Notes From My First Time In Italy

September, 2015

How To Make An Art Historian Weep

1. Potato, Potahto…

In Rome, a group of us piling into a taxi to go to the Pantheon.

Julie: Buonasera, Signor! Ci andiamo al Parthenon, piacere (we are going to the Parthenon, please).

Driver: Quell’e’ lontano da qui. (That’s a long way from here)

Michael (my spouse): We can’t afford that.

Julie: I mean, the Pantheon! THE PANTHEON!

vs.

2. Dictation

In Firenze, walking around the Duomo and looking at the fake statue of David amidst all the other male statuary:

Michael: It’s really just a Plaza of Dicks, isn’t it?

3. Claptrap

Walking by one of the rare churches in Italy as the campanile (bell tower) starts to strike the hour.

Michael: For whom is that bell tolling?

Julie: It is tolling for thee.

Pause.

Michael: I’m not supposed to ask, am I?

Conversations Over Breakfast

(Le Conversazioni alla colazione)

I have been putting the online Italian lessons to work. The conversations I’m having are, however, likely not exactly what I think they are. The beautiful Tuscan agriturismo

at which we are staying provides breakfast. Breakfast is overseen by the very nice but unsmiling Signora Marcella, who also prepares our cappuccinos and talks with us in Italian. As the “Italian speaker” of the couple, I am to take the lead. So, this morning Signora Marcella and I talked about what we (my husband and I) would like to take back to Canada from this agriturismo, where we are going next, etc.

I need to note that the weakest part of communication in any language is, for me, listening and hearing. My husband knows French, Hebrew, Dutch and some Spanish, but his ear is incredible: he can identify spoken languages from around the globe and he usually ends up translating for me, Italy being no exception.

The conversation probably went something like this, if translated accurately:

Signora Marcella: Did you sleep well? 

Julie:  Yes (lying, as ever re: getting quality sleep), thank you, I slept very well. 

SM:  Did you take a pill again?

J:  No, I slept well without a pill.

SM:  Do you find it quiet for sleep on the agriturismo?

J:  I’d like to bring back olive oil. And wine. Unfortunately, it will be very expensive to mail things to Canada.

SM: Oh, it is very expensive? 

J: Can you repeat that please? 

SM: (muttering to herself…I don’t have time for this)…..I asked you if it is expensive.

J: Yes, it is very expensive. 

SM:  is it difficult to find excellent olive oil where you live?

J:  Venezia. It will be my first time visiting there. 

SM: Ah, Venezia, it is so beautiful. What will you do there?

J:  Three days. 

SM: (bending down to pet the cat that just sauntered in):  Can I get you another coffee?

J:  He is a beautiful cat. I like cats. 

SM:  Are you usually such a sad fuckwit?

J: Thank you very much for a delicious breakfast! Ciao! Have a Good Day!

SM (long pause, possibly with subtle, mournful undertones):  See you tomorrow. Buongiorno.

J: Pardon? oh yes, we are from Canada…but we like Italy very much.