I’m so done with conversations about pineapple on pizza!

The other day, I was at the coffee machines in Science Park, chatting with my classmates about our weekends, when our Greek classmate told us about his trip home for his sister’s wedding. He mentioned that since leaving Greece, he had begun to appreciate aspects of his culture that he had previously taken for granted. He said he felt attached to his cultural identity now more than ever. Like him, before living abroad, I had never given much thought to my cultural identity, but this quickly changed after arriving in the Netherlands. I realised that living abroad means constantly negotiating your cultural identity when interacting with new roommates, classmates and coworkers.

Since I moved to Utrecht, when I present myself as Chiara, 99 percent of my conversations follow with either a sarcastic question or an exclamation: “Oh, are you Italian?”. This happens not only because Chiara is the third most popular female name in my year of birth (fact checked), but Chiaras are also uniquely predisposed to feel an attraction toward the Netherlands (written in the stars). Since it is apparently impossible to separate the idea of Italy and the idea of food, 100 percebt of my conversations proceed with a comment about food. 

One time, a girl jokingly asked me about pineapple on pizza, because “Italians always get so mad about it”. At that point, I realised that I not only had to negotiate my identity in the face of cliché stereotypes, but also in relation to how other Italians behave abroad. In my view, it is not really about pineapple on pizza, but rather an identity negotiation strategy: embracing stereotypes creates a sense of belonging. 

Personally, I feel uncomfortable fitting in with the “pizza, pasta, mafia” stereotype (a big thanks to the American film directors who ruined my opportunities to be taken seriously in conversations). Negotiating a cultural identity abroad in a place full of “Chiaras” is not easy, because if you disown the stereotype, you also have to deal with the backlash from the people who embrace it. When you express indifference toward pineapple on pizza, you must be prepared for the Italian guy across the room, beer in hand, to materialise in the conversation and start interrogating you.

Being an international student means being too Italian for Dutch people, but also too international for Italians. It means weighing every word you say because you worry that people around you will misunderstand it. It means giving up on sarcasm and idioms. It means feeling like everyone can understand you, but no one really does. It means calling your family back home and not being able to fully explain your thesis topic because that is part of your “English vocabulary”, while being unable to fully express your emotions with new friends because that is part of your “Italian vocabulary”. Above all, it means negotiating your cultural identity and challenging how you see yourself vis-à-vis how others see you. 

On Students' Viewpoint, UU students share their views with the rest of the university community. Chiara, a Master's student in Migration, Ethnic Relations & Multiculturalism, is one of the columnists invited for this space. You can also read the perspectives of staff members on Staff's Viewpoint and click here to check out the columns by students and staff in Dutch.