Gina Mussio is one of the peer advisers for the Office of Education Abroad. Peer advisers provide information to students about education abroad opportunities during the OEA walk-in advising hours 1-4 p.m. on Monday-Friday. They also present general education abroad information to classes, residence halls, student organizations, and during orientation sessions, fairs and information sessions as needed. Stop by the Walter International Education Center, 15 Park Place to meet Gina!
Hi, my name is Gina Mussio, I am a junior journalism major here at Ohio University and a new peer adviser for the Office of Education Abroad! I studied abroad fall 2010 in Florence, Italy. I had been planning on studying abroad for years so it wasn’t so much a question about when but more just about beginning the process. I took a super-intensive Italian language course abroad and returned proficient in Italian. My language skills were intermediate to advanced and that really helped, but knowing the language isn’t necessary to study abroad.
I think the biggest misconception people have is simply that they think they can’t study abroad — that it’s too hard, not for them or too much money. The thing is, not one person I know has returned from an experience and not felt like it was worth it. Studying abroad is something that can and will change your life in some way or another. I believe in our world today it is vital to have a knowledge and understanding of other cultures, and what better way than to immerse yourself in one?
I went to study the language but ended up learning so much more. Studying abroad changed how I feel about college. I’ve always been the “school” type but I was able to learn more in four months from simply LIVING that going to classes just to receive the credits seems a boring. Not to mention the food, nightlife, friends and traveling!
While I was in Italy, I traveled with friends all across Italy as well as the French Riviera, San Moritz, Prague, Berlin and London. I had a blast on every single trip, where I experienced things like a pub-crawl in London, a tour in a perfume factory in France and an opera in the Arena of Verona in Italy. I would study abroad again in a heartbeat! I haven’t decided where yet but I am definitely keeping my options open and searching for the next best program for me!
Sweet, delicious, decadent Italian food. I think my friend put it best when, while having a discussion about all the types of food, he exclaimed: “I’m Italian, we have the best food in the world! Why would I want to eat any other type of food?!”
I could hardly argue with him there, as the only thing objecting to any and all of the food that’s offered to me is my waistline.
l’insalata
Despite complaints of shirts being too tight and pants fitting differently, I have thoroughly enjoyed my eating experiences in Italy. It started with my mom and grandma as we just began to discover true Italian cuisine and it continues to grow three months later as nearly every day I discover new eateries, new pastries, new types of cheese, wine or pasta. Basically, I eat well.
This includes my newest adventures into the world of cooking.
cooking cooking cooking
I am definitely not new to the world of cooking in general, I came into the situation with some previous experience. What I didn’t have experience in was cooking daily, for every meal, just to survive. Still, it started out fun — a type of adventure, and I’ve gotta say, it only gets easier and more natural every day. Sure, some days we eat less of a dinner and more of a “something-compiled-together,” but who doesn’t? Another plus to the food of Italy is how easy seemingly complicated recipes are. I have created delicious dinners shared with roommates and friends with just your basic ingredients.
I’m not the only one who feels this way, as Italy is widely known for its cucina povera–or “poor cooking.” This is because the meals are usually simple, inexpensive and are meant to be made in large amounts. There are usually no fancy sauces, complicated seasonings or elaborate creations. The plate may look pretty, but it’s simply because the food is good. No diet stands a chance against the texture of the pasta or the smoothness of the coffee or a cooked just-right bistecca fiorentina, Florentine steak.
gnocchi
In addition to the obvious deliciousness of Italian food is how the Italians eat. It’s an event! One that I have grown to expect and greatly enjoy. Dinner never begins before 8:00 and can easily last for a couple of hours. Describing an Italian dinner could be another post in and of itself, but I’ll give a brief description of some of the differences. For instance, Italians do not eat food insieme, together, like we do, but one plate at a time. Il primo piatto generally consists of a type of pasta, or rice, sometimes with vegetables or a meat sauce. Il secondo piatto is your meat portion of the meal, sometimes with some form of potatoes but more often its just meat– sausage, beef, chicken breast etc.
Easily complimented with a glass of Chianti- a specialty of Tuscany.
