Street Walking

When I first arrived in Rome, crossing streets was quite the ordeal. I was certain that at some point a car would hit me; I just prayed that it would not be too bad. The streets are jam-packed with cars like an American city, the only difference is that in Rome there are no apparent rules for driving. This is especially true for the Vespas. As cars are stopped at a red light, the bikers shoot past them and lead the pack of automobiles. When the little walking man flashes green, it is your turn to walk on the crosswalk. At first, I would jump up out of fear everytime while crossing because a Vespa would speed up right where I was walking, always halting in the nick of time.

Initially, I would look at them in shock thinking that they were erratic drivers who despised pedestrians. Through their facial expressions, they would tell me that these roads are meant for driving. As the weeks have progressed, I have become accustomed to the daily chaos in the streets. Now when the motorcycles zip close to me, I am undaunted by them and barely even flinch. Instead of waiting for the green walk man at crosswalks, I have become like the Romans who just bolt out whenever they feel like crossing. Their motto: the cars will stop for us. It is liberating to not fear being hit, but it is also a little troublesome. With one false move, there is a decent chance that my confidence will fail me and it could end horribly. This proves that being confident is not always a good thing.