All languages
have magic words, polite expressions that open doors and enable communication
even for the stranger in a foreign land. Before visiting Italy, I had planned
to learn a bit of the mother tongue, and naturally I started only when the
anticipated trip was suddenly just weeks away. We purchased a book or two,
listened to the melodic language on line and optimistically posted a collection
of word stickers around the house: numbers and greetings on il frigorifero,
labels on la porta and in il bagno. We ambushed each other with
common greetings at the end of a long work day, stealing a glance at il frigorifero before replying with
the appropriate response: “Buona sera,
comesta? Va bené…grazie. Mi chiamo Doris. Ciao! Now let me cook dinner
already!”.
So, did this work,
you may ask? Yes and no.
Understanding
a few rules of pronunciation helped prevent total mangling and
misunderstanding. Some of these we use
in English without thinking twice: for example “z” is pronounced “tz”, as in
(duh) Pizza! Some were familiar to us because they sound the same in
Hawaiian: “i” is always pronounced “ee” (Pizza/Hawaii); and “e” is often
pronounced like the “a” in “may” (as in café
and Likelike). Others were new and
confounding: “C” is often pronounced “ch”
(as in the greeting ciao) and “ch” may
sound like a hard “c” (as in the wine Chianti). Still others required re-training from previously
learned romance languages. I speak a
smattering of long-ago-learned French; another woman on our group taught
Spanish. This might help one learn
Italian better if one truly studied the language, but given our ignorance of
Italy’s mother tongue, we found confusion was more often the rule.
For example, one of our destinations was Cinque Terra, 5 charming cliffside-hugging
towns on the Ligurian Sea. Because the word
for number 5 looks similar in French
(cinq) and Italian (cinque), for close to a year I was telling folks that we
would visit “Sank-Tara”. The Italian pronunciation
of cinque turned out to be far
different, more like “cheenk-way”, except way cooler. At any rate, once I adjusted, this became one
of those words I love to say.
I attempted
to memorize a couple conversation starters, only to realize, once on the
ground, the limits of opening a discussion one cannot continue. In the US, I
will often strike up a short interaction in public with a mother by asking the
age of her child, so I learned the informal phrase: Quanti anni? Trouble was the
first mom I encountered – on a train traveling in Cinque Terra - was carrying an infant, which I knew the moment these words came out of my mouth. After a beat, she tolerantly replied that her
daughter was 9 months old. I replied “Ah, bellissima!” (very beautiful) and
all was well. This is not a culture where parents fear malevolent spirits will come
to take children if you complement them.
So, no, we
did not learn enough for an actual conversation with a native speaker. Much of communication,
however, is non-verbal; so the use of indigenous greetings, gratitude, humility
and humor proved truly invaluable, as it has anywhere we have lived or traveled.
Now bear in mind that we were on a tour and did not need to ask directions or the
location of essential services under duress as the solo traveler often finds
necessary. Still, no one will give you
the time of day if you do not at least make an attempt to follow the most basic
of cultural etiquette.
Thus, below are
Doris’ “top 10” magic words and phrases, followed by stories and adventures
that arose around these cultural door openers. The translation and
pronunciation guide is totally invented and unofficial, simply how words sounded
to my untrained ear. I apologize in advance for any and all errors in language,
spelling or syntax. For the real stuff, consult guide books, watch Italian
movies, google and listen on line to
native speakers of this melodious language. No shame! Be
sure to give them a try, starting in the safety of your kitchen…and then, on
the streets of Rome. As our tour guide advised us – do not hesitate to
pronounce Italian words with enthusiasm,
hitting the ac’cented syllables, rolling the rrrr’s, and of course gesturing
effusively.
Magic Words
Buongiorno: (bone-jor’-no)
Good morning,
good day, hello. Buona sera: good evening
Ciao (chow) Hello, goodbye. Informal but widely acceptable.
Grazie: (grah’-tzee-eh) Thank you. It took me a while to hear it, but there is a slight third
syllable at the end of this ubiquitous word.