The idea is to take both a first and second plate. Yes, it’s a lot of food and while I’m getting more used to it, I don’t think I’ve left a meal feeling anything less than very full. Thats okay — if the only con to my four month relationship with Italian food is a larger waistline, I think I’ll survive. Besides, I heard of this great secret Gelateria thats at least a 15 minute walk from my apartment…that counts as exercise right?
Living in Italy is kind of like living in a dream. Not because it is all picturesque (although, it is) or scary (although, it is), but because you can’t control anything. It’s really difficult to make things happen when you can’t speak the language; so instead, you spend a lot of time letting things happen, which isn’t always bad. Sometimes it can even be fun(ny).
Take, for instance, my recent run-in with an Italian student. Granted, this interaction occurred at six in the morning, standing outside a discotheque, and in very cold temperatures (I still don’t understand the whole Celsius to Fahrenheit thing), but we got into a bit of a disagreement (I think). I jokingly said “Andiamo. Dormiamo” which means “Let’s go. Let’s sleep.” in Italian (I’m trying to use Italian when I can.) This Italian student seemed a little shocked. He had been speaking in English to me the whole night (with good reason, “Andiamo. Dormiamo” is about the extent of my Italian right now), and he seemed upset that I hadn’t spoken in Italian with him. He then proceeded to give me a mini lecture about how Americans or the English are always coming to other countries and expecting to speak English even though they know the language of the other country. I tried vehemently to assure him that this was not my case. I don’t think he believed me.
Or, you may want to consider my recent experience on a tram. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of public transit. It’s much cheaper than taxis and it beats walking. What I’m not a fan of is the fact that the ATM (Milan’s name for the mass transit) Point won’t issue me a pass that I applied for three weeks ago. So instead of having a convenient card to swipe when I get on a bus, tram or the metro, I have to buy two-day passes for 5.50 euros. It’s a shame. After much watching, I became convinced that you didn’t have to buy a new two-day pass every time. Ticket inspectors only check to see if you have a ticket (or so I thought), so as long as you keep a two-day ticket in your pocket, you will be alright, right? Wrong. In my first attempt at trying this technique, I was stopped by a ticket inspector. Apparently, when you swipe a ticket, the machine digitally stamps it, and if it’s not stamped, then you are in trouble. 34 euros worth of trouble. So now I’m back to buying two-day passes.
Or, take my first Italian dinner. I had been to a couple of Apertivos, which are basically happy hours except backwards (you buy a drink and then get free buffet-style food), but these aren’t really the same as real dinners because you don’t end up eating very much. So about a week ago, I was invited to a real Italian dinner at a restaurant. I was ecstatic. The dinner was supposed to start at 9:30. I couldn’t get my roommate, Johannes, to leave until 9:00. I knew that this would not be enough time to get there, but he seemed to know where he was going so I thought “a couple of minutes late, what’s the harm?” Johannes then proceeded to ignore me when I knew which bus to take (although he did so goodheartedly and I must admit I wasn’t very confident in my knowledge). When we finally got off the tram, it was 10:00 and we had about a 30 minute walk. This 30 minute walk was made better by Johannes’s continuous joking, which involved him laughing about how worried I was that we wouldn’t get there in time. “Spencer,” he would say, “we are in Italia. They aren’t even eating yet.” But we finally arrived at the dinner at 10:30. I was so worried that I would have missed the meal. Everyone was seated when we walked in. But that was it. People were sipping wine, but no food had been served. I took a seat and watched the amazing-ness of Italian dinners. We were eating with about 50 college-aged students. There was a lot of chanting and singing and tomfoolery. It was so much fun. And then we were served a pasta as our first course! Then we received half of a pizza as our main course! Delicious!
You may also be surprised to know that I was turned down from an Italian discotheque. The club in question was called La Banque. Supposedly, it’s one of the best clubs in Milan. I went with my friends and we all stood in line, waiting for them to let us in. When we got to the front, the bouncer looked at my (very nice) blue t-shirt and pointed to the neck. He said some words in Italian and then pointed to another boy’s neck and then another’s. I immediately understood the pattern. They had collars; I did not. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. My friends seemed more concerned than I was. One of them even tried giving me her scarf to cover up my non-collaredness. Obviously, this didn’t work so I was forced to go home. Since I didn’t have an ATM ticket with me, I decided to walk home. I don’t recommend this for safety reasons, but it was a beautiful night in Milan and I greatly enjoyed it.
