“Testa. Spalle. Ginocchi. Piedi,” the man said as he pointed to his head, shoulders, knees, and toes. We mimicked his actions, repeating each word out loud, and desperately tryed to memorize the Italian version of the popular U.S. children’s song.

Aly, Alyssa, and I were well into our second bottle of wine (the delicious vino rosso frizzante), and had already succeeded in making the most of our 24-hour visit to Venice. After arriving in the beautiful “City of Water,” we decided to treat ourselves to a nice, lazy dinner, choosing a small pizzeria across the street from our hostel on Lido Island. We enjoyed our bruschetta and individual-sized, margherita pizzas at a table out on the sidewalk, but an impromptu rainstorm prompted us to move inside for dessert, to a drier table in the upstairs dining room.

Although there were a few other diners in the cafe, the waiter made frequent stops at our table to chat and teach us crazy, American girls a bit of Italian. In return, we promised to help him improve his English, although he was already much more advanced in learning our language than we could hope to be in his.

We had spent a considerable amount of time in the classroom, learning the basics of Italian, but my time in this country was proving to be a very humbling experience. Although I can read, write, and speak my own language well, when it came to learning the language of this land, my understanding was reduced to that of a five-year-old.

Thus, here we were: three, well-educated women having a blast singing, “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.” Just one month ago, we were all complete strangers, but now we had become united in our roles as outsiders, and we were having the time of our lives.