We’re past the halfway point. I’m at my official two-month anniversary of arriving on Italian soil. It’s harder to believe that in seven weeks, I’ll be back stateside again.

This significant moment has made me reflect on what impact this semester abroad will have on my life once I’m “back home.” I’ve learned so much about Italy, but the real question is: What have I learned about America?

I’ve learned that America is very young. Living in Rome, with its 2,754 years of history, has completely changed my perception of time. I used to think it was cool that I live in a 75-year-old house.

The Campanile, with its 100th birthday, seemed positively ancient. But here, every day I walk in the shadow of a basilica that was built in the early 300s. For my studio project, I touch and work with a wall that was started in A.D. 65.

In Rome, if something was built after 1700, it’s considered very modern.

I’ve learned that the United States is pretty conservative compared to other Western nations. That’s not bad, just an observation. This can be seen at any Roman newstand, where half of the posters and magazines you see have topless women on them — those are the popular publications, not the smutty ones.

This also can be seen in the statistics, such as a Gallup Poll cited in the book “One Nation Under God” (Kosmin and Lachman, 1993), where 58 percent of the American respondents said religion is very important, compared to only 36 percent for Italy and even less for the rest of western Europe.

I’m also reminded of America’s conservative nature by many of my Canadian friends here, who have told me that the “conversative” politicians in Canada could be considered slightly more liberal than our own Democratic party.

I’ve learned that America dominates the world militarily. I guess I always knew that from school and the news, but I never realized the extent or how it affects other countries. It’s eye-opening to see firsthand how despite our ideals of freedom, capitalism and humanitarism, our military prowess is what can often shape foreign impressions of our people the most.

Particularly noticable is the effect of the second World War. World War II was a chapter in history class for me.

Here it is readily apparent, as you still see buildings that were damaged from American bombing during the war, where photos hang at historic sites showing American troops marching by campaigns against Mussolini.

I’ve learned it’s a true blessing to live in a country with complete religious freedom. Granted, most of Europe has religious freedom today, but there’s still something different about being in a land that once had the religious beliefs of the people dictated by the will of the ruler.

Rome is a city of Christian martyrs, the place where Peter and Paul were killed, memories carried on in the hundreds of churches that shape the city today.

The church of San Stefano Rotunda has incredible paintings of early Christians suffering horrendous deaths in Rome. I can’t imagine what it would be like to risk death for simply saying, “I believe in Christ.”

I’ve learned that Ames, at least from the perspective of a typical minimal-money, minimal-time student, is the land of processed food.

As much as I respect and love Hy-Vee, it’s a whole new world when your diet is based on fresh fruit, fresh vegetables, fresh cheese and fresh bread you buy every day from a small street market.

I’ve learned that life in America is simply different than in other places. Last week, we travelled around northern Italy.

One stop was a small town called Urbino, Renaissance home of the painter Raphael and the architect Bramante. After dinner one night, four Canadian architecture friends and I went for gelato.

At a small yogurteria, one of the Canadians, Trish, pulled out her Italian dictionary and tried to figure out how to ask if they had real gelato, not just yogurt. Finally she managed to ask a question in very broken Italian.

The woman paused for a moment, and then perfectly fluently asked, “Do you speak English?”

It turned out that the woman, Dominique, was half-Israeli, half-French.

She had met an Italian, Mario, while traveling.

They came to Urbino to open the yogurteria. We ended up having a great conversation with Dominique. Somehow we got onto the topic of what she perceived as the differences between Americans and Canadians.

Dominique obviously wanted to say a lot, but she was reluctant because I was American. I told her I wanted to hear all the dirt, no apologies needed, but she still hesitated.

The most we were able to get out of her was that Americans were much louder than any other foreigners, and she believed the “quality of life” isn’t the same in America as it is in Canada and elsewhere.

I’m still not quite sure what exactly she meant by “quality of life,” but that has given me something to think about — especially while I’m chowing on corndogs and watching Pat Buchanan on TV next year.

Matt Ostanik is a senior in architecture from Washington, Ill.