A Second Chance
Rome and I are on an enemies to lovers arc. After one jam-packed stay last November and another jam-packed stay this September - on both occasions prioritizing an anti-tourist approach and trying my best to pierce the veil of Dolce Vita marketing - I can confidently declare that Rome is like New York City in that both places show their ass crack first before turning around and then growing on you.
I returned to Rome this September because I wanted to once again experience Italy’s capital through writer/photographer Saghar Sarteh’s eyes. My private tour with her last November was the one and only highlight of an otherwise unimpressive week in the storied city of Romulus, Remus, and Lizzie McGuire. Time spent with Saghar was more engaging than my 6am visit to the Vatican where I followed the key-master around. She outdid the Vatican! That first tour, she talked me through the rione of Testaccio the way an experienced artist talks about her longtime muse. It was a food tour that unfolded like a love letter to Testaccio, with threads of social anthropology, cultural anthropology, national history, and personal history woven in. I flew out of Rome last year feeling generally ambivalent about the city overall, while simultaneously wanting to catch more glimpses of the city that had Saghar’s heart, wondering if maybe I could have a second chance at love with the city too.
I also wanted to throw myself back out into the wild to test my Italian language skills solo after a second delightful homestay in Sarzana with Sira Gheller. Just like last November, when I arrived to the sunlit Ligurian town of Sarzana this September I fell in love on sight (all over again) as I thought to myself “At last! I’ve missed you!” Conversely, the following week back in Rome, I arrived just before nightfall, feeling prickly and thinking “Not sure it’ll work out but at least I’m here right?”
How to Live a Monday
September 8, 2025
My first Monday back in Rome marked the start of my second week in-country. I had arrived the day before from Sarzana and was still exhausted from three train transfers and a car-ride (small town to big city things!) but was ready to kick off the day with a new tattoo.
This tattoo’s genesis begins in the Caribbean. While in Puerto Rico this past August, I was vibing at a natural wine bar that I had marked down as a spot to visit per Alicia Kennedy’s Newsletter. Kiki-ing with one of my sisters over a bottle of La Morella, I saw the cutest drawing of a silly crab having a ball atop a glass of wine. I stared at the drawing and thought to myself, “That’s me! This is the next tattoo of what I want to embody (among many other energies of course, because range) a la-dee-da cancerian-sun-gworl with her glass of wine and an open heart.” As I already had one tattoo done in Italy while in Bologna three years prior, I decided with another trip around the corner, a tattoo session would be the perfect addition to my September in Italy itinerary. After researching studios that were Queer-owned and safe for Black women in Rome, I reached out to Federica Mercurio Prado to book an appointment with her and started collaborating on a design inspired by the drawing but rooted in her distinct fine-line aesthetic.
Just a casual way to start a Monday in Rome: get lost on the way to breakfast, get lost on the way to the bus, notify the tattoo artist that I am lost but on the way, give-up on the bus and take a taxi, watch the driver reroute three times because traffic is not moving, reach out to the artist again and die on the inside from the embarrassment, arrive an hour late to the appointment. Thankfully, Federica welcomed me with open arms and my first warm hug back in Rome! Getting a piece of art by Federica was unlike any other tattoo experience I’ve had, and save for one of my now ten tattoos, all my experiences have been positive. Notably, the session with Federica was exceptionally memorable for how peaceful it was. She is co-owner of the studio Mercuriocromo Tattoo, a well lit and charmingly decorated haven in the Monte Sacro quartieri which lies outside of the city center’s rioni.
The week before my appointment, while thriving in my Sarzana homestay, I had gotten my hands on a tiny tube of Emla anesthetic cream. It is typically only available by prescription in European pharmacies. Fortunately, I had adequately rehearsed my Italian language script so that I successfully presented as a local gal just long enough to get into the good graces of the pharmacist who kindly sold me the cream after I stood at the counter and mentioned my forthcoming piccolino tatuaggio.
