A Return to Americana and a Time for Thanks

Dinosaur and I have lived in Sicily for nearly seven months now.  Upon first arrival, the culture shock was a relentless bombardment.  In the beginning, every move required extra thought – thirst was followed by grabbing a bottle of water rather than turning on the tap (not that the water here isn’t potable, it’s just hard and mineral-y); hunger meant a language-strained trip to either a bar (which serves a type of fast food, not just drinks) or a restaurant; driving took extra courage; walking on the tiny sidewalks (if any) took even more guts.  The learning curve was nearly vertical, and I often felt like an infant, interacting with the world for the first time.  I spent most of my time in the beginning wandering through town, attempting to shop, learning Italian, and hanging out with Dinosaur in the evenings and on the weekends.  I had little reason to go to base, so my exposure to other Americans was limited.

But seven months have passed.  Dinosaur and I have made numerous American friends, but the number of our Italian friends remains at Bella and IMMA, as well as the Italians who work at the hotel where we first stayed (but that hardly even counts, since they speak flawless English).  I’m on base nearly every day now, whether to workout at the gym or use the internet (since we still do not have it at our house and it is beginning to look like we never will).  Though I still buy my produce, eggs, and bread exclusively out in town, I am guilty of purchasing the remainder of my grocery needs at the commissary on base (and why wouldn’t I? – they’re cheaper than out in town and they’re brands that I know and love).  With my recent adoption of an adorable Sicilian mutt puppy, Fluffy Bear, I spend even more time on base, since walking the dog on the narrow, busy Sicilian streets is dangerous and stressful, and there are few fenced sports fields outside of base in which to let Fluffy Bear run free.

The progression from culture shock to settling in is a curious one.  It is easy to become comfortable in my habitual ways.  I am at a point where the new and shocking everyday experiences are few and far between.  I must push myself constantly to seek out new challenges and continue to explore and learn about my host country. 

I believe I’m in a not-so-uncommon cultural dip.  Revelations and discoveries must be sought, as well as experiences outside my comfort zone.  And that is why I wanted to share this with you, readers.  I have shared with you times of joy and moments of embarrassment, moments of wonder and times of frustration.  I wanted to also share with you this new development where I find myself shifting back into the habits of a typical, comfortable American life.  I have loved sharing my Italian adventures with you thus far, and I cherish your comments and encouragement.  I suppose what I am saying is that in this week of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for you - the friends who read my blog and join me in this journey.  I am thankful that this blog nudges me to continue seeking out new experiences, allowing me to make the most of my time in Italy.  Thank you, friends.  Let us continue on with the journey!