Ho perso le parole (I have lost the words) is a very nice Italian song by Ligabue but this is not what I wanted to write about. Instead, I wanted to say that I am the one at this moment who has lost the words. At least when it comes to the Italian words because as a recent Skype call proved, the little I knew in Italian, has wanished within a month. I tried to have a somewhat meaningful conversation in Italian but all I managed was a series of umm's.
As you can imagine, I am not at all happy with this discovery. The little confidence I had abot this language, is now gone. The last week or two I spent in Italy passed in a blissful knowledge that even though it will take years before I can discuss, say philosophy, in Italian, I can at least keep up a light conversation and I will not get discouraged after the second question. For me it was a great achievement as previously I could not even understand the simplest questions among the simple questions.
And now I am back to square one? When it comes to speaking and listening, yes but fortunately reading simple texts is not too difficult. Also, there are always dictionaries nearby, if needed. But when it comes to spoken text, right now I wish everyone had those comic book-style text balloons which would allow me to see where one word ends and the other one begins.
Showing posts with label Italian language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italian language. Show all posts
6/30/09
3/30/09
the silent stranger
I think they use the word 'foreigner' more often than 'stranger' but in italian the term is 'straniera' and it does make more sense because usually the foreigners are just a little strange - they don't know even the most elementary things. They don't understand the language, they order cappucino after eleven in the morning, they don't understand some of the jokes and they are completely ignorant about the unwritten social laws.
Well, I am a stranger and like all stranieri I am also quiet. Why? Well, it's because I don't know enough of the language to take part in the conversation. All, I can do is listen very carefully and try hard to catch the words (which of course are not pronounced the way they are pronounced in textbook dialogues). I can then take the words and I can try to understand the meaning of the sentence. When I am lucky, there are no puns involved and I understand. I try hard, I look at people carefully. They think I understand and they look me in the eyes. I nod and I smile because i want to be friendly. I want them to speak to see what I understand. But, the ugly truth is - most of the time the things they say has no meaning to me. Then again, sometimes there is just one word that does sound familiar and I am saved, I understand.
Oh, but speaking! Well, of course I have to do it. There is no other way to practice a language. Then again, to be completely honest, I seem more intelligent, when I am silent. Because when I open my mouth, terrible sentences come out. Today, for example, I went shopping for shoes. I tried a shoe on and i wanted the other one too. But alas, instead of asking do you have a shoe for the other foot too, i asked do you have it for the other hand too. Oh well... I realized it exactly 0.1 seconds after I had formed my sentence. Still, it was too late. The shop assistant, however, remained emotionless. Was he polite or wasn't he paying attention to my mumbling? I hope the latter. Let me have my false hopes!
And when I stop doing strange things accidentally, will I stop being a 'straniera'? The truth is that italians can do strange things because they speak the language perfectly but I can try to follow all the rules but because of my nose, my eyes and my broken Italian, I am the one who will remain a foreinger. No, I don't mind. Being somewhat exotic is quite nice actually.
Well, I am a stranger and like all stranieri I am also quiet. Why? Well, it's because I don't know enough of the language to take part in the conversation. All, I can do is listen very carefully and try hard to catch the words (which of course are not pronounced the way they are pronounced in textbook dialogues). I can then take the words and I can try to understand the meaning of the sentence. When I am lucky, there are no puns involved and I understand. I try hard, I look at people carefully. They think I understand and they look me in the eyes. I nod and I smile because i want to be friendly. I want them to speak to see what I understand. But, the ugly truth is - most of the time the things they say has no meaning to me. Then again, sometimes there is just one word that does sound familiar and I am saved, I understand.
Oh, but speaking! Well, of course I have to do it. There is no other way to practice a language. Then again, to be completely honest, I seem more intelligent, when I am silent. Because when I open my mouth, terrible sentences come out. Today, for example, I went shopping for shoes. I tried a shoe on and i wanted the other one too. But alas, instead of asking do you have a shoe for the other foot too, i asked do you have it for the other hand too. Oh well... I realized it exactly 0.1 seconds after I had formed my sentence. Still, it was too late. The shop assistant, however, remained emotionless. Was he polite or wasn't he paying attention to my mumbling? I hope the latter. Let me have my false hopes!
