Grappling With The Language

In two respects Sardinia is very similar to Wales. Firstly, in terms of size the land mass of the island is very similar to that of Wales. Secondly, like Wales it has its own language, Sardo (or Sardu), which a substantial percentage of the population can speak, probably a similar percentage to the number of Welsh people who can speak Welsh. And just as all Welsh people can speak English, likewise all Sardinians speak Italian. With Sardinia being part of Italy, the official language of the island is Italian. And according to Maria Rita, and others I've spoken to, Sardinians speak very good Italian.

Nevertheless, for me personally, two years of quite intense study of Italian, with special emphasis on speaking the language (although in terms of grammatical study I've gone as far as the present and imperfect subjunctive), hasn't brought me to a point where I find it especially easy to understand everyday spoken Italian. My brain is so accustomed to thinking and speaking in English that I only have to mishear one word in a comparatively simple sentence that the whole meaning is completely lost to me. For example, yesterday I heard 'pacco' (parcel) as 'parco' (park) and with a puzzled look I was thinking "what's she on about? My park's arrived?!" Yes, it can be quite comical sometimes. I created great hilarity a few days ago when I confused the word for chest (petto) with the word for penis (pene) while trying to say in Italian that I had a chesty cough. And yet, people say to me 'parli bene l'Italiano' (you speak Italian well). As they say this I'm thinking to myself "don't be ridiculous!" When I explain that I have a bit of difficulty in understanding everything that's spoken to me I am told " well, that's normal, it takes about a year to get your ear completely accustomed to the sound of language." There have been times when I've been out for dinner and the conversation has almost completely passed me by. However, on other occasions when people have been speaking directly to me I've been able to understand almost as well as if they were speaking English. For example, when Gianfranco, Maria Rita's brother-in-law, spoke to me of his admiration for the films of Alan Parker and also when her brother Raimondo was talking to me about the legistic problems presented by the arrival in Italy of illegal immigrants without any documents.

It's certainly evident that the Italians have a very different attitude towards foreigners making efforts to speak their language from that of the English. We English are so used to foreigners who speak English well that we are incredibly intolerant of those who are still coming to terms with mastering the language and, unless we've made a serious study of a foreign language ourselves, we have absolutely no appreciation of how much work and effort is involved. The Italians by contrast, safe in the knowledge that their language isn't so widely spoken the whole world over, are flattered that someone with another mother tongue should wish to learn their language.

In England we often speak about our "schoolboy French" and it's interesting to discover that here in Nuoro most people's knowledge of English is at about the same level. It should be a huge advantage in helping my efforts to improve my Italian. In fact, the only two people here that I've met who speak English reasonably fluently are Maria Rita herself, who studied English at Cagliari University, and her niece Sarah who spent several months in England in her student days.