I love Italian.
Aside from the fact that the modern tongue is directly developed from some of the greatest writers in Italian history, and regardless of the evolution of the language from individual regional dialects to the Tuscan and mostly Florentine vernacular becoming the prominent common language, and despite my bias because of how much I love Florence… I love Italian.
There are so many things about this language that are more beautiful, more creative, and more romantic than English could ever hope to be. How can you not love a language in which dinner is a verb?! Io ceno, I dine.
My new nickname is buona forchetta, which literally means ‘good fork’ but is their way of saying one has a good appetite. I consider it a compliment.
The Italian class I am taking this semester is more than overwhelming. I am doing a semester worth of second level Italian in four weeks, and then intermediate Italian for the remaining two months. I felt like I was having a heart attack in my brain today when my teacher tried to explain the difference between in and nel in relation to place, but then I learnt the word for hug, abbracciare, which literally means ‘embrace her’ and I fell in love with the language all over again.
Making a simple word more exciting by adding –issima to the end is, well, exciting. Bravissima! Bellissima! Or, one that I have become particularly well acquainted with in my short time here in Tuscania, Freddissima! (which means really f-ing cold).
Cado innamorato is a much more beautiful way of saying ‘fall in love’. It makes me almost believe that when one falls in love in Italy one never hits the ground. (A lot to expect from a language, I know). To say mi trucco, or literally ‘I trick’ instead of ‘to put on makeup’ is much more lavish, and funny that Italians refer to makeup as a trick, a distortion of natural feminine beauty. Buonanotte sounds more musical than a simple goodnight, and sogni d’oro, dream of gold, is quite possibly the most romantic thing I have ever heard. Who doesn’t want golden dreams?
Sono innamorato con questa lingua, e voglio imparare l’italiano piu e piu.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuscania
At the beginning of last semester my advisor recommended that we write a letter to ourselves saying our first thoughts and feelings about Florence. We then gave the letters to her and she returned them at the end of the semester so we could see how we grew and if we met our expectations. This semester I’m doing it again:
Dear Tara,
I- you- arrived yesterday. Even though I had a 4am flight and even though I waited at the airport for 5 hours for the provided transportation to take me from Rome to Tuscania and even though it’s freezing cold… I love it. Tuscania is beautiful. The kind of town you could get lost in, in many senses of the word. It’s so small yet so maze-like within the ancient city walls that one wrong turn could take you 20 mins from where you are trying to go (and that could be the best 20 minutes you’ve ever spent). But it’s also the kind of place you could get lost from the world in. It would be easy to come here and never leave. But I’m glad I am. I’m glad that in one month I’ll be packing my bags again and heading off to Rome. Nothing excites me more than the thought of how amazing this semester is going to be, how different each city will be and how much I’m going to learn. I am already excited for the next chapter. I’m worried this will go too quickly. I will admit I’m guilty of living with my head in the future. I’m already sad about the end of this adventure that has only just begun. I can’t help but miss certain people and wish I could share this beautiful place with them. I’m frustrated by technicalities that are ruining my excitement about being here. But though my mind is plagued by these worries I refuse to take a minute of my time here for granted. I hope that Tuscania will be the true Italian experience I’ve been seeking. I hope that no one will speak to me in English and that I will make friends with local people. I’m hoping I will get lost here, everyday, but I hope that after one month I’ll be able to find my way around with a blindfold and without a word of English. I’m looking forward to the complete opposite in Rome. I want the big city feel with the Italian touch, I want the history mixed in with the nightlife, I want the freedom… and the fast internet. And Venice, no words can describe how excited I am for Venice.
As for now, I am lucky enough (again) to have roommates I can see myself being good friends with very soon. I’m lucky enough to be able to get by with the little Italian I know thus far. I’m lucky enough to love what I’m studying. I’m lucky.
