The Graduate(s)

Well, you can breathe a sigh of releif because we managed to pass the test and we are in the Level 2 class.

You know, though, it's one thing to pass a test, it's another to have an actual conversation.

In Italian.

Without an obscene amount of gesturing and sound effects. (Will told me it sounded like I was "speaking African" to our last teacher because I kept clicking to try to explain myself)

I don't blush when ordering coffee anymore, and I can even soldier through mini-conversations. This weekend, I was able to ask a man on the train if there was another stop before Florence and understand his answer. The answer was mostly just a nod, but I felt a sense of accomplishment just the same. Then we met a 12-year-old boy and his mom on the train back to Rome and were able to chat a bit with him. I heard him tell his mother that I was doing my exercise book in Italian. Apparently he's doing similar work in English. And Spanish. Did you get the part where I said he was twelve?

Anyway, class began bright and early at 9 this morning. And wow, what a group! It is reminiscent of L'Auberge Espagnole. We met a bunch of colorful new people, including:

Pietro from Poland, who is not a priest, but whose work concerns a ministry of some sort

Zen and Nerus, a brother-sister duo from Libya

Helmut from Austria who Will and I both thought was the teacher. He works in something that sounds fascinating (or boring... I couldn't quite understand every word, but I think he did say that his wife is fluent in Italian. Or is Italian. I should study)

Marian, a Canadian girl who goes to Princeton and is studying Baroque Architecture

Lisa, a very tan college student from Albany who studies Marketing and whose parents are originally from Italy. (I think there was some talk of her father being a pig farmer. Or pig hunter. Babbo is definitely interested somehow in pork)

Cam, a Canadian from Vancouver who studies Political Science

Marcello, a brother of some ilk (perhaps a monk? No, he talks... Priest? Maybe when my Italian gets better I can find out more...) from Buenos Aires

Maria*, a Chinese girl who is studying Piano and Clarinet

Toshima, aka Sister Maria, a very giggly Japanese nun

and then another girl whose name escapes me (it starts with a G), but she is 3/4 Italian and 1/4 Pakistani, lives in Glasgow and speaks English, Spanish and decent Italian. I guess I was so taken aback by her global DNA that I missed her name. Or maybe it's that she's just a little bit of a low-talker.

We had to talk about what we eat for breakfast and what our homes are like. Everyone has coffee and a little bread or pastry (except the other American girl who said she eats bacon and eggs every morning). And everyone lives in a small apartment except for me and Will (we think everyplace here is big after cramming into an apartment in NYC) and the folks doing religious work. Each of them used either the word "Villa" or "Palazzo" and mentioned either a fountain or garden. Guess that's what you get when you're in good with God.

It seems that everyone has come to Rome to study Italian with an end goal of reading some really old documents on art or religion. Then there's me and Will. The American couple. On extended vacation. When asked why I was studying Italian, all I could think to say was "um, so I can speak for the next six months."

Va bene.


*not her real name.