My Summer as an Italian Au Pair

1. From The Beginning

Global Work and Travel

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when, in November 2023, I signed up to be an au pair in Italy through the Global Work and Travel (GWAT) agency for Summer 2024.

For many years, I heard tales of girls my age traveling across the world for cheap to nanny kids and see Europe, Australia, Asia; you name it. I even interviewed one for a three-episode podcast I created and hosted last year titled 'Transformative Travel'. Mattison Payne instilled in me much motivation and dreams of embarking on a similar journey:

With my last year of graduate school coming up the next term and having hardly traveled in my 22 – almost 23 – years of life, I knew it was then or never. So, I did it.

I had the introductory call with an Australian GWAT representative, and she told me that time was running out and there may be no spots left if I didn’t secure mine right away. I made the down payment of $300 for a summer in Italy, and I planned out bi-monthly payments of $160 so I could realistically pay for what was initially a $1,200 trip.

"We will organize your trip, help you acquire your documents, and find a host family for you; this is what the $1,200 covers." Well, it didn’t quite pan out this way. You see, there were many things I didn't know about GWAT, and many tasks and costs I had to complete and pay to be an au pair abroad:

Task	Price
CPR certification	$30
Submit license and photos of my childcare history	NA
Comprehensive health exam/visit	$110
Stamped fingerprints by a state agent for background check	$30
Statement of purpose to potential host families	NA
Two letters of recommendation	NA
New birth certificate	$20
New Passport	$170
Match with host family	NA
Travel insurance	$350
Round-trip flights (first time)	$1,800

May I mention that I barely received any help from GWAT – unless you consider receiving PDFs by email listing what I need to do to acquire each document as help. So, while I did save up and pay for the $1,200 agency fee, as well as the cost of documents, my parents had to help me pay for the insurance and flights. After everything was said and done, the cost amounted to around $3,730.

On the other hand, I saved up $3,500 in seven months to have for spending money while there - all of which I spent - making the total cost $7,230. For living in Italy for two months, this doesn’t seem too steep. Yet, things got worse, and the price got steeper.

Amidst au pairing, my plans changed, and I had to move my flight up by two weeks. Normally, if you have enough advanced notice, changing flights comes at little cost, if any. This is when GWAT struck again - and hard. After much arguing and researching about their partnership and terms with Delta Airlines, my parents and I were forced to pay them an additional $740 to change my flight home. If only we had known that, only a few days later, plans would change again, and I would have to pay another $350 to move my flight up by only one day.

New expense level: $8,320. **Cash register chimes constantly ringing.

Needless to say, GWAT scammed me, coerced me into making a downpayment before doing any research on the company, withheld information and realistic prices, and then rarely checked in on me while I was in Italy.

And I’m not the only one. Hundreds upon hundreds of Reddit comments, reviews, and even YouTube videos taught me what I wish I had known from the beginning: do not trust this agency, they will take all your money and not feel a shred of guilt about it.

“They’re a huge waste of money. They charge you an obscene amount for doing things that you can easily do yourself for free. I got a call from them when I was looking into a [way] to oz and they were super, super pushy, and when I told them I’d think about it, they wouldn’t stop calling me back so I had to block their number.”
- Reddit user

“Terrible company, I would never recommend them as they provide a service that can easily be sorted out without them, and they charge a massive price that they avoid properly disclosing before you’ve paid the deposit. Hidden cancellation fees on flights and insurance even though they haven’t paid for your products yet. I was unable to go on my trip due to covid and they never booked my flight for me but wouldn’t give me the full refund for the cost of ticket as it is their policy to take a fee. Joke of a company, massively high-pressure sales tactics, and minimal help on actually organizing a work and travel trip. Anyone thinking about using them should seriously reconsider and you will find a much better and cheaper option.”
- Reddit user

While I know this is all behind me and I can’t change what happened, it took a massive toll on my experience, which should’ve been life-changing, carefree, and everything I paid for it to be with my hard-earned money.

