L’Idea (The Idea)


The French class never happened. 

In those first few days of Italian 101, I fell head over heels with this new language.  I loved the musicality of it, how it rolled off your tongue.  I loved that the first rule of the Italian language is “make it sound beautiful” – and how they continuously broke their own “lesser” grammatical rules in order to obey that higher rule. And I particularly loved how everything you said sounded romantic.  Everything.

Through the language, I began to learn the culture, the people, the food.  Everyday there was something new, something amazing.   At the end of the semester there was no real thought.  I had to continue.  There was no real choice, because this was something that I desperately wanted to master.

It was during that second semester that my fate was sealed.

There I was, sitting in my required “weekly hour conversation” with an advanced Italian student, soaking up his knowledge and experience with the country I was just beginning to discover, when it came out of my mouth.  Accompanied, no doubt, with a pathetically wistful sigh.

“I wish I could go to Italy.”

My partner looked at me with his devastatingly handsome eyes (Ok, I admit it.  The weekly conversations were much more pleasant considering I had a huge crush on my partner) and asked, quite simply, “Why don’t you?”

That was easy. While I was fortunate to have some scholarships and a part-time job to get me through my academic adventures, I was still a poor college student.  And though I didn’t have a lot of travel experience (and had never been out of the country), I was smart enough to know that it cost money.  Money that I did not have to spare.  At least not if I wanted to eat for the rest of the semester.

Again, those eyes.  And those simple questions.

“So, why don’t you get a job?”

Wait, what?  Get a job?  In Italy?  You can DO that?

I laughed it off in the moment.  Sure, can you imagine?  Me.  Getting a job.  In Italy. It seemed utterly ridiculous.  I mean, how could I possibly do such a thing?  Where would I even begin?  And yet, the idea had latched into my brain, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. A plan started to form. Suddenly, what had once seemed ridiculous began to look like a real possibility.

Why don’t I get a job?


About ciaobellamiastory

What do you do with that magical moment when everything makes sense - when all the random choices, experiences and encounters come together, and you find that rare instant of clairty? Then what do you do when it all falls apart? About 12 years ago I decided to take an Italian 101 course. That seemingly random choice has forever altered the path of my life. My strange connection with the language, culture and people of Italy started with love and joy and culminated with unexpected loss, grief and despair. While previously I was content to follow this unpredictable path, today I seek to understand the reasons and lessons behind my journey. My journey towards understanding begins here.
This entry was posted in 2000, Choices, Italian Class, Job and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to L’Idea (The Idea)

  1. My thoughts exactly, namely, I just had to speak and understand such a beautiful language. How nice to hear that someone else has been touched in the same way that I was…and still am!

  2. JWB says:

    I would love to see Italy; all in time, all in time…. You’re fortunate, and thank you for sharing your insight and experiences.

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