Caotica Roma

Make no mistake about it, living in Rome is absolute chaos. There are so many day-to-day interactions that simply, don’t make sense. Behaviors, sign and body language, how business is conducted, cultural norms – it’s enough to drive Italians and non-Italians mad. But for some weird, freakish reason, I absolutely LOVE it!

The other day, I had to buy a computer printer. I knew exactly where to go. There’s a Euronics (European chain-store, filled with reasonably priced electronics) store right outside of Piazza del Popolo. I looked at all of the models, confirmed the model I wanted would print for an IBM-compatible and Mac computer, bought the right connector cord (to go wireless would undoubtedly create some massively technical issue I couldn’t solve), and bought my printer. Then I realized, I needed paper. I asked the cashier for carta.

She replied, “Photografica?”

I replied, “No, non rigata (plain).”

She shook her head no.

I asked, “Dove (where)?”

She shrugged her shoulders at me and replied, “Non so, signora.” She didn’t know.

It made no sense to me, whatsoever, that I could buy a printer for my computer, but I couldn’t buy computer paper to go with it. Nor did the cashier know where to buy the paper, and if she did, she certainly wasn’t going to tell me.

That, my family and friends, sums up Rome for you! And I LOVE it!

This kind of scenario plays out each and every day for each and every one of us who lives in and around Rome over the most common, normally mundane, random interactions (bus schedules, auto repair, taxi stands, ATM’s, etc.) I’ve heard whoppers from all walks of life - Roman, Japanese, Italian tourists, Australians, Americans, Spanish, etc. After hearing and sharing our experiences, we all agree, it’s absolutely nuts in Rome. And I LOVE it!

If living in Rome for longer than 90 days, you need a visa, which you must have before arriving in Rome. Within 5 days of your arrival, you must also apply for the permesso di soggiorno, the residential permit, from the police. But, before you can apply for your permesso, you have to have a codice fiscale (like a social security card). Like good citizens, we applied for everything in a timely manner. However, only I have received my codice fiscale, no one else in the family has and none of us has received our permesso. We hear we might receive by the time we leave…

I love that things don’t make sense. There’s no set of rules to learn and follow. The boundaries are like over cooked spaghetti. There isn’t a pattern. No expectations. Everything you do, it’s like doing it for the very first time. Imagine!

I had to go to three different markets to find our favorite brand of espresso. The market closest to us stopped carrying it. We asked when it would be restocked and they said they didn’t know. Another market was out, probably because our neighborhood had wiped them out. We found it, in a different neighborhood and bought two cans. Who knew when we’d see it again? Two months later and it has since reappeared at our market.

For Americans, this can be an extremely frustrating experience, because we’re led along our entire lives. Everything is planned and laid out for us. We rarely have to think. Our service industry smiles and asks us how they can help. Our stores are overflowing with merchandise.

Romans don’t smile without a reason, and I’m okay with that. I smile at all of them all of the time. I’m sure they think I’m an absolute fool. I’m just so happy living here, I can’t help myself. If someone smiles back, I know they are American.

I love walking in the streets of Rome every day and not knowing what all of these very animated and talkative Italians are saying. I mean, if I concentrated really hard, I could pick up bits and pieces of their conversations, and it would probably help my Italian, but why? To me, all of these Italian conversations are like beautiful music, in different tones, swirling all around me.

I love the mild climate, the sunny skies. I love hearing the horse and carriages clip-clopping down our cobblestone street. I love all of the dogs – Romans love walking their dogs (and they are very good at picking up after them, unlike Parisians.) I love the ancient structures littered throughout our city. I love the confusing, winding streets. I love the atmosphere of Rome, which to many, is too crazy.

There’s a little comfortable niche I’ve carved out, out of all of this chaos, for myself (and family) in Rome and I LOVE it!