On The Language Barrier

I don’t consider myself to be a very introverted person. I spend quite a lot of time talking to people at work or school or on the subway, even. I have found over the past few years that running my mouth is one of the great joys in my life, and there is now a good body of scientific research claiming that good interactions with strangers are nearly or as important as spending time with friends and family.

I have only been in Italy a week or so, and by far the strangest adjustment is that in this country I am now a quiet person. I move silently through stores and restaurants without the ability to stop and converse with anyone other than my fellow Americans in IES Abroad.  My level of Italian vocabulary and comprehension is quite low—somewhere below conversational proficiency but somewhere above just grunting and pointing at things.  So I don’t speak so much to people I don’t know, and when I do we speak in stilted English or stilted Italian, punctuated by me waving my hands around and miming words I don’t know.

A few students who went to Italy reported back happily that everyone in Rome speaks English. I have not found this to be the case, except among young people and workers in the city center. However, most Romans I have met know a least a few English words: (to go or eat here? Do you want a bag?, etc) so the language barrier has not been a practical issue so much as one of cultural immersion.

I want very badly to speak to Romans in their own language, and I hope I am making progress. For some reason, there are two young Italian army soldiers stationed outside my apartment building. I have no clue why they are compelled to stand around next to a jeep in such a tranquil neighborhood, but I pass them every day and we greet each other. They discovered I was American and now they yell “Salve, Americano!”  whenever I pass by. Neither speak English, but they are very friendly and we converse as best we can. They are curious as to what I am doing in their city and they are eager, like many Italians, to ask what I think of Donald Trump and the state of American politics. I suppose their job is a little monotonous and my presence in the neighborhood is a welcome diversion.

One evening I was walking out to get groceries and they came marching over to ask how I had been doing:  “Come stai, Americano?” I replied “Sto 'na crema,” which literally translates to “I am like cream,” but means “I am doing great.” The expression is one of Roman dialect, which I learned from Edouardo, an Italian student who works with IES Abroad Rome. The soldiers thought it hilarious that an American would speak in Roman dialect and chuckled over this. I asked them if there was a supermercato nearby and they said they did not know, because they were only stationed in the neighborhood and did not live there.  Fortunately, they spotted two women walking down the street and called to them. They explained to the women that I was new in the neighborhood and asked if they would show me to the market. Of course, they said, we are going that way anyhow.

The younger of the women, Alessandra, lives in the building next to ours and she was walking to the pharmacy with her mother. Fortunately, Alessandra runs an import shop in New York’s Little Italy, and had been there a few times, so she speaks English very well. She has a son in college and we talked for while about Manhattan and Rome and how she wants her son to move to New York. I told her he would hardly be the first Italian to do so.

She pointed me to the market and wished me the best with my studies, and I thanked her and said I hoped I would see her around. I was happy to have met a few of my Roman neighbors, although I got completely lost at the supermarket and was mostly unable to find what I had been looking for.

I suppose Alessandra and the soldiers have sparked a little more courage in me to engage with the people of Rome, who, so far, have been very friendly and understanding of my limited language skills. It seems to go out without saying that interacting with the people of your host city is an essential part of study abroad, but I would add that it also brings an indescribable warmth and joy to the experience. I don’t think I would have had to come all the way to Rome to believe this, but I feel that now I understand it- I have felt it.

I think the moral of this long and seemingly banal anecdote is that you should make every effort to speak with strangers abroad.  If you can keep up a conversation, do so.  If you can only speak three words of Italian, say them.  Talk in English and wave your hands if you have to- Italians are appreciative of the effort and you will never regret it.

Stai ‘na crema e buona fortuna,
Chris