The Silent City

Like most young people do, when given the chance to roam the streets of a foreign city, I set out to discover how it was young adults chose to spend their time once the sun went down. Initially, I found what was to be expected; hoards of youths making their way from bar to bar, chatting on street corners, and eating in restaurants. As ordinary as the scene may have appeared, it didn't take long for me to realize that there was something quite alien about what was happening.

Once my senses had successfully acclimated to the strange and wonderful overflow of external stimuli that permeated the old city of nighttime Prato, the oddities began to appear. I first realized, whilst sitting in the outdoor plaza, that, considering the sheer volume of people that were out and about, the city center was entirely too quiet. Sure, the music emanating from the various venues - which really wasn't all that loud to begin with - probably drowned out some of the chatter, but it certainly wasn't enough to lessen what should have been an ocean of fairly audible conversations (inability to understand Italian aside.) The shouts, screams, and obnoxious laughter that usually accompanies a boys/girls-night-out, when coupled with alcohol (of which there was plenty) was nowhere to be heard. I mean, we're talking about 100+ university students (I assume) within a half a mile square radius, making about as much noise as you would expect to find in a nice restaurant. It was, in fact, hard to tell if anyone had been drinking at all. In any case, I had decided to pass it off as a sign that the youthful inhabitants of Prato resigned themselves to getting drunk very quietly - whatever their reasons.  

Eventually, the group I was with decided it was time to change bars. As everyone stood up to leave, I raised concern over the bottles that were still in our hands. The response, to what I though was a fairly reasonable comment, was a couple of scoffs and a "Dude, look around." They were right; A good number of the people that made their way through the streets shamelessly held their bottles in their hands. This, for me, was a strange sight, if for no other reason than the fact that there were no bottles to be found on the ground anywhere - but, like the rest of my group, I wanted to leave (without having to down my drink) so I didn't push the matter any farther.

As we made our way to our next destination, a conversation was stuck with a couple of English-speaking locals when someone in our group had asked for directions to the nearest ATM. To our surprise (and delight) the conversation ended up lasting a couple of hours. Our new friends were amazingly receptive to all of our questions about the Italian way of life, and equally curious about what America was like.The conversation had inevitably shed light on many of the strange things I had observed during my night out. As it happens, Italians are very confused about the American propensity for binge-drinking - which, personally, I found surprising since, in my mind, the European lifestyle had always gone hand in hand with a... "liberal" approach to alcohol consumption (a gross generalization, I know), and while this might be true to some extent depending on where in Europe you are, I am ashamed to admit that I had never considered the possibility that, in some European cultures, drinking did not mean getting drunk - for us youths who like to have a good time every now and then. 

"How can Americans binge-drink the way they do? and so often!" Our new Italian friend had asked, wide-eyed with both hands shaking wildly at his sides - as per the Italian way - to accentuate the depth of his confusion. He explained to us how, for Italians, drinking is a social event and nothing more. They prefer to sip slowly while riding a "steady buzz," and have little patience for loud drunken bigotry and self-desecration. We were reminded that while things might be a bit different when partying in  Florence, that is only because Florence has become a much more "international" city but that, for the most part, the rest of Italy prefers a more "chilled out" affair - as do the women, when it comes to interacting with men, a point he dutifully expressed, in case any of us were willing try our luck with some of the local women. It wasn't that Italians felt them selves above getting drunk from time to time, but that even when they did, they ensured it didn't become a problem for others - which is something we Americans have a hard time putting in practice. Because of the casual nature of Pratos night life, we were told, the police had much better things to do than harassing people for walking through the streets with bottles (which seemed to always find themselves in the trashcan anyway.) 

At the end of the night, I decided that the adjustment to this foreign drinking/social culture would be of little inconvenience to me. I've never been much of a drinker, and have always preferred more laid-back settings. However, I have certainly not always been this way, so I think it says much of the maturity of the general youth for them to prefer  this setting over the loud, anxious, bustling mess many of us have grown accustom to, elsewhere. Saluti, Prato.