Snippets and Scraplings

[Scrapling is not a word; I made it up. Isn't it a better, cuter way of saying news?]

I always thought it would be a slow process. Instead, one day a light came on and it was official; I am competent in Italian. For weeks I had to devote all my attention to understand even part of a conversation, and then suddenly one day, I realised that I understood the TV. Then I understood bus conversations. I overheard an Italian describing to his friend a particularly delicious type of cheese, and I got it all.

It has been a short but tough road, and it has been a great instructor in the art of humility and humiliation. I hope never to forget my first few steps into the BLQ airport, seeing Luca for the first time and not even being able to muster up a ciao, let alone understand when he asked how my trip had been. Today, I am proud to say that with still a little way to go, I understand other BCSP students' roommates, follow gameshows on TV, read my econ textbook, write down recipes, give directions (!), order at restaurants, converse comfortably with new people, and, this morning, fully comprehended my entire church service.

Ahhh....quasi-fluency. It's the same proud, heady sensation you get when you earn an A on a fifteen-page paper, or work off ten pounds. Marvelous. It makes it even better that it went instantaneously from understanding very little to understanding most--like failing eighth grade then going directly to college and earning straight A's. All learning experiences should be like this!

For anyone who was wondering, my first Italian words in Italy were "Piccole macchine!" (Little cars!), and I am happy to say I have graduated to full conversations, classes, et cetera. In the process, I learnt something valuable: When people say they "you know enough of (insert language) to get around" it's not always true. I may have be able to ask for a pastry, but when the barista then asks you whether you'd like it warmed or as is, and if you'd like to eat before or after you pay, and whether you'd like to stand at the bar or sit at a table because sitting down costs extra, well... I gave a lot of blank stares.

The Italians talk a great deal with their hands, more so than with inflection of their voices, so body language is key. I daresay I'll come back with all sorts of gestures ingrained into my speech, and you'll all laugh at me. I don't care because it's terribly fun and you're all missing out.

The BCSP students have also come up with some fun anglicisms:

Thanks, guys/Grazie, ragazzi = Graz' guys.

Just a bit/Solo un po' = Just a po'

I like that/Mi piace = Piace it times a million.

I want to dance/Ho voglia di ballare = Totally voglia di dance all night.

Non si fa qui, No!-No!-No! = An Italian lady said to Alex when she saw him on the street in running clothes. It means "That's not done here, no no no!" and it's now a running gag).

I can't pull them off with a straight face and just stick to one language or the other. :P I used to have a great deal of trouble switching back and forth; if too much of my day was "spent in English," I would have to concentrate harder and for longer before my Italian switched on and I could understand it at spoken speed. Now that's eroded a bit, and I switch back and forth fairly easily, although a day in all Italian always gets me fine-tuned to the subtleties of what people are saying.

This comes at an opportune time: It's spring. It's warm. Blossoms are bursting out of the tips of twigs, the birds have returned, and yesterday I ate four marshmallow Peeps. Every time I step outside, I pause and lean my head back and have a quiet happy moment at the beautiful temperature (One of the neighbours saw me do it once and gave me a funny look. Don't care). Gone are the frigid 98% humidity days of January and the soupy grey skies of February; we're in the 13-20°C range now and have blue skies nearly every day. In Piazza Maggiore today, I happily passed an hour watching couples dancing beautifully to tango music in the warm evening air. AND, today I came home to find that Adele had cleaned off my balcony and it is now sunny, open, and decorated with cactus plants. :D I suspect balcony days in the future.

Bianca and I took advantage yesterday with a wonderful stroll around the historic centre. We had just finished a dinner of "Fake Risotto alla Meghan" (rice + melted cheese + an Italian meat called speck) at Meghan's house, which lasted four hours because we talked and talked and ate strawberries and cookies. Since the night was so lovely, Bianca and I ended up walking all over, enjoying the sights and talking. We sat in a park at the very southwest corner of Bologna with the ancient brick gate silhouetted against the sunset, talked about places we'd been and would like to go. We discovered a walled-in courtyard. We admired thirty-foot doors. We gave directions twice to lost people, and window-shopped, and looked at the corner-stores selling gelato. We even had kind of a scary adventure--while we were having a happy silly moment touching the bricks of one of the medieval towers, I looked down and saw that the base of the door was littered with used syringes. Meeeeh... D: We got out of that street very quickly.

In other news, Easter break is coming up with all its drama and excitement; my Paris plans fell through and I'm now scrambling to join in with someone else (I am determined that this will be the one year I actually take a trip for spring break, since there are so many gorgeous places to go that are close). I do have Easter weekend booked for the beach (!) near Rimini with the Gallianis, since Adele's family owns a hotel on the shore. Pictures promised.

I really miss you guys.