I recently returned to the U.S. after my second stay at a language school in Italy. It is an experience I would recommend to anyone my age (65) who is of good health and possesses a spirit of adventure. It is my intention to continue making periodic trips to Europe centered on stays of three or four weeks in a school of language located where there is easy access to the great museums, concert halls, and other cultural attractions that draw people to Europe. The advantages of basing oneself at a good school, as opposed to taking a canned tour or simply going it alone, are many.
I’ve been studying Italian for a year and a half. At home I attend a language course for adults sponsored by our state’s department of commerce and tourism. It is a very relaxed learning environment and progress often seems painfully slow. Last fall I tried a month in a language school in Florence which markets itself mostly to young people. I was placed in an intermediate class for a standard four-hour per day regimen of grammar and conversation. Although I enjoyed it tremendously and learned a great deal of grammar, I found I had little in common with the other students in the class. I was in fact three times the age of the next oldest student and twice that of the teacher. Whereas I was interested in art history, classical music (especially Italian opera), and the history of Italy, the course seemed to revolve around fashion, shopping, food, and pop music.
My second experience was much more positive. The school’s management was kind enough to overlook my deficiencies in grammar and vocabulary and place me with the advanced class. My fellow students were adults from various backgrounds and with a wide range of interests, but all like me curious to learn new things and share their experiences: an interior designer from Russia, a businessman from Brazil, an organist from Switzerland, a teacher from Turkey. We had wonderful conversations, even if the Italian wasn’t perfect. We found that language is not an obstacle to communication, but rather the essential means of understanding each other.
I give the teachers in the school (Centro Lingua Italiana Calvino) great credit for helping us through the difficulties of communicating, and also for pushing us to a greater appreciation of the rewards that await us if we persevere in our studies. We read a bit of Lampedusa’s Il Gattopardo in class, an author then unknown to me. I found the story so interesting and the prose so beautiful that I reread the entire novel on returning home, first in English, then in Italian. We read a few chapters of Pinocchio, one of the best children’s stories ever written. During my final week we tried a couple of cantos of La Divina Commedia, surely impossible for us to fully appreciate, but thrilling nonetheless. The class spent an hour or two dissecting Illica’s libretto for Andreas Chenier, then listened to Gigli sing bits of it. (What better way to come to appreciate the passato remoto). I read my own short story to the rest of the class, noted their criticisms, and listened to their compositions. The organist and I compiled a small dictionary of music terminology in Italian, German, French, and English. On the whole, class was both challenging and exhilarating.
Both schools offered lectures on the treasures of the Uffizi, Bargello, and the Palazzo Pitti, some of them on site. Most afternoons my fellow students and I made excursions, sometimes to a nearby church or museum, sometimes by bus into the hills around the city, sometimes by train to Arezzo, Siena, or Pisa. On weekends we took longer trips to Verona, Mantova, Ravenna, Urbino, Napoli, and Paestum. We attended operas and concerts together and had many meals in the trattorias. In sum, it was the type of experience one could never have had otherwise.
How about living arrangements? One of the major advantages of enrolling in a school is that one is provided with a wide choice of apartments, family homes, or long-term hotels in which to stay. My first stay at school in Florence was on very short notice, so I took an apartment on my own. It overlooked the Arno and was wonderful in every way except price; less for a month than for a week in a hotel, but more than I might have wished. It was also a bit lonely.
On my second stay I was fortunate enough to share quarters with another student, a woman my age whom I had met in Florence the previous fall. The fact that we were of opposite gender presented no obstacles. As parents and grandparents we respected each others privacy and, given our ages, we gave no scandal to anyone. It was a perfect arrangement. We shared the annoying tasks of everyday life anywhere; shopping, cooking, washing clothes, and cleaning. We helped each other with homework, went site-seeing together, and generally provided each other affection, companionship, and safety. Going out alone into the city at night can be daunting for a more mature man or woman, but two persons together are very unlikely to be assaulted. We felt safe even when returning from the opera on foot through the city at midnight. Having each other to share the wonderful experiences we were having made the time go by all too quickly.
We definitely intend to do it again. Before returning, I’m working to improve my Italian conversation skills and taking a summer course in modern European history. I believe that for me the best plan is to spend part of each spring and fall at a school in Europe, then return home to digest and reflect on what I’ve seen and learned while planning and preparing for the next trip. It’s clear to me that whether at home in Tennessee or abroad I must practice reading, writing, and speaking my newly-acquired language daily, or I quickly forget much of what I have learned. It takes a real effort not to fall back on one’s native language every time one gets stuck trying to express oneself in the new language. Having a tutor to push me has been very helpful.
