Are we there yet?
I wonder when it is that I'll finally feel like I am completely confident that what I THINK I am saying is what people are actually hearing?
How long before words come easily - and easily confused words (pesche for peaches, pesce for fish ... sceglia, choice or scioglie, melt) don't play gymnastics with my mind and tongue?
How long before I can elegantly and kindly offer someone a glass of wine when they are a guest in my home, as opposed to the awkward equivalent of "Want wine, you??"
When will the elusive 'conditional' tense make SENSE to me?
How long is it before I can casually eavesdrop on a conversation at the next table?
(Heavy sigh.) Longer than I've been here.
No, Patience is not my long suit. (As blogdaddy Sean, The Sensitive Rebel, would say, um, have you met you?!?!)
Perserverance, however, is. Funny that. And I'm not afraid to make a total ass out of myself, which helps.
I heard through my neighbor that Biondo, our darling wood-man, said after meeting me, "She doesn't seem like an American. She must have been Italian in another life"
Oh, I could have kissed him!!!
I may still accidentally order peaches from the fish cart, but according to Biondo, I do it with an Italian spirit. And THAT is no small accomplishment.
Sometimes the little victories are the sweetest. Or so I tell myself because they're the only ones I have. That's kind of like enjoying MRE's when you have no other food source, I get it. But hey, self-delusion is a talent, too.
How long before words come easily - and easily confused words (pesche for peaches, pesce for fish ... sceglia, choice or scioglie, melt) don't play gymnastics with my mind and tongue?
How long before I can elegantly and kindly offer someone a glass of wine when they are a guest in my home, as opposed to the awkward equivalent of "Want wine, you??"
When will the elusive 'conditional' tense make SENSE to me?
How long is it before I can casually eavesdrop on a conversation at the next table?
(Heavy sigh.) Longer than I've been here.
No, Patience is not my long suit. (As blogdaddy Sean, The Sensitive Rebel, would say, um, have you met you?!?!)
Perserverance, however, is. Funny that. And I'm not afraid to make a total ass out of myself, which helps.
I heard through my neighbor that Biondo, our darling wood-man, said after meeting me, "She doesn't seem like an American. She must have been Italian in another life"
Oh, I could have kissed him!!!
I may still accidentally order peaches from the fish cart, but according to Biondo, I do it with an Italian spirit. And THAT is no small accomplishment.
Sometimes the little victories are the sweetest. Or so I tell myself because they're the only ones I have. That's kind of like enjoying MRE's when you have no other food source, I get it. But hey, self-delusion is a talent, too.
posted by Viaggiatore | 11/02/2005
2 Comments:
My MIL also told me I am more Italian than any European she has met.
Perhaps patience isn't your long suit. But be kind to yourself. You've learned so many things in the months since you arrived in Italy. I'm amazed at your ability to rattle off the names of any one of a dozen different people who will assist you in fixing the heat, repairing the car, or delivering livestock to eliminate lawn mowing. Cultivating those kind of relationships with people requires a skill that crosses all language barriers. To do so without understanding conditional tense is even more impressive. Be kind to yourself. You know more than you realize. You are gathering wisdom, which, while it may not get you a second glass of wine, is what will carry you through.
-Jillybean
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