Mementos

Flight ticket from Amsterdam to Catania

Card from a gourmet panini shop in Florence

Entry ticket to Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli

Card from Trattoria/Braceria dei Tre Amici

Alibus ticket for four euros

Map that my host mother drew me to get to the airport

Train ticket from Roma Termini to Fiumicino Airport

Ticket to an archeological museum in Palermo

Another map my host mom drew me to get around Catania

Card for Hostel Mancini, where I stayed in Naples

2. A Morning in Catania

A poem of sorts

Got scared trying to find the tabaccherie, where metro tickets are sold.

Asked a woman for directions.

It was 100 feet in front of me.

Got scared waiting in line: I didn’t know if it was a line.

Asked a man around my age.

He told me to go inside.

I went inside and bought the tickets; €4,50.

Went back outside to ask where metro is.

Man said he’s waiting on the match.

Got scared because I didn’t know what that meant.

Laughed, said "Grazie," and walked away.

Found the metro; was scared.

Got on the metro.

Asked two old men which stop to get off at for Via Etnea.

They told me the first stop.

(Later found out there was a closer stop that cuts 25 minutes off my walk.)

Older lady obviously knew I was American and scared out of my wits.

She directed me further after getting off at the first stop.

Have been prancing around the city historical center since, trying not to look or act too American lol.

Now drinking an Aperol Spritz and eating pistachio, cheese and bacon penne pasta underneath an awning, watching humans of every age, race, and ethnicity walk by.

Just got asked if I was okay because I didn’t finish my pasta.

Probably not a good thing.

3. Please Don't Touch Me

The first thing I noticed about my host father was his boyish grin that spread from ear to ear, puffing up his tanned cheeks and bringing a bright light to his aging eyes; crow’s feet underway and the beginning stages of drooping eyelids. He can’t be beyond 45 years, but the signs are there.

While this all sounds like a positive reflection of the man who was hosting me and paying me 100 euros a week to watch his Italian kids, the first feelings I had in relation to this set of mannerisms was unease – the kind that only a woman knows when face-to-face with a man whose eyes give of a sense (or energy, maybe) that his thoughts are less than pure, safe.

It’s like, instead of smiling and laughing at the obvious, current situation taking place, he is smiling and laughing at some dirty plotline he’s concocting in his head, and I’m the guest star of the story. And it might be the language barrier between us, but my experience thus far with Mr. Schiliró begs the contrary.

Two and a half weeks into my stay and I couldn’t stand the way his eyes roved over my body; got prickles all over my skin when his hands inappropriately found reasons to make contact with my now-tense body; started ignoring when he called, for the kissy-face emoji’s he texted me left a permanent vomit-like taste in my mouth at the thought of him.

Two and a half weeks into my stay and my mind began spinning from my contemplation of which way was the best option to remove myself from the situation – to get myself out from under this man’s roof with the least amount of awkwardness and drama; the least amount of interaction with a person who I could no longer bare to even be within the same vicinity of.

It’s funny how some men can do that to some women: take an experience that I’ve wanted for years and that I’ve planned and looked forward to for months, and turn it into a lump in my throat, a pit in my stomach, an unrelenting desire in my chest to scurry back home to my loved ones and comfort zone.

And just when I was beginning to settle in, too. I think it’s safe to say that most of the Italian charm wore off at this point.

Here’s what happened…

The first time he ever made me feel uncomfortable was the night I went into the city with him to get dinner and drinks with two coupled-up friends of his and Claudia’s. She didn’t want to go, staying home due to her unending need and desire to stay thin by eating like a vegetarian bird Monday through Friday! Italian women and their obsession with their weight is relentless.

We arrived at the aperitivo-style restaurant first. He ordered chips and champagne for the table, and we sat awkwardly across from each other, braving some chit chat that was ultimately pointless by his sparse English vocabulary. Only a week - if even that - into my stay in Catania, Sicily, there was no alternative evening that would not start out excruciatingly awkward.

In fact, I had only agreed to join him on the outing because I was having a difficult day; missing home and my friends and my boyfriend. I thought a change of scenery and pace would help push down my growing urge to book it back to the States.

