Once upon a time I was a star Italian student. I could carry on conversations over imaginary cigarettes in the cafeteria, and I translated Vogue Italia to those less fortunate then I. Not anymore. Having to talk with people over the phone makes me jittery, but in Italian even worse. "You English speak?" I resort to. Shame on me! Then I remembered, in the depths of my wardrobe is a notebook I used for the years I spent studying Italian. Wouldn't it be a scream to unearth it?
And a scream it was. Amongst the scratchy handwriting, pages and columns filled with sketches of women with Louise Brooks bobs and finger waves (some things never change), recipes photocopied from Martha Stewart and a gushing letter of recommendation from my Italian teacher that actually made me tear up, was proof of my proficiency.
I'm hoping that as soon as I get there I have some sort of "awakening" that has happened in times past, but I think I'll be studying this notebook before bed this week, trying to ignore the embarassing reminders of times past.
6 comments:
Daniel, if you heard my Italian you would feel so much better! xx
I think a little preparation couldn't hurt. And if you were once good at it, chances are that it will come back to you. I think languages are a little the riding the bike thing. It's always the vocab that goes first - but one you're using it on a regular basis you should be fabuloso! Envious that you could ever speak it at all - my sister is fluent!!
Oh my, by coincidence, just a couple of days ago, I came across some high school notebooks---I'm a generation older than you---and there they were, all those sketches of women with Louise Brooks bobs and finger waves----some things indeed never change..
I feel confident that you will soon regain proficiency---migod, you must be on the cusp of departure?
Christina- that's a comfort...i think?
Quintessence- I hope you're right. I'm going to be using a bike for transportation over there, something I haven't done since the Scout and Jem days, so it'll be two new/old things to get used to.
DED- Seriously?! That's so funny!! I can't believe the chalkboard held up all these years! ;) I leave in exactly week from exactly this minute!
He picka my pocketoni!
haha! Milano not Napoli!
Post a Comment