in Starbucks anymore.

"Can I get that to go? Porta via?" I asked as he placed the smallest cup of joe I had ever seen in front of me. The man raised his eyebrows and responded with, "Un euro."

I am no coffee expert. Born and raised in Kennebunkport, Maine, I moved to New York city at age 17 to pursue my dancing career. After one year working with a jazz dance company, I was ready to buckle down with my studies -- but never at the expense of my adventuring. I got accepted to study communications at The American University of Rome. The idea of moving to Europe and experiencing a whole new culture excited me. By August of 2004, I was sipping coffee at an outdoor table, gazing at the cobblestone and people strolling by, babbling in a tongue I could only dream of understanding.

I glanced down at my cup, pondering if I could ever understand the coffee as well.

It has been over a year now that I have been living here. Within that time I have made my cultural blunders: like wearing sneakers on a Saturday night, ordering the wrong wine with the wrong cheese, and an array of mispronunciations of famous buildings and monuments.

I do, however, feel that I may finally be getting the hang of life in Rome. Aside from university, I have a job working in a restaurant, an apartment within walking distance of all the major sites, a boyfriend who doesn't speak English, and a grasp on the real difference between a cappuccino and a cafe latte.

Posted by Kelsea at 1:50 PM | Permalink

Comments

I read about that shoe issue in a forum a while ago. That's how europeans detect american tourists: they wear sneakers when not going to the gym, and they wear white socks.

Posted by: scott (dugie) at October 19, 2005 08:35 AM

I can only imagine how strikingly different the change must have been for you. As much as I also find cultural change exciting, I can only imagine how perspective changing such a drastic move can be, especially from here in sheltered Maine. Best of luck, in every endeavour.

Posted by: Ben Row at October 19, 2005 02:43 PM

Ciao-
I just think its so great that Providence Journal has given this space to what promises to be a great column. Having done some travelling in Europe myself, never lived there though I dream of it, I find your commentary and insight, from this limited sample which I hope promises more of the same, to be both astute and penetrating.

Posted by: Jey at October 20, 2005 12:47 AM

I went to Italy this summer and it was amazing. I went to a small village called Praiano, about 50 miles from Naples. Then I went to Rome. I know exactly how you feel about the coffee! It was quite a shock, but then I started trying new types of Italian breakfast beverages and lo and behold, I fell in love with a cafe late. If you get the chance, definately have one!

Posted by: Jesse at November 11, 2005 10:52 AM

October 19, 2005

Coffee: An Introduction

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