It was our first time taking the bus to class today. Stepping out into this Florentine neighborhood will take a while to get used to; it is so beautiful every time. Kari and I got on the bus and validated our tickets with ease. The very next stop, however, we were greeted by a stern, old Italian man who scolded us in Italian and motioned us to stand up. We looked at one another, then stood, confused because there were many open seats around us (in the front and in the back). The woman sitting across the aisle from us also stood up and the old man took her seat. She looked at him with an indescribably strange expression on her face (a mix between skeptical, annoyed and curious), then sat down in the open seat directly across from him. Kari and I stayed standing, unsure of why we were reprimanded in the first place but assuming it would be better just to obey. The old man then looked at me and told me to “sittare!”—sit down, with a synonymous gesture. I looked at him, then Kari, then back at him and shrugged while slightly shaking my head. “It’s ok,” I said quietly, grimacing at his insistence. When we finally made it to our Stazione and up the five flights of stairs to class, I asked Stefano the meaning of this interaction. “He is pazzo! Crazy!” Stefano replied. I shrugged and put it out of my mind.
But our seemingly untranslatable was not over yet. Un’amica di Daniella (a friend of my host-mother) joined us for dinner because Daniella e Andrea had to travel to the north of Italy for an appointment. I do believe that was the most I have ever perspired during a mealtime—not because I was frightened but because she did not speak a word of English. We made it through about fifteen minutes of dinner (all of the pesto pasta and half of the best eggplant parmesan I’ve ever had in my life) before I retrieved my Italian/English dictionary to look up “to tell.” From that point on, we struggled for about five seconds before I flipped desperately through the pages to find about what I wanted to say. It helped that there were two of us and each of us learning from a different teacher, but we both still only had three days of Italian lessons under our belts. Phew! We were all laughing by the end of it, so it was all in good fun.
But for now, I must study! Arrivederchi, belli.
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