The problem in this story lies not with her fellow students nor with the locals, but with the woman in the mirror:
While NYU is famed for its foreign offerings in places like Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, Berlin, Paris, and Shanghai, I opted for Florence, Italy, in the fall...
I imagined fun potluck dinners with my roommates,
summer flings with people who called me "bella," gelato that dripped
down my fingers in the heat, and natural wine that paired effortlessly
with good conversation and better prosciutto.
But when my semester
in Florence came to an end, I grew to despise the sights, hated the
people, and couldn't wait to get back home to my campus in New York...
My routine looked drastically different from that of my roommates. I had
a GPA to upkeep and an online internship. I wasn't out partying; I was
home working most of the time, and it became difficult to concentrate on
my assignments...
The roommate schedule is the only complaint that I find valid. How horrible for her, though, that everyone else had different fantasies--and lived them!--depriving her of "fun potluck dinners with my roommates". Aww, and she couldn't find anyone who would call her pretty. Self-centered much, lady?
Let's continue:
Since three-day weekends are the standard for NYU's study-abroad
programs, almost everyone chose to take $20 Ryanair flights to places
like Croatia and Munich for Oktoberfest. To me, this seemed like an
exhausting form of escapism. I was convinced my peers were doing it only
to freshen up their social-media profiles and make their friends back
home jealous...
But most weekends, I stayed at home in Florence, while my classmates
burned themselves out with travel. During those lonely weekends, I ran
along the Arno river, popped into free gallery exhibits, and cooked with
ingredients I found at local vegetable markets. I was left in the
apartment completely alone. This lack of human interaction didn't help
me feel optimistic.
I was disillusioned by the fact that no one in my study-abroad program seemed to have my values.
I'm not quite sure whom I resented more during my stay in Italy: my
American classmates or the locals. The latter is often described as
soulful, charming, and overflowing with hospitality, but I could provide
concrete examples of them being hostile, inconsiderate, and
preposterous. For example, one time, two women were talking about me on
the bus, looking at me up and down and scoffing. There were a couple of
incidents of verbal confrontations.
I started to protest by
presenting myself to the public in a way I knew they'd hate. I started
wearing American-brand athleisure, Nike Air Max 97s, and oversize
hoodies. The Italians rolled their eyes as I passed them on the street.
I know it's only one example, but two women talk about her and the world comes to an end? And in response, she chooses to intentionally antagonize the locals?
In Europe in general, and in Italy in particular, how you dress is important. Any European can pick out an American from 100 meters; we stand out, we don't dress as snazzy as they do. Heck, I've been known to wear cargo shorts whilst walking around Rome! She had to know the locals wouldn't like the way she dressed, assuming she dressed as an American--and she also didn't have to care what they said! Granted, the locals didn't need to participate in "verbal confrontations", either, but that's an American viewpoint, I don't know if that's an Italian viewpoint. And when in Rome...
Let's get back to the cry-fest:
I was consistently frustrated by the fact that my life back in New York
was not put on hold. Fellow NYU students who stayed in New York were
actively pursuing in-person internships, networking with zeal, and
making moves to advance their futures. I felt like I was wasting
precious time in Florence.
Are you kidding? She's frustrated that everyone else's life didn't stop while she was in freakin' Florence? Said in best Darth Vader voice: the entitlement is strong with this one.
Send me to Florence for a year. I volunteer for the suffering.