Finally, the two couples arrived, and I was finally able to relax into my seat and younger-than-the-rest presence with relief. The dinner flew by in buzzes and wine-induced swirls; laughing in bubbly delights as dish after dish was ordered, served, and devoured; the 40-something-year-old women taking me under their wings as an offer of comfort and intrigue. I felt overwhelmingly IN Italy for the very first time. You just had to be there.

Standing around afterward – bellies full and heads swimming – and fixing to head out of the courtyard that the restaurant was perched within, I spied a black cat slinking around by the dumpsters. Now, this was the third or fourth black cat of the afternoon that I had pointed out to Francesco, so I laughed as I directed his attention. His grin spread across his wrinkled face, and he chuckled as his right arm snaked slimily around my waist and his fingers quickly, grossly pinched into the softness of where my waist dips into my hips. My insides suddenly turned frozen, shocked.

As a woman, I know immediately when a specific person shouldn’t be touching me – even if I didn’t know it seconds before – and that them doing so is incredibly inappropriate. I got this feeling in this moment, and then with the second and third times that his mouth - turning more disgusting by the minute - spouted more unfunny jokes and his manipulative paws found my torso unaware.

I also remember him blatantly leaning in too close to look over my shoulder and at my phone as I texted my boyfriend. He found it hilarious when I flinched away from his body heat that was making the wine in my stomach bubble up nauseously. Every time he pinched or poked my side I grimaced and moved away, and every time no one said anything or reacted in any way. Like it was completely normal; like I don’t take care of his kids and live under his roof; like I’m not living in a foreign country for the first time, and I’m already extremely uncomfortable and over-aware of my surroundings.

I found myself submerged in the mindset of, “No one found it weird, so I’m probably reading too much into it. It was harmless.” Let me just say, I hate that mindset, that intrusive thought; allowing others’ reactions to alter my feelings about what transpired, biting my tongue for the sake of not wanting to embarrass a man or “get it wrong” in calling him out, telling him to stop! Basta!

If it makes you uncomfortable, it is not okay, and it is not harmless – not to you.

Not long later, mercilessly on the way home, it was his words this time that halted my breath and the flow of my blood for the umpteenth time this evening. With my nose in my phone and my body turned away from him, because of just how uncomfortable I felt, he said in broken English, “Is your boyfriend jealous?” My shock didn’t stop me from muttering, “No? My boyfriend is very supportive.”

I left it at that, but my head swam with questions. Why was he asking about my boyfriend? Why would he be jealous? Jealous that I’m in Italy? Surely not, no; he meant jealous that I was out for dinner with my host father. What a nasty, assumptive question to throw my way – how inappropriate.

The rest of the ride home was drowned out by his annoying ultra-American pop music blaring throughout the SMART car, my wide-eyed stare penetrating the passenger side window, and “home” finally appearing. I said goodbye without making eye contact, promptly exited the car, and was entering the patio gate when he reversed and sped out of the neighborhood, back to town to resume his fun while his wife and two children slept soundly under the roof of the house I was about to enter.

Ever since this night for the duration of my summer in Catania, I couldn’t look at Francesco without seeing oily, roaming stares and grins, feeling his reaching hands, or averting my eyes and ignoring his manly methods of gaining my attention.

4. Where Are My Weekends?

I was a couple of weeks into my stay in Catania when I started to feel like my host parents were taking advantage of me and my time. While, yes, I was there to be an au pair and watch their kids, teach them English, and help around the house, I was also there to travel and do it cheaply.

Now, I was very fortunate to be in the situation I was in. Claudia, my host mother, works for Au Pair for Kids, a company that partners with GWAT to match au pairs with host families. So, she knew a lot of people and was able to put me in touch with other people my age in Catania. She is also an architectural designer and teaches at the local university, while Francesco has his own engineering and architectural business, overseeing job sites and projects.

