In his essay, “In Defense of European Languages,” Carnegie Mellon professor Stephen Brockmann describes Italy and its language as “beautiful, fun and sexy.” Though as an Italian-American I am certainly biased, I believe that professor Brockmann is absolutely correct in his assessment. With such eloquence and poetics, the Italian language is one of the most romantic to speak and hear.
Having studied Italian for three years in high school and one year intensively at Georgetown, I was very anxious to come to Florence to finally practice my language skills. Yet, even with four years of study under my belt, I felt a sense of unease flying off to a country that required me to speak a different language. Considering I had never spoken the language outside of the classroom, I had no idea what to expect when I arrived in Florence.
Before my plane took off from the airport in the United States, I got a little taste of what was to come during my four months abroad. As I waited to board my flight, dozens of passengers surrounded me conversing in Italian. There were times when my ears perked up to certain words and phrases that I understood, but the majority of the time I simply sat in awe admiring how wonderful the words sounded as they rolled off the Italians’ tongues.
To me, the beauty and romanticism of the Italian language can make even the simplest words and ideas sound exciting. This, however, can cause problems with someone like me who does not speak the language fluently. In my attempts to sound sophisticated and also grammatically correct, it is very easy to mispronounce a syllable or entire word and thus change the entire meaning of what was intended.
Shortly before the beginning of the semester, a family friend who often travels to Italy recounted a story warning me about the dangers of butchering the language. When she was younger, she enrolled in language classes in Italy and lived with a local family for a true cultural immersion. At dinner one evening with her hosts, she started to describe why the quality of Italian food was superior to that of American cuisine: “Il cibo Americano ha i pi preservativi.” Immediately, the dinner table erupted in laughter. While intending to say American food has more preservatives, she mistakenly said that American food has more condoms. Whoops.
This story came to memory recently when my housemate had a similar experience. In the first few weeks in Florence, she and I noticed that often when we try to talk in the native tongue, the Italians immediately recognize our American accents and thus attempt to speak to us in English. Frustrated by this, my housemate tried to explain how difficult it was to sound eloquent when interacting with the locals. Unfortunately, when pronouncing “eloquente,” our host mom’s daughter misinterpreted what she said as “delinquente,” or deliquent. This mistake validated the exact point my housemate was intending to make.
I have realized that perhaps the greatest barrier to speaking Italian eloquently is the simple fact that there is little opportunity to practice and appreciate the beauty and sexiness of the language at the Villa. Except for Italian, all of the courses in the program are taught in English. For this reason, I am glad I chose to live with a host family. Through dialogues with the family about recipes, Italian soap opera drama and everything in between, I am hopeful that by the end of the semester I will no longer have constant language anxiety about mistaking the word “condoms” for “preservatives.”
Bethany Imondi is a sophomore in the College and is currently studying abroad in Florence, Italy. She can be reached at [email protected]. Livin’ La Vita Dolce appears every other Friday in the guide.