And when I stop doing strange things accidentally, will I stop being a 'straniera'? The truth is that italians can do strange things because they speak the language perfectly but I can try to follow all the rules but because of my nose, my eyes and my broken Italian, I am the one who will remain a foreinger. No, I don't mind. Being somewhat exotic is quite nice actually.
3/2/09
first impressions
Well I suppose it is kind of mandatory to say a few words about my flight, first of all. Well, in a few words: the flight was thankfully uneventful. And I recieved my suitcase from the baggage claim in record time. The previous time it took forever, this time it was among the first. Wow! It wasn't too hepful, though. Because according to the tradition my italian is always late (read: stuck in traffic) when I am waiting in the airport. Well, at least I could spend an hour looking at interesting people.
Sunday was in a way quite shocking. No, nothing special happened, but I drowned myself fully inside the italian environment and it must have been a shock for my brain. Well, i accepted an invitation to go see a play by a local amateur theatre. This meant one and a half hours of constant italian. I have a strong impression that the play was funny. Everyone laughed, you see. Well I laughed too. I think that maybe I even understood a thing or two....
Later I continued hearing Italian in a nearby pub. At the beginning everything was indeed very nice. I skimmed for familiar words in the conversation of 5 native italias. But sadly soon enough everything became just a constant flow of noise. On the few rare occasions, i was given some attention, i was slightly terrified. Their questions were undeshipherable for me. I must have had a terrified look in my eyes, when I looked in to the eyes of my Italian and begged for a translation. Well, I tried to at least anwser in Italian. And all I could come up with was si mangiano molte le patate in Estonia (A lot of potatoes are eaten in Estonia). Probably I made a few mistakes even with that simple sentence, but the pub was noisy and maybe, just maybe the didn't realize it....
Today I was in Rome and today I have spoken (or tried to speak) with more strangers than I do in Tallinn in one month. The craziest moment was when a man with a microphone jumped out of nowhere. Eee....non parlo....And before I could even realize what I had said, he was long gone. I guess there is truth in the belief that Estonians are phlegmatic....At least in comparison with Italians.
Later I tried my best to adress a question correctly. Scusi, quel direzione per Termini, I asked an older lady. She pointed right. Well, she did understand me. Was it correct? I have no idea. At least I found a way to Termini. So, I took the train (this is where I am right now) and soon enough I get off in Frascati train station. I wish I could boast with the weather, but it is raining. Still, its much warmer and more spring-like than in Estonia.
Sunday was in a way quite shocking. No, nothing special happened, but I drowned myself fully inside the italian environment and it must have been a shock for my brain. Well, i accepted an invitation to go see a play by a local amateur theatre. This meant one and a half hours of constant italian. I have a strong impression that the play was funny. Everyone laughed, you see. Well I laughed too. I think that maybe I even understood a thing or two....
Later I continued hearing Italian in a nearby pub. At the beginning everything was indeed very nice. I skimmed for familiar words in the conversation of 5 native italias. But sadly soon enough everything became just a constant flow of noise. On the few rare occasions, i was given some attention, i was slightly terrified. Their questions were undeshipherable for me. I must have had a terrified look in my eyes, when I looked in to the eyes of my Italian and begged for a translation. Well, I tried to at least anwser in Italian. And all I could come up with was si mangiano molte le patate in Estonia (A lot of potatoes are eaten in Estonia). Probably I made a few mistakes even with that simple sentence, but the pub was noisy and maybe, just maybe the didn't realize it....
Today I was in Rome and today I have spoken (or tried to speak) with more strangers than I do in Tallinn in one month. The craziest moment was when a man with a microphone jumped out of nowhere. Eee....non parlo....And before I could even realize what I had said, he was long gone. I guess there is truth in the belief that Estonians are phlegmatic....At least in comparison with Italians.
Later I tried my best to adress a question correctly. Scusi, quel direzione per Termini, I asked an older lady. She pointed right. Well, she did understand me. Was it correct? I have no idea. At least I found a way to Termini. So, I took the train (this is where I am right now) and soon enough I get off in Frascati train station. I wish I could boast with the weather, but it is raining. Still, its much warmer and more spring-like than in Estonia.
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