Being a young Ukrainian woman in Italy is a particular topic. Why? Well…I think you know the answer for this question even better than me. But let me tell you about my experience from my own Ukrainian lips.

I’m not going to talk about vodka and all that stuff. I guess that will be nothing new for you to hear about. I would like to tell about the way women of my nationality in Italy are treated by the opposite sex.

I’m a person who likes to…let’s say socialize. I socialize with a pretty considerable amount of people and all of them without any exception had a very interesting reaction after I told them where I came from. For some reason Italian people usually see me as an American or a citizen of some European country, but when they suddenly find out that I’m Ukrainian they (in this case I mean MEN) start looking at me like I’m a lottery jackpot that they got lucky to win, even though nothing has changed. I’m still the person that I was five minutes ago.

There is a particular situation that happened to me recently. I was sitting on the stairs of the fountain in Piazza Di Santa Maria in Trastevere and smoking. Then one guy came to me and asked for a light. He was a typical Italian and he seemed a little bit…lost. I gave him a cigarette, he thanked me. He was not that enthusiastic in starting a conversation, but because of some kind of politeness he asked me usual questions like ‘what I do here in Rome, what I study, what is my job and…where I am from. And when he heard the answer ‘I’m from Ukraine’ suddenly his pupils became so wide and it was literally written there “Ding! Ding! Ding! Congratulations! YOU WON A JACKPOT!!!”

All of a sudden he stopped acting lost and became so interested, though nothing, absolutely nothing had changed about me. He sat near me, turned his “Italian button on” and said a cliche phrase that I’ve heard many, many times: “Oh, I heard that the most beautiful girls are from Ukraine.”

“C’mon, man, you’re damn Italian! Can’t you invent something more original?!” I was thinking during this moment.

After that he started telling me about his occupation, about brothers and sisters he had and etc. And sometimes he was telling me so many details about his life that it made me feel a little bit uncomfortable. Like “I wash my hair 3 times a week only with this kind of shampoo, I like only Armani perfume, I have a Philips shaver, I wear Gucci shirts…”

What the hell he was trying to show? His status? Ok…The behavior of this exhibit was interesting for me because I wanted to understand the point of telling me so many details. And yes, he was pretty handsome. So he invited me for some dinner and drink to the bar nearby. Alright, I accepted. We were sitting outside. It was evening and I had a very light jacket on. I felt a little bit cold. So I decided to make a typical “gentleman test.” The guy was dressed in a warm sweater and a tight jacket.

“Ahh…it’s cold” I said crossing my hands on my chest, showing with all my might that I would like to have something more on.

“Ah, come on, you’re from Ukraine. It should be just perfect temperature for you.” And…that’s all.

He didn’t get the hint or offer me his jacket. Ok, test is not passed. Let’s go further. He ordered many kinds of different food, showing off his generosity. He was saying “it’s nothing, it’s on me.” It was too much. But the most interesting thing happened was when he was ordering a wine. First he asked me if I wanted a bottle of eight-year- or six-year-old wine. Well…honestly I didn’t care! We were sitting in a simple damn tourist bar, not in a posh French restaurant in the center of Paris!

Did he really think it was going to work? And again “I have a big Land Cruiser for weekends and…also I have a motorbike. I have this and that and that…” Ahh…it became boring. Finally we finished our dinner. And I was going to go home. And at this moment the most interesting thing happened. When I refused his offer “to watch landscapes of night Rome” and told him that I wanted to go home, he looked at me like I have just cracked his bank account and said “Home? But…why? Why home?” I heard such a strong reproach in his question.

“Well because I have to wake up early tomorrow,” I answered as an excuse.

“But how come? I offered you such a good dinner, we were drinking the best wine. Why don’t you want to go with me?”

Eee…what??? “Well, I was not asking you for this dinner, you invited me and I accepted. Do you really think that all this stuff can guarantee you that a girl will be so stunned that she will not resist to spend a night with you?”

He did not expect such a direct question and at first he seemed bewildered but after a few seconds he gave me an answer that still makes me shocked:
“Well of course not all the time, but in your case…”

“What do you mean in my case? Is it written on my forehead that I go to bed with everyone who offers me dinner and wears Gucci?!”

“No, but you are…Ukrainian.”

“So what?!” My indignation knew no bounds at that moment.

“Well I know that Ukrainian women like rich and generous men. And if a man shows his generosity these women show their gratefulness in a special way. And each time I have met a Ukrainian girl it has always worked.”

Damn! I was totally numb after this answer. And the most hilarious thing was that this guy was right! Unfortunately, in most cases, it goes directly like this. At first, I just wanted to say: “Fuck you!” Who the hell does he thinks he is! But after a while I realized that it would be too primitive from my side. So I smiled at him, came very close to him making him think that I suddenly changed my mind and wanted to spend a night with him and whispered just right into his ear: “Every rule has its exception.”

I went away at once leaving him alone in the middle of Piazza Di Santa Maria.

So in conclusion I can say that yes, Ukrainian women are beautiful, I admit. But I still don’t know whether it’s a flaw or an advantage of my nationality.

Alina Likholat, formerly of Kyiv, is living in Rome.