I started Italian language class this week, one of the major reasons I decided to stay in Rome for a month. The school is called Scuola Leonarda da Vinci (what else would it be called?), and it attracts students of all ages from around the globe. In my classroom, there are 10 students and, to my surprise, I am the only American. My classmates come from all across Europe and one student, Padre Giovanni, is from Ecuador. Our teacher, Monica, is everything a teacher should be. She knows how to capture our attention, and she is warm and funny and has gotten to know each of us personally.
What is fascinating about my classmates is that Italian is not the second language for any of them. It is the third, fourth, or even fifth. Without fail, all of them speak English, and that's the language we all use during breaks when we talk to each other.And, without fail, I am the one who has the most difficulty speaking in class (although I must say that some of the students have rather unfortunate accents, particularly those from northern Europe.) These students show such facility switching from one language to another and this facility has proved to be of such value to them, that I rue the fact that my parents' generation felt the need to become assimilated into the American culture as quickly as possible and forego the language of the Old Country. I, too, could have been "hard-wired" for learning languages. I have a renewed appreciation for newer immigrants to America who insist on preserving their native language so that their children could be multilingual in this global economy. May the "English Only" movement in the States never succeed!
One of the most gifted students, Franci (as she likes to be called) from Germany, is a hard-working young lady of 20. She takes her lessons very seriously, and is off to the library every day after class to do her homework and study. She can always be counted on to have the correct answers to Monica's questions. Franci and I have become friends in class, and she has kindly offered to study with me, because, as she put it, she would learn a lot by helping me. Yesterday I told her I would take her up on her offer the next day. As I waited around after class for her today, books in hand, eager to study with her, Franci approached me timidly to tell me she couldn't stay after class with me after all, because she was going shopping for shoes! I just laughed and told her I understood perfectly. After all, we're in Rome! Even the most conscientious student has to come to her senses and succumb to some of Rome's earthly delights some time. Can't wait to see her shoes tomorrow!
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I too wish I had been given the opportunity to speak dialect Italian (abbruzzese) as a child, when my mother conversed with her parents. My first real study of the language came the year after I graduated college -- lessons with the famous Carmela of the America-Italy Soc'y -- which resulted in one of the most rewarding experiences of my young adulthood: the ability to speak with my grandparents in their native tongue. Well, they spoke dialect and I spoke 'proper' Italian mixed with some of the standard abbruzzese phrased I had picked up once my ears became atuned to the language. I was fascinated by the differences between the two, and still enjoy the challenge of understanding the siracusiano spoken by Corrado's family. Brava, Janet!
Janet, After the somewhat rocky start your adventure in Rome seems to be everything that you hoped it would be. I've really enjoyed your narratives as they transport us to a city that I, for one, have never visited. And you're filling us in on everything, from ancient titulus churches to twenty-first century shoe shopping. Surely, an eclectic mix! I'm really disappointed now that I did not make plans to join you for at least a week. But I know that you have plenty of friends who will be dropping by. Perhaps I'll join you for your next adventure.
P.S. - I'm glad you found the apostrophe key. Take care!!
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