03.04.10
Talking in Code
It was just under five years ago that we moved to Italy. Five years in, we feel pretty good about our grasp of the Italian language. We rarely find ourselves in situations where we can’t at least follow the conversation. Our funny accent still makes the Italians look at us funny when we talk, but we get the point across. I preach about half the sermons on Sundays (and the church is very gracious about it!). Overall, we do OK.
And then something happens that makes me realize we have a long way to go: dialect.
I took the boys to get their hair cut yesterday (both got a faux-hawk). The guy that cuts their hair is from Naples. I can tell he’s not from Ancona from his accent, but I’m still not to the point where I can pinpoint where a person is from just from hearing them. At a certain point, the kids started asking him to say things in his dialect. We laughed as he repeated everyday words into something that wasn’t even close to the standard Italian that we learned. It sounded more Arab than Italian.
And then his friend came in – another person from Naples. He turned to us and said, “You want to hear some dialect? Watch this.” And then they spoke a language that was completely foreign to us. Sometimes a syllable or two would sound familiar. Every now and then a word would stick out. But if you asked any of us to translate, we would have come up blank.
It’s funny, because it seems like Italians have a love/hate relationship with dialect. On one hand, it’s seen as something that the elderly or uneducated speak. Many say that it sounds bad. But the second they meet someone from their hometown, dialect becomes their secret code language. Even the little noises we make to fill space in conversation (ummm, uhhh, etc.) are different. And in a very real way, in the back of their minds as they speak dialect with a paesano, it’s like they are thinking, “Finally, someone who understand me!”
David Knapp said,
03.04.10 at 10:43 am
I know what you mean. I grew up in Oklahoma but have family in Arkansas. When we would travel over there my dads dialect would change. I had a hard time understanding what he was saying. In fact I had no id what he was saying.
Translations:
id = idea.
I-O-Way = Iowa
barbelly = bacon
There are many others I could share.
Melanie Robinson said,
03.04.10 at 1:10 pm
I just listened to the last CD from Johnny Cash before his death. It was full of that southern dialect that is at the heart of who I am. It was awesome. I just love it when I meet someone who knows what a “pukin” is and I don’t have to correct myself and say pumpkin.