Italian vs english language.

I consider myself happy. Yeah, I do. A lot of nice things are happening to me here: meeting people, going to the parties, new experiences. But, mostly, I’m familiarizing with a language which put at the beginning what mine put at the end.

Let me give you some example.

If you look at the street and see a fat, young, blond, American girl, you would to say “a fat, young, blond, American girl”, according to grammar rules. In Italian you have a lot of combinations, instead: “un’americana bionda, giovane e grassa”, which is literally translated “an American girl, blond, young and fat”. Then you continue: “a blond girl, young, fat and American”, “a fat girl, American, blond and young”, and so on. That Anglosaxon notices first of all that the girl is fat, doesn’t regard politeness; it sounds more like a discipline in the way of viewing, which might responds to the beauty of the natural flux of the life, the Born, the Middle Age, the Death; spring, summer, autumn and winter, then.

In Italian, the aproach is pretty different. It responds to a sort of law of gravity: words at the beginning or at the end of a period are heavier than those in the middle. It’s also important how words are joined. Thus, if I say “an American fat girl, young and blond”, you can ascertain that the American fat girl is an healty blond girl or a naive blond girl. And in case the order was inverted, you could pleasantly discover that she’s blond and young, maybe because the blondity is a kind of habit while the youth a status.

Another peculiarity is the neutral gender of words. The most cruel is friend.

«Honey, where did you go last nigh?»

«Last night? I went out with a friend.»

«Does your friend name sound more like Barbara or Paul?»

Gender is very important in Italian. Specially in terms of friends.

«Are you jealous?»

I asked then to English and Australians more explanations about this topic and all agree that you have to look at the context, which, in few words, means that it’s not a matter who you go out with. Bitch.

The same I love you. You could love me like a sister or a friend (yet). We all agree that when you fall in love with me things changes. And if you are not clear, I’ll never, never kiss your lips.

It will happen then, in a raining afternoon, I write a message to Giuliano where I say I think I fell in love with you. But this is another story, and there’s a plenty of time before it came.