Actually living in a foreign country is a much better way to come to understand it than merely visiting as a tourist. Trying to communicate, however imperfectly, with its people in their language, rather than counting on them to speak yours, opens vistas which are closed to most casual tourists. One feels a great sense of satisfaction as one’s command of the language grows over time. For the senior who is curious and likes to challenge him or herself, going to school in a foreign country is the type of experience that can make life seem more worth living.
John Logan, Tennessee
Primo giorno oggi in classe. Molto confuso e difficile. Insegnanti Daniel e Marco per gruppi lezioni, e per mie lezioni private, Leonardo Amato. “Leonard who loves” is sort of the meaning of his name! He is the director of education and writes the workbooks each student is given AFTER taking a little placement test first thing this morning. Leonardo is like a combination of an Italian big brother and a teddy bear, and has the brightest smile, a smile that engages his entire face.
Daniele is young and adorable in a geeky sort of way, who sings exuberantly off-key and seems completely unaware that his basket has NO tune to it! Marco looks like a wiry playwright/director, with the greatest eyes! Even the non-gorgeous men in this school are adorable. Italian eye-candy, delivering the brain-fry created by spending SIX HOURS a day trying to read, write, talk and think in italiano, But eye-candy isn’t enough to keep this old woman in any place but la scuola lingua italiano mindset. And one thing is clear . . . I WILL learn Italian and learn it as well as I can in the next two weeks. The friendly atmosphere, the buzz among the new students mixed with the more seasoned ones, does not undermine the serious intention of everyone who makes CLIC run efficiently. We, the students, will get the complete and undivided attention of our instructions, as well as every person who works behind the scenes, to make sure we have an experience that is more than worth our tuition.
So . . .
The school is actually wonderful without a hint of being extravagant. On the 5th floor of an old building (what buildings in Florence are not old?), the administrative “office” is right out where all the students can access any of the directors who are in the building. Massimo, Leonardo (see above), Sven, and Gabriele, as well as a black-haired woman Mina . . . and there they all are, available constantly for any of us. There is a little student lounge, right in front of the admin-area, and an outside deck with tables with a lovely view over the Firenze rooftops, for quickly eating lunches, since there is almost no time to do anything but take a breath-and-bathroom break between classes.
At 62 years of age, I thought I might feel out of sync here, but there are students of all ages, from late teens to early seventies, and their varied personalities and nationalities allow a wide range of conversation and connection, if that’s what you want. And if you want a solitary experience outside the classroom, to wander the streets of this fascinating city, no one will interrupt your solo reverie.
Today during my lunch break, I was approached by a tall woman slightly younger than I. She introduced herself as Marja, from Holland, and she is an oft-returning student at CLIC. We talked for a bit and she asked whether I’d like to go somewhere after class this afternoon to have a glass of wine. I was delighted and consented readily. This became our afternoon ritual for the first week of class, after which she returned to Holland and I prepared for my second week here. Despite the short term of our residency here, we knew we had become fast friends.
9/27/07
School . . . only one more day, and I can’t believe it’s going to be over. I think I can negotiate in this language MUCH better now than I did before, but really I feel like I’m just getting started. I must figure out a way to do some of this work again at home, to keep up with what I’ve learned here.
At the end of the first week of classes, I had a heady exuberance about the things I had learned. I went to Lucca for the weekend, staying at a new bed and breakfast owned by a woman referred to me by my new friend Marja. As I wandered the lovely streets of Lucca, I felt pretty confident in my communication, meager as it was. But Monday, I came back to school and felt completely brain-dead. Cerebramente-morto, I thought, but Leonardo said, no, the correct phrase is “sono di coma!” And that’s how I felt Tuesday as well, but now I’ve returned to being comfortable with the Italian words in my mouth again. I just know I have to keep it up, and return next year, with teachers who are as good and diverse as these.
Marja has suggested that we come back together to the school. That would be a great birthday present for myself! I wonder if I really COULD do that. Oh oh, here I go again, wishing, and then manifesting my wish . . .
At any rate, tomorrow is my last day, and I bought some baklava for everyone at the school (maybe), thanks to Marco’s advice about where to find a little Greek restaurant. Leonardo hasn’t ever heard of baklava, and I don’t think Marco has either, so they’ll get to taste some, and I did cut up tiny bites for the others . . . Massimo, Sven, the Apple fan (Paul), Daniele, and Gabriele. Leonardo’s conversation started all this, since we were studying about food and he didn’t know about baklava was. I will in a sense repay him for introducing me to cinnamon gelato, directing me to a little hidden gelato store in an area of Firenze with which I was not familiar.
I think of my experience at the CLIC school with fondness and longing, and will return again to study this beloved language. Thanks to all of you for making my stay a successful, memorable one.
Buona notte, Joannah