Per favore: (pair-fah-vor’-ray) Please. Due caffé, per favoré - 2 espressos,
please.
Permesso: (pair-mes’-so)
May I…? May I sit here? May I pass?
Prego: (prrray’-go) You’re welcome; Of course, sit down;
After you, go ahead, pass on by.
Mi scusi: (mee
skoo’-zee) Excuse
me - to get attention. Mi scusi, dove il bagno? - Excuse me,
where is the bathroom?
Mi dispiace: (mee
dis-piah’-chay) Forgive
me, I’m sorry. Mi dispiace, non parlo
I’Italiano - I’m so sorry, I don’t speak your beautiful language, I meant
to learn before I came, but I was so busy earning the money for this trip...
É tutto:
(ay-two’-toe) That’s all.
Il conto; (eel-cone’-toe)
The check, the bill. ll
conto, per favoré: The check, please.
Café: place to sit, eat, drink and watch the
world go by
Caffé: Espresso. Caffé Americano: Coffee
Io sono da Hawaii (ee-yoh sono dah…) I am from Hawaii. Ci sono da Hawaii (Chee’-sono dah…) We are from Hawaii.
Piazza: (pee-ah’-tza) Town Square.
Googlelalo: (google-lah-low) Internet
googling; slang, possibly regional, hearsay from Siennese airplane seatmate.
Magic Word Adventures
Greetings:
Buongiorno, Ciao: Greetings are fun, useful, essential social
lubricants. Don’t be afraid to use them with
new friends and strangers. For example, when
entering a store or other commercial establishment, be sure to greet the owner
or employee (Buongiorno! Ciao! Buona sera!).
If you do not, and wait for them to say
something, they will probably politely completely ignore you, respecting your
privacy….unless they spot you as an American ignorant of etiquette. Once you greet them they will immediately
reply in kind and be prepared to help you.
Permesso and Prego: I loved trying out these useful words
while traveling in Italy. It was indeed
magic, like throwing off my Harry Potter invisibility cloak. If we needed to pass by people on a crowded
street or platform, the sea parted after I said “Permesso”, and someone usually
replied “Prego!”, standing aside and motioning for us to pass. I was surprised to find that if we got on a
crowded train or bus, pointed to an empty seat and asked a nearby person
“Permesso?”, they would suddenly look me in the eye and say “Prego! Prego!”, gesturing
emphatically, as though I would insult them should I not sit down.
Mi dispiace: Forgive me, I’m sorry. Useful if you break something or keep an
entire bus load of people waiting: See blog post Sei (#6)- Life Imitates Art
É tutto:
What to say when the waiter keeps asking what else you want to order,
and you have already ordered enough food for a family of 8. The traditional Italian meal has many
courses, and is eaten late at night over many hours. I doubt, however, Italians eat this way every
night, and we surely could not - from a gastronomic or economic standpoint. “E tutto” seemed to be both polite and
effective. Rick Steves recommends this phrase in his guidebook.
Il conto, per favoré: This is another restaurant term and
cultural etiquette gem from Rick Steves.
Given the leisurely pace of dining in Italy, it would be considered rude
for the waiter to bring your bill before it was specifically requested. An uninitiated American might be sitting
impatiently waiting for the bill and thinking the waiter inattentive or rude,
when in fact it may be quite the opposite. At any rate, the bill comes quickly
once one utters this little phrase.
