Through Foreign Eyes...

You know those mornings when you wake up and find five shirtless
Italian men wandering around your apartment, cooking pasta, chain
smoking, and dancing to Europop?

Oh wait. I forget this is not a normal occurrence for most people.
In fact, it's not for me, either, but as of Saturday it's been my
daily life, bizarre as it might be.

My guests arrived Saturday evening, claimed their respective places on
my couches, floors, and spare beds, changed clothes, and set out to
see, for the very first time, America--land of opportunity, chain
stores, and five-lane highways. Cameras in hand, they've set out with
energy and exuberance to see, to learn, to experience everything
"typicalo Americana". And observing them observing has been easily
the high point of the summer.

A few insights in to American culture, courtesy of my guests:

1) Hamburgers are a waste of perfectly good meat--why add crappy bread
and overly processed sauce when a good dose of olive oil would've done
the trick?

2) American women can't dress sexy. Cute, maybe. Unique, yes.
Scandalous, sometimes. Sexy, no. And really, how can one argue
fashion with a man wandering around in a light blue tracksuit, top
unzipped, tattoo of the insignia de Florencia displayed with utmost
pride?

3) Trucks are, and I quote, with the help of a pocket English-Italian
dictionary "giant, ugly, beasts". In Italy, apparently, real men
don't drive trucks, they wear matching tracksuits and suntan
regularly.

In all seriousness, though, I feel I've spent the past few days with
new eyes. So my advice? Make foreign friends. Watch them watch us,
and in watching, you will learn.

--a., in Randomgirl's stead...