Our First (Poor) Attempt Learning Italian

If someone doesn’t understand you in English, speaking slow and shouting don’t help. I should know, I have failed at this more than once. To communicate, you really need to learn some of the local language – at least enough to get by. This is doubly important if you are about to call it a home. Pocket translators and phrase books can only get you so far. Understanding this, we looked for language lessons nearby. Wherever there are large groups of students, a military community, or expatriates, there are typically a few options. Our new locale was no exception – with three options available. A beginner class was offered from 9 to 10 AM – a no-go with the work schedule – not mine as I currently have nothing but time. An intermediate class was held from 5 to 6 PM – geared towards those working an 8 to 5 schedule, and a little later than we would like. However, there was a semi-hybrid class, less structured and between beginner and intermediate, from 3:45 to 5. Since we both speak Spanish (and how different can Italian be we thought) and with my wife’s schedule, this was right in our wheelhouse! However, as can happen as we gain experience (age), sometimes what you think you know and your theory on how things (or your mind) should work doesn’t line up with reality. In Later Gap Travels, this can lead to some interesting, and frustrating, experiences.

Let the Lessons Commence

We showed up to our first day of class. Classes had been going for a couple weeks by the time we joined, and there were five other people in the class. The first thing we noticed was that the instructor, all 95 pounds of her, was dressed in a rather fashionable, but eclectic, outfit – wide flowy pants, a very colorful top, an accent scarf, and neon blue tennis shoes – not quite what we had been seeing nor wearing in Eastern North Carolina, and certainly not what we had packed in our suitcase. After a welcome and introductions, they talked about what they had covered the previous class – all in Italian. We didn’t understand a word. This was not going well – within 10 minutes we were under-dressed and clueless. Maybe, due to living in England and then North Carolina for the last several years, our ears needed to re-tune to the language – they don’t speak much Italian (or Spanish) in those places.

Our first lesson was introductions and jobs – names, where are you from, why are you here, what do you do, how old are you, are you married, do you have children, what are their names and ages, etc., etc. That was the first thirty minutes – then the instructor played a taped dialogue, and we were supposed to answer several questions (see previous sentence for examples.) By 45 minutes in, we were completely lost. By the end of the lesson, we were farther behind than when we started. And at the end of class, we discovered that this was kind of a beginner lesson. We couldn’t wait until classes started to get a little difficult (that is sarcasm.)

Back for Round Two

We thought we were kind of ready for our next drink from the fire hose. When we came back the next week (classes are once a week), we at least knew what to expect. We still hadn’t changed outfits, we fit in with the Americans, but not the locals. In my humble opinion, that is probably fine (and to be expected) in Later Gap Travels – too many new tricks for old dogs and trying too hard to chase the local fashion can result in looking like a train wreck. This time there were only three others. In this lesson, after going over what we had done the previous week (and of which we still had very little clue), we went over basic verbs – specifically to be, and to have, which are in just about every sentence, and which happen to be very irregular. A bonus in this lesson was the instructor had written the words and conjugations on the board and we each got a handout. Although we still only understood about 10% of what was said, at least we could play along – and it is easier to fill out worksheets without a clue than to decipher a dialogue. We still struggled through, at about the same level as one of the other students – but well behind another couple that was in the class. We weren’t quite as dispirited this time, we felt better about keeping up with one other person.

The following week we showed up with just the other couple and the instructor. Our fellow students seemed to be dropping like flies. This time, we discussed family trees – from great grandparents to nieces, nephews, grandchildren, and in-laws. The instructor drew a pretty extensive tree (it looked like a mature oak) on the board – I was thinking, “what’s wrong with a bonsai tree?” We practiced a bit on the words and concepts – and then got another set of dialogues. From these, we tried to determine (guess) which family members were mentioned by whom and how everyone was related. It reminded me of my hometown where most folks are related somehow and it is kind of a game to figure out how, or why, except this time it included the added bonus of being done in Italian. When we left, we not only felt clueless, but we were also unsure how this was going to really help us in our day-to-day life and adjusting to Italy, unless we get invited to a family reunion – and then we will be ready, as long as we can bring our cheat-sheets. The other couple seemed to be doing well – with one asking questions every so often (in Italian) and the other nodding along. Although this beginning/intermediate Italian class was quite a bit beyond what we were expecting, and rather above the level where we found ourselves at this point, we were still hanging tough. And, we had discovered that Italian is NOT just like Spanish with the same words in a little more sing-song voice.

