RICO’s Q — The other day, I came across a post on social media listing countries with strong Italian roots, and like many others, I was caught off guard that Canada wasn’t on it.
Having grown up in Canada after my family moved to Toronto in 1964, I always thought Canada had the highest percentage of people with Italian heritage. So yeah, that omission surprised me.
I wasn’t shocked to see Australia on the list—I’d been there in 1996. Nor was I surprised by the US, where I lived briefly, or Costa Rica, which has been my home now for over twenty years.
Growing up Italian in Toronto felt like standing at the intersection of two lively cultures, each shaping your identity in ways loud and quiet. Toronto’s neighborhoods have long been home to Italians. My grandfather and his two sons arrived in 1955, settling in for good less than a decade later, bringing the whole family over.
But my grandfather never quite felt Canadian. Neither did his sons, now well into their eighties. My father lived for over 60 years in Canada and barely learned three words of English. Why bother? Italian culture thrived in places like Little Italy and Woodbridge, where the language hung in the air like a familiar tune, even if kids didn’t speak it fluently.
For Italian kids, Sunday lunches were more than just food. They were gatherings filled with stories, laughter, and the unmistakable aroma of garlic and fresh basil. These moments connected us to our roots, keeping traditions alive even as the city around us changed.
But being Italian in Toronto wasn’t just about family dinners or speaking a little Italian. It meant juggling two worlds. School halls echoed with accents from all over, and friends came from everywhere.
There was the push to fit in at school while holding onto family traditions at home. Sometimes it felt like you didn’t fully belong anywhere—too Italian for the locals, too foreign for the Italians back in Italy. That tug on identity can linger for years, pushing you to figure out what being Italian really means beyond the usual stereotypes.
Back in high school, it was like flipping a switch—turn off the Italian when you left home, become “mangia cake” for the day, then switch back to pasta and fagioli at dinner.
Many parents and grandparents came to Canada chasing opportunity, often starting with hard, long hours. Their sacrifices laid the groundwork for future generation—whether that means going to college, chasing creative careers, or starting businesses. Their lessons came wrapped in simple advice: respect your elders, work hard, and never forget where you come from.
Growing up Italian abroad
Living Italian outside Italy feels like straddling two worlds—both vibrant and messy, filled with love and confusion. It’s a mix of old traditions and new realities, creating a life that’s deeply personal and rich.
For many Italians abroad, food is the strongest link to home. Sunday pasta, the smell of garlic and basil, nonna’s homemade sauce—these aren’t just meals, they’re rituals. Even if the rest of the week is loaded with the local cuisine—burgers, sushi, curry—the Italian kitchen remains a sacred spot, a little slice of home wherever you are.
Language plays its own tricky role. Italians abroad carry a certain flair—stubbornness mixed with humor. Phrases like “Mamma mia!” pop up, and hands fly wildly when people talk, even if no one else gets it. That expressiveness becomes a badge of identity, a way to stay connected to something bigger. With over 250 hand gestures, Italians use their hands to say what words sometimes can’t.
Maybe that’s the charm of it. Growing up Italian abroad teaches you to be flexible and resilient. Your identity isn’t fixed; it’s a blend of old customs and new experiences. It’s about loving a culture half a world away while making a life where you are.
At the end of the day, being Italian abroad means carrying a piece of Italy in your heart, no matter where life takes you. It’s a story of family, food, language, and the messy, beautiful struggle of belonging.
Being Italian in Costa Rica
Being Italian in Costa Rica is a mix of Mediterranean passion and Central American pura vida, full of surprises and quiet challenges.
For Italians, food is more than fuel. Arriving in Costa Rica, the first thing you notice is the difference in food. Costa Rican dishes are simple, fresh, built on rice, beans, and tropical fruits. Italian food is about layers of flavor, fresh herbs, and olive oil. At first, this contrast can feel like a culture shock—missing a good espresso or a slice of authentic pizza hits hard. But over time, many Italians learn to appreciate Costa Rica’s own culinary treasures, like gallo pinto for breakfast or the variety of fresh seafood by the coast.
Some even start mixing the two—imagine pasta with a splash of Costa Rican citrus or a coffee break with a tropical twist.
For many Italian families who settled here, the journey began full of hope. They brought recipes, memories of cobblestone streets, and a fierce loyalty to family. Costa Rica, with its lush landscapes and warm people, became home. Holding on to Italian roots wasn’t just nostalgia—it was a way of seeing the world.
You’ll hear Italian phrases drop into everyday conversation or passionate debates about Juventus and AC Milan alongside cheers for the Costa Rican national team.
At school and on the streets, being Italian in Costa Rica can feel like walking a tightrope. Pride in heritage meets the desire to fit in locally. Kids grow up juggling two languages—Italian at home, Spanish everywhere else. They learn to switch effortlessly, blending the musical rhythm of Italian with the laid-back flow of Costa Rican Spanish.
This dual identity opens doors. It brings a wider perspective, curiosity, and a rich mix of culture. Italian lessons come with stories of Rome and Venice, while Costa Rican history paints rainforests and volcanoes. Together, they shape a worldview that’s rooted and broad.
Still, growing up Italian here isn’t without its struggles. Sometimes it feels like you belong to neither place fully. Traditions can feel heavy, expectations high, and the pull of local youth culture strong. But it’s in juggling these forces that a unique identity is born—one that’s tough, flexible, and deeply personal.
In the end, growing up Italian in Costa Rica is about blending. It’s savoring pasta while hearing waves crash nearby. Celebrating family traditions under a tropical sun. Carrying the best of two cultures inside and letting them shape who you are.
This fusion creates a life rich with flavor, warmth, and color—a life full of possibility, grounded in history. And maybe that’s the real beauty of growing up Italian in Costa Rica.a Rica.