And lastly, on my latest adventure grocery shopping, I decided to buy some granola with chocolate in it, thinking it would be good to have in my vanilla yogurt. The box said “Cioccolato belga e Nocciole;” I ignored the Nocciole part. When I opened it a couple of days ago to start eating, I tasted something that was not chocolate at all. In fact, it tasted an awful lot like peanut butter…. That’s when the meaning of Nocciole dawned on me. My Italian vocabulary grew.
Some days, you wake up in another country. When this happens to me, I just follow the stream of people out of the airport, onto a train, around the central station and then shyly call a taxi to take me to my new home. And this is how I arrived in Milan, Italy.
When I arrived at my residence, I quickly realized that communicating here was going to be more of a problem than I had initially thought. The receptionist rambled off a quick monologue or two in Italian before I was able to shake my head and try to convey to him that I couldn’t speak Italian. This consisted of me saying “Non italiano,” him saying “Non?,” him waving his hand (meaning “none at all?”) and me nodding yes. After we got this figured out, we bumbled through a half hour of me signing papers that I didn’t understand and getting rules that I couldn’t read. That whole thing about all Europeans being able to speak English… not true. However, I’m somehow still alive after a week, so I’ve been able to get food, public transit tickets and such.
I am living in an international residence, so no one in my building is Italian. They are from all over Europe – Germany, Greece, Poland, Romania, Spain, Portugal and France. Some can speak Italian (the Spanish individuals usually can because apparently Spanish and Italian are so closely related that the Spanish students can attend courses held in Italian without formally studying any Italian) and some can’t. We communicate with each other however we can, mostly speaking in English or switching between languages, but we have all bonded very quickly over two things:
1. Italian bureaucracy and business hours. I thought American bureaucracy was bad. I was severely mistaken. There are so many unnecessary things that happen in Italy. For example, in my residence, everyone has three keys – one to get into the building (except there is a 24-hour receptionist so we never use it), another to get into our flat (of which there exists only one between three people) and a third to get into our rooms. Completely unnecessary. Additionally, stores and restaurants actually close in Italy at a time in which the store owners can go have dinner with their families. After eight, it’s almost impossible to find anywhere to shop.
2. Fire alarms. My first week here, the fire alarm went off at least once every day, sometimes twice. The first time it happened was at three in the morning. There was no loud noise, just a loud voice on the intercom saying things in Italian. So, I was rather confused. Luckily, my roommate helped me out. Supposedly, the alarms are fixed now. We can only hope.
It’s excellent to be making friends from all over the world and from Italy. It’s interesting to get their perception of the United States. I think everyone thinks that I am super rich and that I spend all of my free time in big cities. No one seems to understand why I would want to spend time in Europe. They say, “You live in America. Why wouldn’t you want to study in America?” And I respond, “Because I live in America, obviously.”
Despite its bureaucracy and its fire alarms, Milan is wonderful. Universita degli Studi di Milano is so beautiful and classical and it feels so scholarly. It is not the oldest university in the city, but the buildings sure feel old (I don’t know there exact age). The university consists primarily of one building that is broken up into sections by outdoor hallways and green spaces. It is one of the most interesting buildings I have ever encountered. My professor is wonderful. He invited me to Italian coffee the first day. He laughed at my reaction when I tasted how strong it was. It was quite strong. But I love how quickly bonds between professors and students form here. All of my fellow students are older than me; most are in their mid twenties. I think this is part of the reason that the students and professors get along so well.
Everything that happens every day is a completely new experience. Riding the tram, applying for a mass transit card, seeing Duomo, accidentally walking into a museum, shopping in Italian super markets, learning how to use Euros effectively. Some of these things I never thought would be a problem, but they are. And everything is a learning experience.
My Italian language course is held completely in Italian, which was a little intimidating at first but is definitely the best way to learn the language. We communicate in the class much the same way I communicate with people in Milan – by pointing and using our small vocabularies to say something meaningful.