Something Useful – Or So We Thought

One week later and it was time to try again. We had asked for a lesson on eating out and how to make reservations, and the instructor brought it. We had already had two epic fails in the reservations department and we wanted to know how to get a table, if at least for a pizza. The gist of the lesson was on ordering and foods. However, beyond just what the foods were, we learned about cuts of meat and preparation and ordering with allergies or special dishes – and all I wanted at this point was how to order a pepperoni and mushroom pizza (quick note – the word isn’t pepperoni, that is a red or green bell pepper in Italy.) Before finishing up with how to make reservations, we wrapped up the section by ordering off of a menu from our instructor – I went for a plain pasta and a well-done steak with a beer and no dessert. I knew my limitations – an appetizer, pasta with a wild boar sauce, a nice cut of meat done medium-rare, a tasty dessert, and a bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano to share were not in my league. Then we started in on how to make reservations on the phone.

The actual phrases were pretty straightforward – you start with, “Un tavolo per due alla otto” (A table for two at 8 – technically “alla vente” (20), they use a 24 hour clock with 1 PM equating to 1300). Then they ask, “Nome per favore” and you give your name. This is followed by “Numero de telefono” and you provide your phone number. How simple is that? We practiced with the instructor a few times and we were ready!

Driving home, we decided to try our new skill with a pizza place near our new home. That is where we quickly ran into a couple very real problems. First, they speak a heck of a lot faster in real life and on the phone than they do in Italian class. Second, they don’t follow the script – after “Un tavolo per due alle sei (6)”, they didn’t ask “Nome per favore.” In fact, we had no clue what they asked. We tried again, this time also giving our names – they wanted something else, and it wasn’t “numero de telefono.” We asked if they spoke English – no dice. By this time we were getting close so we tried just “Tavolo per due” – still no luck. Finally we decided to revert to our usual, just show up and pretend we had the reservations (which was what we did with our first pizza place in Pisa – Pizzeria Il Principe della Pizza, no website but a wonderful little pizzeria, lite on the atmosphere with good food and a wonderful staff) or hang up and hope no harm done besides embarrassing ourselves and wasting someone’s time trying to talk to us on the phone. We chose the first option and drove around looking for the place, only to find this was one time when the actual location and Google Maps didn’t align. We ended up settling for option 2 – we tucked our tails between our legs, went home, and tried to figure something else to eat. So much for the reservations lesson, chalk up another one in the loss column.

Shopping in Italian

We steeled ourselves for the following week’s lesson, which the instructor told was about shopping – another one that maybe we could use. We had been in Italy for about a month and a half and were still waiting for our stuff to arrive (the shippers fed us a long story about a slow boat). The clothes we had brought were to enjoy the beach and golf life under the Tuscan Sun – which it was NOT, see Step 4 in Making the Move – were not quite working as envisioned. The other couple and the instructor were there. We chatted with the other couple a bit prior to the start of the lesson (like where are you from, what do you do, etc., in English) since we hadn’t understood a single part of that from the first lesson. The wife was a lawyer, working with an office full of Italians, and had been studying Italian for the past two years, living in Italy for one. The husband was Italian, had moved to the U.S. when young, but had extensive family in the area. No wonder they were asking questions in Italian and now we knew why we were covering things like “extended family.” So much for beginner/intermediate, and now we knew why everyone else had abandoned us.

The lesson on shopping was something similar to learning about families or food – instead of basics, pants and shirts (parents/children or pasta/pizza), we learned about different materials, styles, and colors for several types of outfits, footwear, and accessories. Then we had to design a complete outfit and order it with the instructor asking questions about size and fit. I am fairly certain I would have walked out in a tutu, combat boots, and a baseball cap – or ended up looking for the employee with extra patience and some English. And from how things sounded, I think my wife would have matched me. As we struggled through our ordering, with my wife getting more and more frustrated, one of the other students told her she could do it with a little more growth mindset. FYI – that is not something you really want to say to most teachers, especially after a long day in a mixed class full of fourth and fifth graders.

We left and decided this wasn’t going to work. While we knew that we still desperately needed to learn Italian, doing so in a class with only one other couple who are light years ahead of where we are for one hour a week wasn’t going to work. Christmas break was coming up and we decided to look for a different option when we got back. Fast forward a month – my wife has found a new class; it is with an older instructor who has been teaching language for many years and he keeps telling her “pieno” (slowly) – she is doing very well, both in learning and enjoying the language and experience. Meanwhile, I wander around the small village, trying to talk to people in daily life – sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t go quite as well as hoped (like my first haircut). But my thought is that is how I will gain the stories that make moving abroad at a later stage the adventure that it can be. My goal is to keep a positive attitude, don’t get too frustrated, maintain realistic expectations, realize I am the guest in this locale, and continue to try to learn and grow. That is really all we can ever do.