Perché Viterbo?!

Sappy Viterbo post Pt. II

Despite my travels north and south, there has been just one time, literally, where someone said Viterbo was nice. This was in Modena, where our waitress then proceeded to complain about Modena, making it seem like anywhere would be better. So not too convincing. (Side note, I enjoyed Modena!)

The universal reply when I tell people that I live in Viterbo is Perché Viterbo- why Viterbo?! People wrinkle their nose. They tell me how mean and closed-off people are there. “It’s so isolated,” they say.

In Amalfi, when I told this to a personable Nonno, who previously called me “a daughter of Italy” (the flattery) and told me I spoke Italian beautifully (the lies and flattery), he pursed his lips and shook his head, at a loss for words. An Italian man, at a loss for words, is like the Amalfi with no coast. He was so utterly upset at the mention of Viterbo - this teeny city near Rome!!

Above, me explaining how old Viterbo is to anyone who will listen!

I, too, have wrestled with Viterbo. It is isolated. Buses don’t run frequently and the train is long. It stops randomly on the tracks, it has BACKTRACKED, it is loud and never has air conditioning when you need it. In the winter in particular, Viterbo often felt like a windy, isolated ghost town.

But, it became my town. The cafes I frequent near work became some of my favorite spots, where I got to practice my Italian and read the newspaper. (I even wrote about my beloved barista for Italy Segreta). A different barista in town remembered I was American, and we had an enriching and difficult conversation about America’s war mentality. At another cafe (yes, I drink a lot of espresso), an older gentleman asked me if I was a poet since I was writing in a notebook. I told him, sort of, and my cafe break turned into a 30-minute, animated conversation. At the end, he went to his car to fetch me a pamphlet on an event he thought I would enjoy in his hometown. 

And the list goes on. I feel so much affection for this medieval city, which my advisor had to convince me is actually a city and not a village.

When I first moved here, I didn’t see how I could ever keep track of all of the streets and their right angles and cobblestones. But soon, I did. I no longer need a map, and I’ve walked nearly every alley. I take my favorite routes as I like, passing the zaffera pottery or the 3.00 euro porchetta sandwiches, the bustling piazzas or the gardens lit up at night. Walking past my favorite cats who always frequent the same corners looking for a scratch behind the ears. Getting to share this place with each visitor has only alerted me to its uniqueness in architecture and spirit, more and more. 

Months ago, when I felt a bit cosi-cosi (so-so) towards Viterbo, I ran across this quote. “One place understood helps us understand all places better,” wrote American author Eudora Welty. Even though I was feeling lukewarm towards my walled city, I knew that Viterbo has been the place that has changed every other for me.

I found community in all of these unexpected ways - the cafes, the international students group, a yarn class, karaoke (much to my dismay), even the trains, and a lot of time spent doing a lot of nothing. Sitting in piazzas. Bringing along books or sketchbooks. For better or for worse, Italians talk a lot and will tell you what they think. I ended up in the middle of conversations with people of all ages. Like the toddler in my building, Olivia, who always asks me where I am going or the older gentleman at the Kodak store who gives me camera advice. Or when I am standing next to people watching the sunset. Even all of the 12-year olds who asked me for cigarettes and lighters all year.

My Italian language skills and my confidence have been stretched and pulled in every direction and I owe so much of that to Viterbo. Once, I overheard a woman trying to find Piazza Plebiscito. I offered to direct her and her family and I ended up leading them to the piazza and showing her son my favorite gelato spot. They were from Florence, visiting for the weekend. When we parted, she told me, “You're so lucky to live here - but I bet you know that already.”

A Fulbright friend and I were reflecting on our time in Italy, dreading everyone asking about it once we got home. What do you say? How do you explain 9, transformative, difficult, amazing months? So much of the time, living in Italy is just life, in a different country. Work. Drama. Errands. And then dotted with these teeny moments of inexplicable joy and confusion and awe, all at once.

Living in Italy has been like navigating this entirely unique space. Even though I am Italian-American, I am not Italian here; I am always THE American. But at times I have these fleeting moments where I feel like I am seamlessly passing by, a small, small part of this thousand-year  history wrapped up in the medieval walls.

Some years ask questions and some give answers. I am partially avoiding making a decision on which one this has been, but more so, because it has been both. 

So many endless questions, like how to live with *wind disruptions* and why PosteItalie is basically Dante’s Inferno, and who to be and how to navigate this deep love towards Italy, a place I feel so at home in. I don’t want to leave just yet. 

Not to mention the questions from my research. I knew 9 months was short, but I feel like I am leaving with far more questions than answers.

But the answers! I feel so firm that somehow, I’ll be back. So firm in knowing the lifestyle I want to have. That the question-asking has yet to cease and that the answers will come flooding back as I readjust to life in the USA.

In so many ways, I am grateful I ended up in Viterbo, a small city near Rome that I (and everyone else) had never heard of.  

I have been in love with Italy my whole life. As I have written, my grandparents were from Naples, this gritty city that has a worldwide reputation. I studied Italian in college and applied for this grant, which I am still in awe that I managed to get. 

In the first month of my grant, I remember thinking maybe I wouldn’t make good friends, just friends to do things with. How wrong I was - I am dreading saying goodbye to my intelligent Fulbright ragazze, my lovely Viterbo crew (even though I don’t understand everything they say in rapid fire slang) and to my warm colleagues. And to this city. I can’t even talk about it!!

But no need to say goodbye yet! I’m in Italy for another month (!!!) with plenty of good things to come. We love delaying goodbyes !

I have more posts planned, so I hope you stay along for more detailed posts on Etna, Siracusa, the Amalfi Coast, PROCIDA!! (you’ll see why this needs to be in all caps soon), local Viterbo spots, trip tips and packing, Perugia, and more. As always, thanks for reading.

Ci vediamo!

Olivia