This said, they were a well-off Italian family. Their home, nestled in Catania di San Gregorio, a neighborhood 15 minutes away from the city center and up Mt. Etna a way, was four stories tall and what some would consider a mansion. I had my own apartment within the house; a kitchen, bathroom, living room, and bedroom studio overlooking the pool. The top two floors made up their beautiful, marble-covered home, with a sprawling, Italian-tiled terrace overlooking the entire city. The bottom two floors were composed of my apartment, Francesco’s business – within another apartment that had three-plus rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom – and an entire downstairs living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and game room that they recently renovated to host friends and family. Of course, you can’t forget the massive pool deck and patio, as well as the winding staircase that leads to an outdoor shower and a large garden. Yeah, I had it made.

(If you watch the last video in this story, you can view the bottom floor and pool area.)

I am saying all of this to point out that, while I was very grateful and aware of my luck in landing this host family, I was still being taken advantage of. When you become an au pair, you receive and sign a contract that states the maximum hours you can work each week, what the host family will pay you, if you have to work any nights, etc. Based on this contract – that we both signed – I knew I had to work five days a week and no more than six hours a day and 30 hours a week.

However, Fridays would roll around, and Claudia and Francesco would surprise me with the knowledge that I had to stay home while they went out to dinner. This would not have bothered me if (1) I had more advanced notice, (2) I didn’t have plans to go out, and (3) this didn’t push me over my maximum five hours and closer to eight or nine. Then, I was informed that I had to work half a day on the weekends, usually Saturday mornings. You see, this was a problem if I wanted to travel anywhere outside of Sicily, because you can’t get to and from, say, the Amalfi Coast or Venice, in this timeframe while still enjoying yourself and seeing the sites.

So, one Saturday morning, after she asked me to watch Mattia and his friends while they swam, and I had already given up my previous night by babysitting, I suppose I had an attitude with her. Later, she came knocking on my door and, quite patronizingly, told me what I was required to do based on the contract. She told me that I didn’t seem happy, that I was on my phone too much, and that I didn’t interact with the kids enough. And she was right, I knew this. But I had recently confided in and cried to her about how much I was struggling, but that I wanted to make the most of my situation and have her kids love and rely on me. So, it almost felt like a slap across the face to me.

I explained calmly to her that I wasn’t aware of these certain obligations, and that I only ever acted less than excited when plans were sprung on me without warning. I told her I would do better and apologized, and then we discussed how we could plan out our weeks better.

From then on, I didn’t work a single weekend and was always made aware when I would have to watch the kids at night. Everything was astronomically better, and we never butted heads again. For a while there, though, it was just another damper on this surreal experience I had been looking forward to for months if not years. Yet, I’m glad that it worked out for the better, and that we were able to communicate with each other.

5. Making the Most of it All

Even though I still felt extremely out of place and alone throughout the rest of my trip, I knew that I would never forgive myself if I didn't enjoy make the most out of everything and be where my feet were.

The main way I knew how to do this - or get myself in the mindset of doing this - was through creating. Writing, journaling, drawing; you name it, I did it. I even started working on something called 'The Italy Project', cataloguing the people I met while oversees.

I forced myself to make friends, go out to see the city with them, and travel as much as I could. The first time I did this, I met at least six other people, all of whom were traveling or landed in Catania through traveling.

We got a few Aperol and Campari Spritzs in our system, and then set out on electronic bikes throughout the city in search of a nightclub. I felt on top of the world, like I was doing things I never thought I could. I continued to hang out with most of the people I met that night throughout the summer.

I also pushed myself to have more fun and spend more time with the kids I was au pairing; Flavia and Mattia. Anytime they wanted to go to the beach, mall, or town center, I agreed to go with them.

I came up with more interactive lessons to teach them English; I swam in the pool with them more; I talked to them about my life back home and asked them about their life here; we drew constantly and created posters and board games; F1 video games and ping-pong were constantly on the agenda; I stuck up for them with their parents as a friend would. I got closer with to them and, as a result, began to enjoy myself more while “working” with them.

But the biggest help of all was Nikita Karslake. She arrived in Catania three weeks after I did, and she was the au pair of my host mom’s sister. Luckily for me, they lived right down the road in our gated community.

