Heat.

It’s happened. The heat has got the best of me. Stepping outside is an event. I am trying to be positive but I am really struggling.

I go to school at the University of Arizona and am used to the heat. This heat is different. It reminds me of if you leave the hot water on in the bathroom and you can’t see anything in the mirror. Humid. Dry heat is one thing.Humidity is a whole different ball game.

I knew what I was getting into though. When I visited Italy in the summer of 2006, locals alike had told my family it had not been that hot in a very long time. I even remember hearing the words “heat wave” from many people in Italy.

In our food and wine course, we have visited two markets in Florence. Both have outside marketplaces that sell leather, sunglasses, fresh fruit, vegetables, etc. Inside there are meats, fish, breads, and other items. The walk over while trying to find shade is serious street manipulation. With zipping vespas, tourists, and merciless Italian drivers, it is an experience in itself.

At the market, I asked our food and wine teacher, why, and how Italians do not sweat. Is there some genetic that I need to possess for me not to perspire as soon as I walk out the sliding doors of CEA?

“We do not get used to it. We suffer in it also.” Yet Italians seem to walk the streets with grace and the look of 70 degrees and windy. They do not resemble me, and my already broken fan, trudging the streets in desperate search of shade and cold water.

No, instead they embrace the heat. “When I get home, I normally have 3 or 4 glasses of hot tea,” said Patrizia, my food and wine teacher. She claims it is to adjust the body temperature. I will tell you now that I am sitting in my apartment not drinking tea but a cool beverage that has sat in the freezer for 3 hours.