The Strange Tale of How I Ended Up in Italy

From bodega to konbini to local bar, how do I explain the strange tale of how I ended up in Italy? I ponder this in my local bar while I wait for my train.

Taken by me around Porta Saragozza

“You need a story, and then you go to graduate school,” is what I heard from a recent speaker. While I don’t necessarily have a stance on that opinion, that’s what happened to me. From studying abroad in Taiwan to four years in Japan, where do the dots connect to Italy? I don’t think I chose Italy, but rather Italy chose me.

We have to rewind the tape fourteen years back: the story begins at a Catholic high school in the Bronx. As a high school freshman, I entered my first foreign language class: Italian. I didn’t really think much about my choice of Italian, only that the alternative was Spanish. Although it was already 2010, I remember the Italian lira being crossed out in my textbook and replaced with euro. I have fond memories of my first Italian classes. I would watch Cinema Paradiso and Il Postino. Most vividly, I remember my teacher talking about the best Italian universities, specifically the University of Bologna (funny how I’m here years later).

But I hardly thought visiting Italy would be a dream realized. My school did have Europe trips, but it didn’t seem financially feasible for my family at the time. I wasn’t too crazy about grammar (still am not), and it didn’t seem applicable to my interests at the time (mainly East Asian studies and Art). I sort of forgot about Italian. If you had asked me six years ago about living in Europe, I probably would have scratched my head. At one point, I wanted to stay in Japan almost forever. The change came with grad school interests and a family trip to Italy.

Tying back to studies (the most important), navigating a Filipino identity abroad became a huge factor in why I wanted to study migration, labor, and transnational lives—specifically how these diasporic communities interact. The recurring narratives of migration and diaspora continued to be relevant to my daily life in Japan. As I befriended Filipinos abroad, we bonded over a shared culture, yet we clearly came from different backgrounds. I am “Americanized” and can barely speak Tagalog. My own family is spread across the globe: the US, Canada, the UK, and at some points, Hong Kong and Saudi Arabia. I wanted to continue to study the Filipino Diaspora. However, studying in the US is costly, and by my fourth year in Japan, I was ready to branch out to another continent: Europe.

Taken by me in Venice

Timing worked out well: my now brother-in-law organized a trip to Italy, coincidentally while I was applying to grad schools. Like many during the pandemic, for two years, I didn’t see the world or my family, and it was the best reunion. It’s hard not to fall in love with Italy at first sight. There was excitement in breathing a different kind of air, seeing all the places I had only seen in my textbooks years ago. Still, I was quite hesitant to choose Italy for grad school as it’s a country where its young people flee, although still holding its value for education.

Taken by me in Bologna

I was set on the Netherlands until a wild twist of fate: On my birthday, I received an interview invite for the program I’m in now. And weirdly that summer, everything worked out: I was able to schedule a visa appointment, get my documents in order, and once in Italy, secure housing on time.

Will I stay in Italy? Time will tell. Surely, it is a tremendous stepping stone to a greater future.