The second day she was there, we went to the beach in Aci Terezza, a small fishing village up the coast. We shared a bottle of champagne and spent the day basking in the sun and Sea winds, and I shared with her my experience so far. She was so compassionate and understanding, and from then on, we spent every weekend and spare moment together. If it weren’t for her, I would not have come close to enjoying my summer as much as I did. To this day, we still keep in touch, even if she is back home in Australia.

6. Where I visited while living in Italy

An ancient port city, Catania is the second largest city in Sicily, nestled between the shimmering east coast and the angry, spitting, active Mt. Etna, a stratovolcano - the most active in the world. Because of this, and Catania's history with the Italian Mafia, the city has an alter ego of sorts, a nickname: the gates to hell. Comforting! While Etna has destroyed Catania on six occasions in the last 5,000 years with its city-covering lava, it only majorly erupted twice while I was living there. I was picking pieces of volcanic rock out of my hair for weeks. Catania is also known for 'The Godfather', as many scenes were filmed there.

Now, the real home of 'The Godfather' is Palermo, Sicily, where you can find Mafia museums, as well as movie merchandise and memorabilia on every street cart. It's also the capital of Sicily and the home to the Palazzo dei Normanni, a royal palace, and the University of Palermo. My Australian au pair friend Nikita and I visited for two days and one night at the recommendations of our host moms, but we were too stunned by the overwhelming waste littering the streets and horrid smells to find much appreciation in the city.

Siracusa, my favorite Sicilian city that I visited, is located within an hour south of Catania on the Ionian coast. Ortigia is the most popular place to visit, an island stretching off Siracusa with winding streets, beautiful Sea views, and sand-colored, ancient buildings everywhere. A highly visited area, this city is known for its archeological treasures, open-air bars, rich Greek and Roman history, and the home and birthplace of Archimedes.

Taormina may be more known nowadays, as it is the filming location of season two of 'The White Lotus'; I kept my eyes peeled for Theo James the whole time I was there. While it's a very rich town, Nikita and I - as well as an Australian girl we met at the bus station - had the time of our lives riding the gondola from the top cliff down to the beautiful, rocky beaches. While the drive up the cliff of Taormina was beautiful, we also loved the cobblestone streets, colorful restaurants, and the culture we experienced by watching people of any and every race.

The most beautiful place I visited – have ever visited, for that matter – is Florence, Tuscany. From the moment I stepped foot onto its cobblestone streets, I fell in love. THIS was the Italy I had imagined. The capital of the Tuscany region, Florence is home to Renaissance masterpieces, including Michelangelo’s ‘David’ sculpture, the most iconic cathedral I’ve ever seen – the Duomo – and some of the most breath-taking museums and terracotta buildings.

Rome... where do I even start? While I was only there for four hours, my breath was absolutely taken away by the iconic, historical sites that I have only ever dreamt of visiting. Because Will and I had time to kill in between riding the train back from Florence and taking another train to Fiumicino (where the airport is), we decided to spend our time wisely. So, we near-sprinted from the Colosseum, to the Vittoriano Monument, to the Pantheon, and finally, to the Trevi Fountain. My feet were killing me, but I wouldn't change our cross-country hike throughout Rome for anything - and I hope to go back one day and spend more time there.

Naples is a city I have always wanted to visit, and I won't lie by saying the reason is for anything other than their pizza. The Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli was insane (and long, taking three hours to get through), as well as the city center and piazzas, offering some of the best food, souvenirs, and views. My favorite was the Pizzeria da Michele, the famous, Michelin Star restaurant that many celebrities have visited and where Julia Roberts ate pizza and shot a scene in 'Eat, Pray, Love'. I was in heaven. Visiting Pompeii, just 30 minutes away by train, was like stepping into another world; a deserted one. While it was boiling hot and dusty, it was so surreal to view and learn about what happened so many centuries ago.

7. Last Day Message

"It’s my last day here in Catania. I noticed the Mediterranean Sea in the distance, how blue it looks today. I picked up on how the smog seems like a thinner blanket laying over the city today compared to its usual heaviness. I spent 20 amazing minutes floating in the pool before returning inside to make myself an egg-in-a-nest breakfast – just as scrumptious as the other 20 times I’ve made myself the same meal here.

