I’m on holiday in Rome just after high school graduation. I join a tour organized by the youth hostel I’m staying at. After a long trek through the Eternal City, as we go back to the hostel, a boy not much older than me approaches our tour guide.
Boy: “Excuse me, but I want to know: are you Roman?”
Guide: “Well, not quite. I’m Sabinian, but I’ve lived in Rome for years.”
Boy: “Oh, I see. So, can you tell me where I can find the reservation?”
Guide: *Puzzled* “The reservation? What do you mean, exactly?”
Boy: “Y’know, the place where Romans live, and they all dress up in togas and have gladiatorial fights in. Those reservations.”
Guide: “I… I’m pretty sure there isn’t one.”
Boy: “So they demolished it when they banned traditional costumes last year? That’s s***ty as h***. At least they’ve been protesting about it pretty well.”
Guide: “Wait, what? What are you talking about? There’s a law against people dressing up as centurions, but…”
Boy: “But what? Aren’t you proud of your heritage?”
Guide: “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t work as a guide, but what does that have to do with anything?”
Boy: *Shaking his head* “Never mind, then.”
The guide shrugs and carries on as usual. When we all get back to the hotel, I approach the boy.
Me: “What were you trying to ask to [Guide]? I’m not sure I understood your train of thought.”
Boy: “I wanted to visit the Roman reservation, that’s all, but apparently Italians are too racist to treat the Romans any better.”
Me: “But Italians are descended from the Romans; how’s that even possible?”
Boy: “Explain yesterday’s protest, then.”
He then went on ranting about racism and cultural appropriation. I tried to look up the protest he was talking about, but, as it turned out, it was the 21st of April, which is Rome’s birthday, and has a parade of Roman-era reenactors going down the streets around the Colosseum. But I still don’t understand how he could even think Romans were still existing as a separate population!
