On the train and around town

We headed off for Genova at the weekend and we had quite an interesting train journey. Sitting opposite, as remarked upon by my three year old, were no less than three English speakers. I sat quietly and listened in on their conversation. It turned out that the three people were a couple of Californians now residing in Tuscany and a South African setting off back to Durban by cruise ship from La Spezia. The Americans were an interesting couple. He was a retired TV script writer who had worked on the US versions of English TV comedies including Step Toe and son, if you remember that one. (Even I only just remember it) His wife was an ex (I think) sculptor and had inspired the creation of a book called ‘The Reluctant Tuscan’, which was about the guy’s, Phil Doran, attempts to get to grips with life here in sunny Italy. He did not speak much Italian, but was trying to learn the lingo and his wife Nancy, had already got quite a good handle on Italian, despite not being as young as she once was. Oh, and the writer, who has already sold a few books, by the way, said that a certain Mr and Mrs Travolta (Yes, those Travolta’s – no Saturday night fever please) had taken out an option on Phil’s book. The other guy, the South African, chatted about Black Americans and the problems in South Africa, but did not seem to dislike Black people too much, just to go against the stereotype and even brought up the subject of Indians in the US, or Native Americans, as they now seem to be called. Fair enough, they are.

I chipped in once I heard them commenting on the greyness of the weather in the UK and how several Englishmen and women had come to Italy to escape from the overcast English climate. ‘I’m one of those English people who has escaped from the climate’ I mentioned, smiling and then we all got chatting about this and that. It was good to hear from other people both living here and on holiday and I enjoyed speaking English too. I don’t often get the opportunity to chat away in English, although last week I was rather spoilt. Indeed, on Thursday evening I was invited to have dinner with the senior management team of a well known marketing company, for whom my brother happens to work.

We ate well and I had a good old chinwag with the English, French, Italian, German, American and Belgian (I think) members of the team. Nice bunch of people, I have to say. I even did the old tourist guide thing and took most of them up Via Torino to the Duomo and the Galleria and on towards La Scala. This was appreciated and we rounded off the evening with a quick pint in the Victoria Bar which I used to hang out in on Friday evenings after work, before becoming a dad.

I’m on my own this evening seeing as my other half and child are still down in Genova and have yet to decide what I’m going to do with myself. I could go and rent a video or go to a book launch which I’ve been invited to. I’ll probably go for the video in view of the fact that I’m a bit full of cold and I don’t want the cold becoming flu. Yes, I know I’m wimping out a bit, but I’m not as young as I used to be, say ‘e reaching for his zimmer stick. Then again, maybe I will head off for the book launch, which sounds quite interesting. All in the name of networking, you see.

Oh the life of a high powered English teacher. Not sure ‘high powered’ and ‘English teacher’ sit too well together, bit of a contradiction in terms, possibly……

Chocolate pasta

I forgot to mention that at the Paolo Sarpi street fair we picked up a bag of ‘cocoa’ flavoured pasta.  It’s brown, as you would expect and is real pasta, not just chocolate dressed up to look like pasta.

We have not tried it yet, but apparently it goes very will with ’salsa di noci’, which I believe is walnut sauce. 

I’ll let you know what choccy pasta is like, once I know.  Very odd though, is it not?

The mind of a three year old

My little one asked me, in Italian, why I don’t speak to him in Italian.  I replied that it was because I am English and that it is important and useful for him to know another language.  He seemed to accept this, but his progress with English is not promising, not to me, at least.  I guess that is down to his living here and being surrounded by all things Italian.  He is now insisting on seeing all films in Italian, not in English, which is a problem because it means that his exposure to English will be limited to the words he hears from little old me.  Not that I don’t speak to him, it’s just that with him being at school and me being at work, our paths do not cross that often.

Our little joy has been super grumpy recently too.  If I insist on putting a DVD in English he throws on almighty tantrum and all hell lets loose.  I generally give in, just to avoid his balling and to avoid him ending up hating my language,  my other half also believes that by insisting, he will end up hating English, so she does not insist either.  This means that Marty will not receive enough stimulus and thus will not learn English.  This is a worry in some respects, because, from my own experience, I know that knowing another language can be interesting and useful.  Anyway, Marty seems to be getting more and more grumpy and flies of the handle at the most silly of things.  I hope it is just his age and the change of school and not some sign of illness.  He used to be such as happy little chap, but does seem to have changed.  Maybe he is becoming more aware of his environment and this ‘discovery’ is forming or changing his character.  Maybe.

To change the subject a little, our wee one told me, in Italian, that a monster, ‘il piu grande di tutta le volte’ was going to get me.  Now, if you know Italian, you will know that ‘volta’ means ‘time’ – in the sense of ‘once I went to New York’.  However, it does not mean time in the sense of ‘the biggest monster of all time’, in this case the correct Italian is ‘tempi’ (’times’), which is not interchangeable with ‘volta’.  In English ‘time’ or ‘times’ have two senses, but the words are the same.  If you are still with me, I doubt it (!), you may be wondering why our little one made this mistake.  Was it because he is just learning? Or was it because he is confusing English and Italian?  I think it was the latter, because I understood exactly what my son wanted to say, whereas my wife did not. 

Next Page »