Did you know you can miss a place as much as you miss a person? Occasionally, on a quiet day in Ithaca or New Jersey, my heart is overcome with nostalgia for Turin, Italy.
My first experiences with Turin were through the perspective of a summertime visitor. I would follow my mom around the city as we visited her friends and family. I had no responsibilities but to eat focaccia and hobble through conversations with my broken Italian. Turin was a beautiful playground to me, the same way many people view Italy overall.
When I moved with my family to Turin in 2019, the city solidified into something more real. In some ways, Turin’s magic wore off with daily life. Walking through the city, admiration for the beautiful Baroque architecture around me was pushed aside by the mundane worries about school and work. Yet it was also so exciting to form a relationship with the city separate from my family. I learned how to navigate the city (a gridiron scattered with squares and palaces) and found which places brought me comfort or joy.
I yearned to belong to Turin, to take on the perspectives of those who called it home. While obstacles like language barrier, national context, and eventually a pandemic never allowed this to be fully possible, there were moments where I felt like a real Torinese. I remember one night, hanging out with my friends in Piazza Vittorio, a large square where a lot of young people get together, and feeling right where I was supposed to be.
Turin showed me that life can be so much more than it is in suburban NJ. Life should be filled with beauty, culture, great food, and unplanned social interaction that lasts for hours. Cities can make that life a reality.
I recognize that I still view Turin as somewhat of a paradise. I can’t shake my visitor’s perspective despite my knowledge of the issues that Turin faces. Many of my mom’s highly educated friends are paid ridiculously low salaries. In the winter, smog smothers the city. The economic segregation is so evident that the wealthy live above everyone else in the hills. Yet, when I am walking along the river Po as the sun sets, I cannot help but fall in love with this city all over again.
Note: All photos have been stolen from my dad's instagram.
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