English has served me well, but I’ve always loved Italian.
It all started four or five years ago. I don’t remember the exact moment, but I remember the thought that occurred to me: The Italians know what’s up.
I immediately went out to buy the first DVD/Book combo I could on how to speak it. While perusing the aisles at Barnes and Noble, I remember the feeling of excitement at the very prospect of learning something so new and foreign. I got an adrenaline rush right there in the store as I selected three different. They held the secrets I so wanted! They would help me join a club lived in by those whom understand the truth of life!
Language isn’t new to me. I took three years of Spanish and three years of Latin. Though, I can only read Spanish now, and I only retained how to pronounce words in Latin, the thrill never existed for me in the Spanish and Latin tomes. Spanish doesn’t roll off the tongue quite like “Volo” (Italian for Flight).
Alas, it’s been years since I watched the first lesson of that DVD. I remember “Me dispiace non pahr lo le italiano” or “I don’t know how to speak Italian”. But I’ve rekindled my dream. I’m giving myself two years to learn survival Italian.
Two years to learn a new language. Right in time for my 30th birthday. That way, when I go to Rome for my 30th, I’ll be able to roll that beautiful language off my tongue.
Until then, a few words a day… Volo – Flight. Ospedale – Hospital.