Is this the turning point?

Ciao a tutti,

I have had a couple of concerned emails from my daughter, my sister and a couple of really good girlfriends (thanks for caring!) about my seeming discouragement on the last post about my disappointment in regards to the slowness of my language acquisition. I'M OKAY, EVERYBODY!

You guys know I am an effusive type, both of the good things and bad things, and I am going to be honest about what is going on. Perhaps I have disillusioned some of you since I'm not writing glowing, touristy pieces about all the traveling Daniel and I are doing or the wonderful, creamy and frothy cappuccini I am drinking every morning, or the spiritual connection I have felt sitting in an incredibly old and beautiful cathedral (although all of those things are happening!), but, those of you who know me know this year in Italy is just as much about figuring out who I am and what I want to do when I grow up as well as enjoying my amazing adopted country. That said . . .

I have had a couple of really positive experiences during the last week that I am hoping is a signal of a turning point in my facility in Italian.

1. Daniel and I spent last weekend hiking in the Cinque Terre (my favorite place in the world!) and were in the train station at La Spezia when a desperate, middle-aged American woman rushed up to the employee in the tabaccheria pleading for help. She had left her passport in the hotel in Vernazza, had a Eurostar train that was leaving for Rome in less than 30 minutes and was returning to the States in 1 1/2 days. She didn't know how to use the Italian pay phone and wasn't sure anyway that she could describe her problem in Italian. Even though our train was leaving in 15 minutes, I took mercy on her (see, I can be nice sometimes :)) and told her that I had a telefonino (cell phone) and would make the call for her. It was actually quite simple, just explaining to the proprietor the situation, giving them the address of the hotel in room and explaining her flight plans. She was tearful, hugged me profusely and called me her "guardian angel" (she was from Texas, perhaps explaining this :)). My Italian friends won't think much of this, and neither did I initially, but on the train home I had time to reflect that there is no way in hell I would have been able to make even such a simple phone call two months ago. In fact, that was a problem I had last spring when I was trying to make arrangements to get Daniel enrolled in the Montessori School here in Perugia. I had to draft a list of questions ahead of time, and when the responses weren't exactly what I expected, I had a difficult time configuring a response spontaneously. After a couple of embarrassingly humiliating phone calls, I gave up. In fact, if I hadn't met Caterina, my friend and teacher at the Montessori School, Daniel would probably not have the opportunity to be there now. Of course, I still make plenty of mistakes on the phone but generally can make a simple call now. This also demonstrates to me how much we rely on facial expression and those amazing Italian gestures for communication; all of that is unavailable on the phone and I am just now able to muddle through it, "muddle" being the key word. However small, it is a measurable step forward for me.

2. Last week I was in "our" pasticceria, purchasing Daniel's usual cannollo al cioccolato for breakfast (yeah, yeah, I know, what happened to the homemade blueberry pancakes with sausage, eggs and fruit I used to make for him in the States? Some things have just had to go here). The usual "pastry lady" had actually been somewhat cold to me up to this point, for what reason I'm not sure; I usually meet and converse with almost anyone quite easily, but she remained formal and on guard, continuing to address me in the "Lei" (formal way) even after 6 weeks of seeing me every morning. This evening was different: when I entered the bakery, she rushed over to me and said, "Aiutami" (help me). It seems that there were two Austrian gentlemen trying to buy tiramisu' for 36 people and she only had one available that would serve 10. She was quite frustrated, trying to explain to them she couldn't whip up another three cakes in 30 minutes (the men obviously had ZERO experience in baking--but don't get me started on fixed sex roles, one of my pet peeves :)), but she had plenty of other "salami" (roll type cakes that are amazingly yummy, filled with fruit, cream and other sinful stuff) to offer them. Obviously, there was a huge communication gap and both parties were getting frustrated but she didn't want to lose such a big sell. I felt very useful, acting as the go-between, figuring out what they wanted and for what purpose in English, then translating it into Italian for the pastry lady, taking her parameters and offerings in Italian, and translating it into English for the Austrian gentlemen. In the end, they bought a shitload of cakes, about 70 Euro worth! For my bilingual and trilingual friends, I'm sure this must seem a pitiful and simple example, but for me, it showed that I am starting to be able to utilize my Italian in a novel, unplanned, out-of-the-textbook situation and, for that, I am proud. She actually hugged me and kissed me when I left, and now, everyday, when Daniel and I go to the pasticceria, she says "Ecco la mia traduttrice" (there's my translator)!

3. People aren't automatically speaking to me in English anymore. The first month here, I got funny looks everytime I tried to interact with someone, even in the grocery store or in a coffee bar. Most people thought I was French, I have no idea why, and started speaking to me in French or English. It is very humbling to think that you "know" a language (again, the difference between textbook learning and having to live somewhere) and having everyone look at you like you are an idiot, deducting 50 points from your Intelligence Quotient. In fact, that is something else I have learned from this experience--while I may be considered "intelligent" in the United States, I cannot expect that same esteem everywhere in the world, in fact, nowhere else. This has been humbling and underlines our American way of assuming superiority, even though I definitely don't consider myself Americo-centric (is that a word?). There is a huge market in Perugia this week, celebrating Day of the Dead, Ogni Morto, and there are vendors from all over Europe selling cool stuff like linens and soaps from Provence (my daughter knows my fetish for fragrance soaps!!!), sausages and cheeses and wines from Sardegna and Puglia, olives of every flavor imaginable from all over Italy, and artwork ranging from really beautiful stuff to the truly tacky (as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder but does anyone really want a limegreen, hand-carved wax gnome that smells like cinnamon?!). I haven't really bought anything (okay, I admit to a couple of soaps :)), but it has been fun to talk to the vendors and ask about their products (wine and food are other passions). And, after a few such conversations, I noticed that there is still the look of recognition in their eyes that I am a "straniera" (foreigner) but I guess I am not so awful that they revert to French or English, but humor me by continuing to speak to me in Italian. A small triumph, I admit, but I claim it anyway!

4. Most importantly, I am feeling more relaxed in class now. I had a really bad week two weeks ago, making an ass out of myself in one class when I froze up and answered a question on emigration from Italy in a very simplistic, halted fashion, even stumbling on how to say "in the 1920s, blah, blah, blah" (and the professor had called on me, I think, because she thought I would be reliable in being able to give a half-way intelligible response :)). Then, my phonetics professor has criticized me from day one, picking apart my "accento americano", which, by the way, is true; however, last week she said, "Even our americana has correct pronunciation today". And, this week, I was able to dissect an article on the role of the amygdala and its role in pessimism (much to the boredom of my classmates :)) and how that impedes responding positively in a crisis (really, the article wasn't as complicated as it sounds; it was from a popular magazine, hence, the inaccuracy of the information)--even though I made mistakes, I was able to discuss the shortcomings and oversimplification of the (quasi)neuroscience in the article.

Anyway, perhaps next week will be a different story (and, admittedly, I still struggle when the conversation is about material that I don't have the vocabulary to discuss), but I will savor
the two good weeks that I have had!

Baci e abbraci,
Carla