Instituto Italiano

There must be at least fifteen different language immersion schools in Florence and I know because I researched each one when I decided I wanted to come to Italy. I had the hardest time wagering which would be the best and deciding which one to attend. After countless thoughtful hours and with help from my dad and sister, I decided on Instituto Italiano. It turned out to be a pretty good choice, but by now I feel as though all my pensive agony was a bit silly; my hours probably would have been better spent learning the exchange rate between dollars and euros or taking lessons on effective packing techniques. At my basic level, I think any of the schools would have given me a good foundation. The school is a friendly, small institution that offers language immersion courses for students hoping to learn Italian or who already know some and want to improve their skills. The school itself sits on the top floor of an apartment building about three doors down from one of Florence’s most famous architectural marvels: the Duomo. We were introduced to the view of the magnificent church the first day we arrived in class and were graced by its presence peeking through the window each subsequent day.

Not to mention it had the perfect stairs at its entrance for sitting and eating lunch on the few days it was sunny enough to do so.

This will have been my second time studying language in a classroom. I am becoming increasingly fascinated by the interconnectedness of languages and how ideas and concepts are translated across them. The language school is full of students coming from all over the world, so unlike my Spanish classes in high school, the teacher spoke almost entirely in Italian. I found it to be more effective for learning the language but also felt bad for the students that had a harder time understanding it right off the bat. My background in Spanish has been very helpful for understanding Italian because many words are similar if not the same. On the other hand, my knowledge of Spanish has made it difficult to speak Italian because my brain has a hard time differentiating between the two languages. I heard many conversations in school between students as well as teachers discussing the difficulty of learning Italian. I could not begin to make a judgment on its complexity because I have nothing against which to compare. I would imagine learning Japanese would be far more difficult but perhaps there is something even more difficult than that. Being spoken to in a language that I do not fully understand really emphasizes the importance of body language and hand expressions (something that Italians use rather often). When travelling, you must master the “I-don’t-understand-anything-you-are-saying-but-really-wish-I-could” facial expression along with a really first-rate index finger point. Unfortunately, I am not quite as adventurous with my Italian speaking skills as my American friend Brigitte who is not bothered at all by approaching someone and saying (translated from Italian), “Where I go I eat Gelato a lot?” They pretty much always understand what she is saying though, so I am really the one who is missing out.

I have not only been paying close attention to my Spanish and Italian skills, but to my English as well. I have had to speak almost exclusively to people for whom English is their second (or sometimes third) language. I honor my position as grammar/pronunciation corrector but consequently, I find myself speaking as if English was my second language also, occasionally omitting prepositions and putting adjectives after nouns. My Mexican friend, Indira, has been reliable in pointing out the little things I say unconsciously such as, “and also” (in a high pitched voice that she enjoys imitating), and “though” randomly at the end of sentences (i.e. “I will be okay, though” or “We won’t make it there in time, though”). I have had to switch my focus from utilizing a more complex vocabulary for describing situations or feelings to searching my vocabulary for the most simplistic descriptions in order to be easily understood. I have felt disappointed at times by the decline in my English skills but have rather enjoyed the change in perspective. I am now very conscious of little catch-phrases or expressions I use that I did not think much about previously. I have also become aware of the importance of tone of voice and pronunciation, especially after learning that the difference between dad (papá) and pope (papa) is only determined by an emphasis on the last syllable.

I am so impressed with the people that speak three or more languages, especially when they can speak them well. A couple of my friends spoke about the moments when they began thinking in a new language. I can only imagine knowing another language well enough that I could feel content thinking to myself in that language. I will get there one day…and I do intend on getting there. I look forward to the day that Italian switches from being just combinations of sounds that I have to contemplate and translate in my head to actually sounding like intelligible communication. It is interesting to listen to the teacher swap between English and Italian because she goes from sounding confident and articulate to sounding frankly a bit silly. I realized that I have often, without thinking about it, considered not-so-good English speakers to be somewhat less intelligent, but I see that there is a lot that is lost in translation when you are not fluent. The nervous laughing and hand flailing one must engage in when trying to convey messages without using words is all too familiar and ridiculous until you are forced to engage in the acts yourself. You put yourself in a vulnerable position when you make the effort to communicate to someone that does not speak your language but the only real mistake you can make is not doing so. I know that I will now be a great deal more helpful and welcoming to non-English speakers in my neck of the woods. I do not think I ever wasn’t per say, but now I have walked a mile in their shoes; actually, I have walked many miles in their shoes.


Ciao!
j