That's it... I'm learning Italian
Adam and I recently took a marvelous month-long trip to Southeast Asia: two weeks in Hanoi, one in Chiang Mai, a half in Koh Yao Noi, and one in Bangkok (with two days in Siem Reap snuck into the middle of the last one, because I just couldn’t resist adding it in last minute). The time we spent in some of those places made it possible to really let ourselves sink into them, letting them reveal themselves slowly and in their own time, which was a real pleasure.
We are back in Italy now (Ziggy Stardust is so, so happy) and, after a week of adapting back to this timezone—I swear, either jet lag is getting harder or, gasp, I’m getting older—I’ve been reflecting on our experience.
It’s impossible to travel to a new country and not emerge a different person. Yet for me, at least, the nature of travel seems to have changed, and not just the increasing difficulty of my body adapting to new timezones and foods (and weirdly, on that note, I had no gastric issues in SE Asia, but I have had them upon returning. Hmmmmm…).
My first solo trip abroad was when I was eighteen years old. Of course, by that point I’d traveled around the world with my family, but there’s something undeniably special about your first real solo trip: no family, no friends, and in 2006, no cell phone! I spent two months in Peru, and it permanently and deeply changed me in every conceivable way.
I’ve been fortunate to spend a lot of time in the UK, where gap years are quite common. There’s a running joke there about little baby adults aged 18-22 who left their safe nests for a few months or a year: it starts with saying, in an incredibly exaggerated posh British accent, “Let me tell you about my gap year [pronounced GAHP YAHHHHHHH]” and proceeding to share all kinds of photos that, while incredibly meaningful to them, are incredibly boring to the viewer. Because transformative experiences are often boring to outsiders, by and large. A photo cannot capture what you’ve learned or how you’ve changed. But the joke pivots on the fact that one is deeply changed by such travels.
It’s been a long time since I “traveled,” in that sense of the word. I mean, yes, I’ve taken plenty of great vacations and moved to Europe, but for me the idea of “traveling” is still caught up in my youthful definition: a longer-than-a-vacation, sustained period in a foreign country where you know very few or no people and have no intention of staying long term and where you might be a bit out of your depth. I mean, naturally Adam and I daydreamed about going to live in Chiang Mai while we were there, but that’s besides the point.
What surprised me about this trip is that of course it was fantastic and interesting and yes, it did change me, but… not in the foundational way my time in Peru did. I’m sure that is a reflection of age and experience—maybe my mind and soul are simply more settled now—but what truly interested me is the biggest shift that came out of the experience.
It made me really want to learn Italian.
Now, yes, obviously I’ve been wanting to learn Italian for a long time. It’s a beautiful language, we spend a lot of time here, I’d be honoring my ancestors etc etc. But what’s really kicked me in the ass was two things:
Learning a handful of words in Thai and Vietnamese made me appreciative of just how relatively accessible Italian is. Like, for goodness’ sake, how do I have any excuse for not learning it when it’s not even a tonal language? I mean, it does have sign language, to be fair, but that feels fairly natural.
Experiencing new cultures always does two specific things for me: it makes me realize both how deeply connected humans are and how deeply fractured humans are. We are so similar and yet so different at the same time. It would take years and years to fully acclimate to any non-native culture, and I have always felt a deep thirst to understand more. I have a jumpstart on that with Italy, which makes me want to dive as deep as I can.
So, I’ve decided to implement an Italian Media Month. Any non-essential reading or viewing or listening is going to be conducted entirely in Italian— with Italian subtitles. You heard me!
Extreme? Maybe. But I’ve grown too comfortable in my life here. I speak enough to get by and my work is in English and we have great friends here. I don’t have an Italian partner to force/help me to learn.
Once again—and one of the most fundamental truisms of life, I think— it turns out that if I’m not the one to push myself, no one will.
SO LET’S DO THIS.
And hey… at least February is the shortest month. ;)
One further note: I’ve been working on another project in the background for a few months. While Utopia Italia has been and will continue to be a marvelous way for me to explore my journey diving into Italian culture, I’ve always felt the urge to create something that would be of more use to a broader audience and foster community, if possible.
Well, it’s in the works! La Coppia Utopia (which, if you speak Italian, you know is an incorrect phrase that doesn’t rhyme unless you pronounce it badly, which is kinda the joke) is a project releasing Expat Guidebooks (on marriage, friendship, careers, etc) and building an expat community on Facebook..
If you sign up for the newsletter here, you’ll receive a free mini ebook 10 Things You Can Do Right Now To Improve Your Expat Relationship, which is a companion volume to The Expat Marriage Guidebook, which will be releasing on February 14, 2023! Yay! A book!
The newsletter is free, and will include not just updates on the La Coppia Utopia project & Expat Guidebooks but other fun info and stories specifically for the expat community.
Utopia: a place where everything is perfect.
Also utopia: a place that doesn’t exist.
Aaaaand finally, here are a few snaps from our trip to SEAsia, in case you were curious :)