*NOTE: No one in Italy recommended this anesthetic cream to me. Months prior I had learned about it from a dermatologist who was casually naming off-label uses for Emla cream and I took notes for the next time I found myself in Europe.*
Fast-forward from Sarzana to Rome where I had dutifully applied the cream ninety minutes before my scheduled appointment time only to arrive at 12:30pm instead of at 11:30am. Finally inside the studio, sweating from the day’s humidity plus the anxiety of getting lost multiple times then stuck in traffic, the cream’s total numbing effect was well on its way to wearing off. And yet, my session was - as previously written - peaceful. Federica welcomed me in with literal open arms, she offered me water, and then un caffè, we chatted for a bit and she patiently spoke with me in a mix of Italian and English after I mentioned that I was in Italy for immersion and wanted to practice. We switched exclusively to English while she dutifully explained all the details of the health waiver and this was special because she took the time to go page by page with me instead of handing it over and walking away. We then spoke in depth about my desired placement, ink options, and being mindful of the considerations necessary when tattooing eczema-prone and richly melanated skin.
Afterwards, while she set-up her station, she showed me the ink that would be used, informed me about its ingredients and why it was designated as hypoallergenic. She then showed me her tattoo kit and the unopened needle before opening it in-front of me and attaching it. Never before had I met a tattoo artist so intentional with walking me through the process. I didn’t ask for this level of attention, it was simply her method of operation. Beautiful.
Federica is a behavioral psychologist turned tattoo-artist with a potent life story. While working, she creates with a light but assured hand and a gentle spirit. In my earlier research before reaching out from Puerto Rico, I learned that she and her business partner operate with an ethos informed by intersectional trans-inclusive feminism. I wondered what such an ethos would feel like in practice and from all the details I have written so far, it is no surprise that the studio’s approach resulted in what was my favorite tattoo session thus far.
Just as we were wrapping up, a mother daughter duo arrived and settled into the lobby with the energy people bring to a gathering of old friends in someone’s home. My heart was warmed watching her interact with these clients. Before heading out, I used the bathroom which was pristine and fully stocked with menstrual products!
May Federica’s books be full forever and ever AMEN.
I took the bus back to the city center and I relished every second of being a fly on the wall of commuter culture in Rome. It was exhilarating getting to people-watch and eavesdrop. What a thrill it was to observe and assess how Romans move through their distinct social productions of space! Naturally, I got lost twice trying to find my bus-stop but this time around I accepted the occurrence as a natural feature of being me and rolled with it. This acceptance meant that I was able to enjoy the details of local street art in Monte Sacro that I wouldn’t have noticed if I was stuck in a cycle of being an anxious and lost traveler. Flowing as a lost yet relaxed traveler also meant that when I was approached for directions (nope I was not pick-potted!) in the moment I was able to laugh along with a stranger in Italian and say “anche io sto persa.”
Eventually I hoisted myself into the right bus. While on my way I made sure to pay attention to all the stops and all the faces. So many distinct faces! Rome is a deeply multi-cultural city which is not something communicated in its marketing. Seeing so many unique features shaped by centuries of all roads leading to Rome made the almost hour long bus ride into the city center a delight for my eyes. Plus, all the variety of visages helped to distract me from the onslaught on my nose of body odor wafting through.
Stepping off at my destination, I decided to wander since I had some time before my scheduled visit to the LabSolue Perfume Laboratory. While wandering, relaxed, and ok with getting lost, I turned down Via de Cappellari and happened upon two pieces of street art side-by-side that threw me into a fit of giggles. A Nonna making her point and a Barbie winking at me. I kept walking, and walked by groups of people speaking several languages intermixed with bits of Italian here and there, I loved how it all sounded. I kept walking, and walked by open ateliers and a cool motorcycle garage-shop. I kept walking, passing serpentine alleyways and arches that cast unique shadows. I kept walking, winding this way and that, spiraling with the city and deeper into its secrets until I somehow ended up at my appointment an hour early!
In the evening after smelling my way through a whole new world of scents earlier on the bus and later at LabSolue, after enjoying a sumptuous glass of Montepulciano d’abruzzo paired with a solid gluten-free pizza capricciosa at Voglia di Pizza, after basking in the details of my tattoo session with Federica, after all of that I sat on a bench within a green space near Via Arenula where I voice messaged two friends to say that “Rome is ugly.”
The pang of the lie would reverberate throughout my body for the rest of the week. I had arrived believing this to be true based on my gloomy experience of the city last November. When welcomed by a new side of the city, I leaned into my biases instead of embracing the nuances of the place. Classic human behavior. Little did I know that a major course correction was on its way to me…
Guideposts, Glimmers, and a Whisper from Within
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