I’ve always known Rome wasn’t built in a day, but I’ve come to find out you can’t really analyze the city in a week either. 

It’s been seven days abroad, and while I have genuinely appreciated every minute of it, it’s easy to feel small in a place that is both massive and unfamiliar. 

You can only bring so many books when you travel, and I chose to bring a familiar favorite of mine, The Anthropocene Reviewed,  by John Green. 

The essay collection embarks on the daunting task of analyzing all of humanity’s existence by boiling various events, discoveries and inventions down to five-star ratings. From cave paintings to Diet Dr. Pepper, Green goes on for hundreds of pages simply about things that humans have managed to accomplish, create or love.

I chose to employ that same technique to describe what Rome has meant to me so far, and have taken note of seemingly arbitrary aspects of my home base city that have already left an impression.

Nasoni Fountains

“Nasoni” or “big nose” fountains are scattered throughout the city, offering a constant source of cool water for anyone walking through the streets. 

The spout is positioned at an incredibly awkward height, and they’re very plain. Embedded in a city rich with architectural grandeur, they’re nothing fancy. 

Regardless, I’ve seen them constantly in use by the city to quench thirst, clean scrapes and wash hands. I’m just getting acquainted with the area, but within a week of being here, I already know the exact fountain along my route to school that I have used to fill up my bottle almost every day. At this very fountain, I have seen familiar faces doing the same. While we don’t know each other, we all share a stop on our way to class, work or elsewhere. The convenience and notability of the fountains connect the city, and have already become a part of my routine as I settle in. 

I rate Nasoni Fountains 4.5/5 stars. 

The Metro

Last summer, I spent three weeks in Washington, D.C., riding the Metro every day. While here, I’m reminded of just how much I took that public transportation system for granted. This week, the Metro in Rome was down simply because it rained. Oftentimes, there are hour-long delays with no explanation whatsoever. This happened when I had an academic advising meeting, which I ran into 10 minutes late and profusely apologizing.

  “Why are you sorry,” my advisor asked. “You’re here.”

While this unreliability has already fostered a sense of anxiety in my everyday transportation, it has also forced me to slow down and adapt to inconveniences. In Rome, attitudes towards timing are generally a lot different than back in the United States. Being late isn’t an emergency, and there’s no need for specific ETAs or time constraints. Slowing down has been a challenge for me, but is something I’m growing to appreciate as the days go on.

Regardless of these lessons, I still rate the Metro 2/5 stars. 

Espresso

Ultimately, I hate the taste of espresso. I’ve already trekked through the city to dozens of cafes, hopeful that I’ll find one I miraculously enjoy in the “right” place. I’ve come to find that my attitude towards the taste is not contingent on what cafe I actually go to, and that it’s just simply not for me. 

This conclusion led me to a little family cafe just down the road from my apartment. What was supposed to be a 10-minute coffee stop before meeting my friends turned into an hour-long conversation with both of the owners. During this time, I drank an espresso. Coffee here isn’t a stop through a drive-through or chugged between classes. It’s a social event in itself. Even the way in which one is “supposed” to enjoy the drink is methodological: drink the water, stir the espresso and commonly consume in three sips. While I still don’t necessarily love the intensity or the bitterness, I find this part of my day to be a highlight. I have gone to that same cafe the past two days, and appreciate the friendship it’s already given me. 

I rate espresso 5/5 stars. 

There are so many distinct characteristics of my home base, and I’ve already grown to love so much of what makes Rome unique. I’m constantly reminded of the corners of Villanova that make it feel like home, and can draw many parallels between the communities that form through seemingly mundane aspects of routine. 

While I’m still finding my footing here in Rome, I’m headed on my first trip out of Italy. Next week, I’ll be writing from Zurich, Switzerland. 

Until then,

Emma