The kids didn’t annoy me today, and maybe it was just a good day or maybe it was because it’s my last day away. Looking forward to this moment for the past two months, I was worried it would arrive and then I wouldn’t want to leave, that suddenly this was the place I wanted to stay. And while I woke up in Sicily this morning and was grateful and sun-kissed and had many overwhelming feelings of being blessed and grateful for my situation and experiences, I was still ecstatic thinking about returning to America tomorrow.

Returning to my family; my pup; my best friends who are the best I’ve ever had, who I used to pray for; my boyfriend who I miss with every passing second, and whose relationship with me was interrupted a month and a half in because of this trip. I miss my cozy college house that I get to live in for one more year with said best friends; my morning trips to grab coffee before taking the winding road to campus, the way Murphy sprints around the yard after doing his business and when I make the slightest of movements; the way my old bartending boss always texts on Saturdays telling me to come drink free Tecate lights; the way Fayetteville feels like home.

I miss butter and beer and driving and having the ability – let alone the means – to go where I want when I want; doing my own laundry; grocery shopping; friend time; having confidants beyond that of 12 and 14-year-olds. I miss not getting blatantly stared at, honked and whistled at, and cat-called everywhere I go. I miss garlic salt and onion powder, Buldak ramen and Whataburger, Josh Cellars wine, and my oh-so-soft bed. I miss litter-free streets (people don’t talk about this enough when it comes to Italy – Europe, even) and 90-degree weather that DOESN’T make my whole body sweat upon stepping foot outside.

But, beyond that, there are so many things I will miss about Living in Catania, in Sicily, in Italy, in Europe. I will miss that I can have two bottles of wine delivered to me by a man on a bike for 20 euros; having pasta every day (sometimes twice a day) and not gaining a single pound – I’m serious, not one pound; my seven windows that overlook the swimming pool that overlooks the entire city of Catania and the Mediterranean Sea; having a swimming pool at my disposal, as I’ve swam more this summer than I have in the last ten years; arancini, specifically pistachio arancini, which I will perhaps miss more than anything else here; almond granita with a warm brioche and latte macchiato for breakfast; having lunch at 1:30 and dinner at 8:00 every single day, and for that matter, not having roiling stomach pains and bubble guts; meeting someone every time I go out that’s from a different place and here for a different reason; having the freedom to visit places that I’ve only ever been able to dream about.

Yes, there’s a lot I have missed during my two months away, but there’s also an unbelievable number of appreciations that I have from being here. Despite getting scammed by GWAT, my host father casting a dark shadow over my experience with his inappropriateness, and feeling more isolation and mental health struggles than I ever have before, I wouldn’t give up these memories, experiences, and growth for anything. While solo travel may not be for me, I was able to push my boundaries and comfort zones, travel across the world, and do things I never imagined I would do."

8. Takeaways, Lessons & Feelings

All in all, I am sharing all of these memories to emphasize that no one’s travel experiences look the same, and it’s okay to struggle in a situation that you prayed and worked so hard for. It doesn’t have to be what you expected, but do what your heart tells you: in my case, my heart was telling me to stick it out and make the most of it, because if I didn’t, I would have greatly regretted it.

Now, I can look back on my Italian au pair summer with happy memories, pride that I made it through and didn’t give up like I wanted to, and the knowledge that I made the most out of it all. While there are some aspects I would change – planning my trip through GWAT and my host father treating me inappropriately – I would not change this summer and my time in Sicily, not for anything in the world.

I made friends in ways that were outside of my comfort zone. I explored the city alone on most days, even though it terrified the wits out of me. I traveled to places that have held so much room in my brain. I grew as a person, expanding what I could handle, what I wanted out of life, and my self-confidence to go and get it. I had the time to fall back into old passions and hobbies. I experienced the beauties of life and ‘La Viva Dolce’ by exposing myself to not only the Italian culture but endless others too.

I had the best food imaginable, the best wine drinkable, and the best experiences possible. It was a dream come true, despite the struggles, and I will never forget my Italian summer for as long as I live.