Dear Tara,
I- you- arrived yesterday. Even though I had a 4am flight and even though I waited at the airport for 5 hours for the provided transportation to take me from Rome to Tuscania and even though it’s freezing cold… I love it. Tuscania is beautiful. The kind of town you could get lost in, in many senses of the word. It’s so small yet so maze-like within the ancient city walls that one wrong turn could take you 20 mins from where you are trying to go (and that could be the best 20 minutes you’ve ever spent). But it’s also the kind of place you could get lost from the world in. It would be easy to come here and never leave. But I’m glad I am. I’m glad that in one month I’ll be packing my bags again and heading off to Rome. Nothing excites me more than the thought of how amazing this semester is going to be, how different each city will be and how much I’m going to learn. I am already excited for the next chapter. I’m worried this will go too quickly. I will admit I’m guilty of living with my head in the future. I’m already sad about the end of this adventure that has only just begun. I can’t help but miss certain people and wish I could share this beautiful place with them. I’m frustrated by technicalities that are ruining my excitement about being here. But though my mind is plagued by these worries I refuse to take a minute of my time here for granted. I hope that Tuscania will be the true Italian experience I’ve been seeking. I hope that no one will speak to me in English and that I will make friends with local people. I’m hoping I will get lost here, everyday, but I hope that after one month I’ll be able to find my way around with a blindfold and without a word of English. I’m looking forward to the complete opposite in Rome. I want the big city feel with the Italian touch, I want the history mixed in with the nightlife, I want the freedom… and the fast internet. And Venice, no words can describe how excited I am for Venice.
As for now, I am lucky enough (again) to have roommates I can see myself being good friends with very soon. I’m lucky enough to be able to get by with the little Italian I know thus far. I’m lucky enough to love what I’m studying. I’m lucky.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Thoughts on a stormy day
It’s a stormy day today. I slept late and woke up to the sound of the wind chimes outside my bedroom window. The wind had caught them and agitated them and they were calling out for help. As I went outside to relieve the wind chimes from their unwanted energy one of the large plants on my balcony caught the wind as well and blew right over. It’s lying on the floor now, resting on its side like me in my bed.
It’s a stormy day today. I just tried to write a poem and all that came out was
‘the storm clouds in my head have crawled into the sky,
now the world and I can see eye to eye’.
I can’t seem to turn my thoughts off. I often think too much.
It’s a stormy day today. I’ve found that recently I haven’t been writing anything I find worthwhile. I wrote one poem I like last week, and six that I don’t. I started a blog post yesterday but never finished it. I can’t condense my stormy thoughts to coherent rhythmic words on a page. This is the best I can do.
It’s a stormy day today and I’m worried. I’m worried that the rain will dampen the clothes I’ve put out to dry. I’m worried the sky will stay so dark I’ll need to turn on the lights before the sun even sets. I’m worried I don’t know what to pack. I’m worried about going back to Italy (mostly excited, but worried too.) I’m worried about my future.
It’s a stormy day today, but it may not be tomorrow. I have no way of knowing if it will be stormy tomorrow; either in my head or in the skies. I can only hope for sunshine. I need to learn that I can’t control the future. I can make decisions- hopefully the right decisions- that will determine certain things. But I can’t know what will happen before it happens. I can’t know what to do before I do it. I can’t hop in a time machine and turn the dial to five months from now or five years from now and prove to myself that everything will be ok. Maybe it won’t, maybe nothing will be ok. Maybe nothing will be as I expect. But maybe, just maybe it will. Maybe my dreams will come true and my worries will prove to be pointless. Maybe five months from now I will be the happiest I have ever been. I can only hope for sunshine.
It’s a stormy day today. I just tried to write a poem and all that came out was
‘the storm clouds in my head have crawled into the sky,
now the world and I can see eye to eye’.
I can’t seem to turn my thoughts off. I often think too much.
It’s a stormy day today. I’ve found that recently I haven’t been writing anything I find worthwhile. I wrote one poem I like last week, and six that I don’t. I started a blog post yesterday but never finished it. I can’t condense my stormy thoughts to coherent rhythmic words on a page. This is the best I can do.
It’s a stormy day today and I’m worried. I’m worried that the rain will dampen the clothes I’ve put out to dry. I’m worried the sky will stay so dark I’ll need to turn on the lights before the sun even sets. I’m worried I don’t know what to pack. I’m worried about going back to Italy (mostly excited, but worried too.) I’m worried about my future.
It’s a stormy day today, but it may not be tomorrow. I have no way of knowing if it will be stormy tomorrow; either in my head or in the skies. I can only hope for sunshine. I need to learn that I can’t control the future. I can make decisions- hopefully the right decisions- that will determine certain things. But I can’t know what will happen before it happens. I can’t know what to do before I do it. I can’t hop in a time machine and turn the dial to five months from now or five years from now and prove to myself that everything will be ok. Maybe it won’t, maybe nothing will be ok. Maybe nothing will be as I expect. But maybe, just maybe it will. Maybe my dreams will come true and my worries will prove to be pointless. Maybe five months from now I will be the happiest I have ever been. I can only hope for sunshine.
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