When I saw the crowd gathered in front of the building I suspected that I was in the right place. Had it been in England, there would have been a nice straight queue (that’s a line in American English), but this was Italy and queuing isn’t a concept that has caught on here. Just to verify that I was in the right place, I summoned up my best Italian and asked a kind looking lady. She was very nice and smiled when I apologised for my Italian. It was one of those smiles that I know well; I have seen lots of them in France. I never know if they originate from my grammatical errors or from my charming delivery. I choose to believe the latter.
The doors opened, there was a surge and somehow we all got in. I looked for a sign showing me where to go, but saw none. I went to a counter to ask and yes, this was the right place and I should go in the direction of the “queue”. By this time there actually was a queue because the Italians had already made their way to the front, had their papers and were waving their hands around explaining their situations, leaving just us foreigners standing in a nice straight queue.
I had come to the “Agenzia delle Entrate” to get my “numero di codice fiscale” (basically a number needed to do any kind of financial agreement in Italy). I needed this to complete the contract on my apartment and I knew it would be a good test of my Italian skills.
When I arrived at the desk to receive my form, “Signor” explained it to me in Italian and I understood. I have to admit that it was a very simple form, but hey, I understood. I filled it out, another man checked it and we chatted a bit in Italian. Okay, he did most of the chatting, but I threw in a few “si”s and “oh, è vero”s. Then I went to a desk where a very nice “Signora” typed in the information and asked me a few questions in Italian and I answered in Italian. All in all, it was a relatively painless experience, pleasant even, because everyone was very nice and I was able to understand and communicate in Italian.
I was encouraged by this small success and the next day in class I noticed that I felt more relaxed and comfortable with the language even though I still made lots of mistakes. In language learning there are always highs and lows: times you think you have it mastered and times when you think you will never get it. It is important to celebrate the small victories. Hmmm…Maybe I should go to the “Agenzia delle Entrate” once a week just for a little boost of self-confidence.
2 weeks down and all is well.
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Margo your courage and spirit of adventure is inspiring!
Thanks for the kind words, Jay. It is always fun to try new things and push our limits. It keeps life interesting.
Two weeks(?) of Italian lessons? I must have your teacher’s name. You must be way smarter than me. 🙂
Well, i have to admit that I had studied a bit on my own before going to the class and during my “interview” I said very little. Because French and Italian are so similar, I could understand a lot and follow directions. Still, it was a little triumph. 🙂