I’m getting hungry. I should go find something to eat. Now, if only there was a place open at 8:30 pm on a Sunday….
Years of dreaming, months of planning, days counted down and a nine-hour plane ride later, I finally made it to Italy! I have wanted to study in Italy since I was a little girl. Search through old journals of mine from elementary school and you’ll find things such as “Someday I’m going to go to Italy, but not just go, I want to live there at least for a few months or so…wait, does a few months count as living somewhere?” I was a curious girl obviously.
Anyway, after researching, running around campus talking to various directors and frequenting OHIO’s Office of Education Abroad every other day, choosing a program, applying for a loan, applying for a scholarship and getting passport pictures taken over and over again for various forms, meeting with a travel agent to plan our trip before I started school and driving to every family members house to find the best (aka biggest) suitcase I could bring… I’m here! I’m in Italy!
My mom, my grandma and I flew into Rome on August 2 to start our two weeks of traveling. We spent four days in Rome, four days in Florence, two days in Venice and five days in Milan. We did the trip like typical tourists: getting lost, complaining about our feet, asking for butter for our bread and trying to eat dinner too early. On the other hand, we walked 182374198375 miles a day (with my 79-year old grandma!) ate amazing food, saw all the main sights of each location and stumbled by all with my lousy Italian.
I made this video from photos of our two weeks traveling. Of course it doesn’t describe every detail of our experiences, but I think it accurately shows the fun we had and some of the beautiful things Italy has to offer.
My mom and grandma left August 18 and I met my Italian family for the first time later that day. I have been talking with them for a of couple years now, after they contacted us about my grandfather’s death. Usually I would attempt Italian and my cousin Vero (Veronica) would attempt English. Now I would be living with them until September 1! Two weeks of only Italian with people I didn’t know–mamma mia!
You can imagine that there were barriers. The most glaring one, the language, was frustrating and limiting and difficult. But there were others too, a prime example would be my first morning living with my family.
The Breakfast
“The Breakfast” happened my first morning I was with my family. I woke and made my way downstairs, not really sure of the usual routine or what I should be doing. Vero, my cousin, was up and sitting at the table on her computer. Breakfast was ready and the rest of the family would be there shortly. In my half-awake state I sat down and looked at the large bowl of warm milk, spoon and biscotti that was in front of me. I picked up the spoon, then put it down. I looked around the table. Picked up the bowl, then put it down. “Mangia, mangia” Vero said, “eat, eat.” “No Ill wait for you,” I said, thinking of the grand idea to watch what she did then mimic. “No, no I never eat breakfast, go ahead!” I sat and stared for a moment more before, surrendering to the fact that I was clueless, I finally had to ask Vero how I was supposed to eat breakfast–like a four-year-old! The breakfast became a joke between all of us during that week. I couldn’t deny how silly the situation was and wasn’t against laughing about it. In case you were wondering, they dip the biscotti in the warm milk and then eat it. It is the same idea as cereal just…not.
After a week in Pioltello (a suburb of Milan) with my family, we headed north to a tiny mountain town called Piazzatorre to finish out the rest of the August vacation.
The view from their apartment
Paty and Roby had to work, so it was just us girls living with their grandparents, Rosanna and Jones. In Piazzatorre we hung out with two of their friends, Marco and Umberto, who I’m thankful to now call friends of my own. We went ice-skating, hiking and to the local pub to play fooseball. The town is absolutely gorgeous, like a little mountain postcard.
Looking back, everything about my stay was great, however, it wasn’t always easy. Being in a room with four Italian teenagers when you don’t speak the language isn’t necessarily easy. We would go out to dinner and I wouldn’t say more than a couple of words, which would sound unbelievable for anyone who knows me. Still, after a couple of days I stopped caring as much, I loosened up and I laughed at my awful language skills. I improved so much in those two weeks simply because I was forced to improve to survive the two weeks. In the time it takes to say Ciao, I went from studying the Italian language and culture in America to the being completely submersed. Definition of culture shock! Fortunately for me it also became the definition of an amazing vacation.
Tkx to all who attended our #TasteOfStudyAbroad yesterday -- we ran out of shirts! If you have more questions, stop by advising M-F 1-4 p.m. 18 hours ago
