Bologna by Bre

After deciding to study abroad in Italy, I was secretly hoping to see a few of the stereotypes prominently featured in the media.

Northern Italians, however, are drastically different from their more colorful countrymen to the South, and I’ve spent the past three months searching for the false Italian picture painted by the writers of “The Sopranos.”

With holiday season officially here and a growing case of homesickness plaguing my program, it was the perfect time to escape the confines of Bologna and see what my friend’s Sicilian family was all about.

The largest island in the Mediterranean Sea, Sicily is known for its high agricultural production.

The island has brightly colored buildings, French styled iron wrought balconies and palm trees littering its streets.

But beyond the physical beauty, the distinctly Sicilian tone gave me my overdue fill of Italian stereotypes.

A park was filled with sounds of two old men fighting about a game of checkers right before they took a mid-morning break to throw back some beers and watch the waves roll into shore.

The best pizza of my life was prepared for me by a child no older than 10. At his age, I was still mastering the art of telling time on an analog clock, and even now I occasionally slip up.

I drank beer with an 8-year-old and got hit on by a 40-year-old.

A local bar greeted me with a plate of Arancini, a rice croquette filled with cheese and various types of meat.

I sat two tables down from a group of local university students with hair so perfectly gelled I had to stop myself from asking to touch it.

The warm weather allowed me to stuff my cardigan into my backpack, proudly rock my sunglasses and throw all cares of calorie consumption into the ocean.

If you really want to experience Italy, forget Rick Steves’s book (as it sadly skips over the country’s biggest island), Find yourself a Sicilian friend and hope they invite you home with them for a weekend.