Cafés and Caffé: I was in heaven in Italy’s café culture. Sit at a table on a quiet back street or a
bustling piazza, order coffee, watch the world pass by and practice il dolce far niente – the sweetness of
doing nothing. In addition to cafés and
restaurants, every little Tabacchi, or mom-&-pop corner store, has a small but
good espresso bar - along with stamps, bus tickets, personal care items, and
yes, tobacco. It took us the better part
of our Italian vacation to learn the basic rituals for ordering coffee. If you
sit at a table in a café or restaurant, you will pay twice the price of coffee
at the stand-up bar, but the table is yours all day if you wish. Tabacchi coffee is excellent and only one or
two euro but if you sit down at a small table, no one will come take your
order. When you do order, do not ask for a venti skinny
latte with soy. It’s ok to order cappuccino
in the morning, but totally uncool after the noon hour, as Italians firmly
believe milk consumption interferes with digestion of food. Most of the time, Peter
and I ordered 2 espressos: tiny white
cups holding potent shots of dark molten caffeine. Even when we used the
correct words most Italians assumed we had no idea what we had just ordered. At
each stand up coffee bar, we would sidle up to la cassa (the cash register) euros in hand and say “Due caffé, per
favore”. The cassa man or lady, spocking us out immediately despite our
impeccable pronunciation, would query “Espressi? Americani?” (translation:
isn’t what you really want two American coffees?) to which we would reply definitively
“Si, espressi”. After paying, we then
walked a few feet over to the stand-up coffee bar, handing the receipt to a barista,
who might query us again to be sure we would not be a waste of good
espresso. They ignored our often
inappropriate hand gestures (Italians signal the number 2 not with the index
and middle finger as Americans do, but by holding up the thumb and index
finger, as though pointing an imaginary gun skyward. Yes, we had heard this, but
the body learns slowly, especially when low on caffeine). After completing this stressful caffé ritual
one might be tempted to relax and sip the brew, but no - the one and only thing
consumed quickly in Italy, coffee bar caffé is downed in one or two swigs, the
drinker moving on within minutes to leave space for the next patron. 
Piazza: Sounding similar to pizza, a piazza
is a feast for the eyes and ears. Much is lost in translation. “Town square” hardly
captures the essence of these centers of city and small town life, deeply
historic as well as lively contemporary gathering places for commercial and social
life. Almost always composed of stone, piazzi are rarely planted with trees,
grass or landscaping of any sort, yet
are venues colorful with people, merchandise, and often great art and ancient
architecture. My absolute favorite: Piazza
dela Signorini in Firenze, aka
Florence.
Ci sono da Hawaii (We are from Hawaii) This phrase usually
required multiple repetitions because the Italian and Hawaiian pronunciation of
Hawaii are way different. Once comprende, this was sure to elicit oooos
and ahhs and exclamations in whatever English the speaker possessed, such
as “Hawaii is like a dream to us“ (See
blog post Quatro).
Dare alla luce (Dah-ray ah-lah luu-chay) To give birth;
literally, to give to the light. This was the first Italian phrase I learned and
admittedly, the least practical - unless one plans to live Italy or be a
traveling doctor/nurse. I did eye a few pregnant women and consider trying it
out, deciding discretion is the better part of valor when it comes to women’s
bellies.
Il dolce far niente (Eel dole-chay fahr nee-yen-tay) The sweetness of doing nothing. A distinctly un-American and quintessentially Italian phrase (See Café and Caffé above).
Googlelalo On the short flight from Zurich to Florence, Peter and I were not seated together and as a result had separate but equally enchanting conversations with Italians returning home. It was my seatmate, a young woman from Sienna, who told me Italians like to adopt and adapt English words. In contrast to the French who will use 10 words to describe something rather than admit a foreign nom into the club, she reported that Italians find it fun to Italianize terms, to make them their own. “You know what we say when we want to look for something on the Internet? Googlelalo, she giggled.
Travel guru Rick
Steves describes Italy as one of the friendliest European countries towards
Americans, adding that locals are more appreciative of visitor attempts to
speak their language than elsewhere in Europe. So, what have you got to lose
from trying? Bigots and sour pusses can be found anywhere. At best you end up with a serendipitous cultural
adventure; at worst, you get a blank stare or rudeness in return. Should such
be the case, you can simply console yourself with a glass of vino rosso, a plate of warm pasta cingale or some cool gelato limoni as you sit
at a café, stroll through a bustling piazza, and feast your senses upon the
sights and sounds of bella Italia.
