“Excuse me, dove…dove…St. Peter’s Basilica?” With imploring faces, the American family, fanny packs and all, was asking me for directions! This was the highlight moment of my first trip to Roma. By week two, I had on my new Italian skirt, earrings, shirt, sunglasses and Old Navy flip-flops. As I gave them directions, I was reeling as if I had a couples glasses of vino.

Here in Urbino, I haven’t been mistaken for native. Perhaps this is because I haven’t donned the Italian wares this time around. But,  maybe more so, it is because I’m often walking around with a group of obvious Americans, while in Roma I was often alone. Whatever the reason, neither Italians nor foreigners have yet to ask or speak to me like an Italian. And yes, it’s a disappointment. I would claim this heritage any day.

In this hot summer period, I’ve noticed strict differences between natives and non-natives. One, difference is the shoes, or scarpe. On these high hills with uneven paths, the women of this town wear the highest, most uncomfortable beautiful shoes. Even this one below made me do a double take. I don’t even own a pair of those back home.

Go nonna Go!

Another difference is the overall appearance especially of the women. After walking to town, my hair is often frizzed out and must be put on top of my head. However Italian women’s hair flows freely and looks so nice no matter how much sweat is accumulating in the air.

The most obvious difference is weight. I am overweight by about 20 pounds on a good day. In Italy, I have always lost kilos (which is just one more reason to be here). I’m sure it has to do with pure, unprocessed food and a devotion to water. I can count on my fingers how many overweight Italians I’ve seen here. Is it their awareness of beauty or their simple lifestyle or both? Whatever it is, I wish we had more of it in the States.

My most native mistake is probably assuming all Italians are completely happy. My Italian friends assured me this was not so. Sure, Italians get depressed; of course, Italians have heartbreak and yes, Italians sometimes feel fat.

I think it’s easy to look at a culture from afar, from the outside, and assume it’s all better here where beauty is appreciated and worshiped. But once you look deeper you see behind the glamour, each is human to the core.