I’m taking Italian—and man, it’s hard!

My Australian/Italian family

At the ripe old age of 27, I’ve decided it’s time to embrace my heritage—my Italian heritage, that is. After an eye-opening trip to visit my Italian family in Melbourne last year, I realized how much a part that culture is in their every day lives, and I desperately want that. In fact, while we were there last Christmas, another of my grandfather’s sisters who still lives in Italy called. It would have been amazing to have been able to actually speak with her—but alas, she spoke no English, and my Italian was limited to ciao and grazie. Not very scintillating conversation.

Now I know—I will probably never, ever be able to speak fluent Italian (actually, according to my (adorable) Italian grandmother, if I don’t speak it every day I’ll just end up forgetting everything I learn anyway. Thanks nonna.) But I’m undeterred. It’s something I threw on my bucket list years ago, and so when the Groupon landed in my inbox offering five lessons for a pretty good price, I took the bait.

Yes, I know—five lessons isn’t much. I’ll probably end up signing on for more at the end of these five weeks. But last night was my first two-hour session at the Rennert school (which just happens to be conveniently located across the street from my work. Seriously, it was meant to be), and it was pretty intense, but exciting. With only six students in the class (all girls, very interesting), I really feel like I could learn a lot in 10 hours. Luca, our teacher, seems to have the patience of a saint, so that’s always helpful as well.

I’m off to Brooklyn to dog sit again this weekend, which I always enjoy, and I’ve brought along my Italian homework as well. I’ll keep you updated as to my progress, and maybe (just maybe!) I’ll have an Italian-written post some time in my near future (it’s always good to shoot for the stars).

Bis bald my friends (and arrivedercci!)