Oh those pesky Italian "c's" and "g's"

After a summer vacation in Tuscany, now back home in El Paso, Texas, I wonder what memories will stay with me? First would be the Italian landscapes that are even more praiseworthy than their depictions in travel books.

View from our villa, Le Due Volpe

The Italian people are friendly and helpful.  And they appear to truly enjoy life, something I forget to do from time to time.

Charming Italian guide leading wine tasting

But my first steps attempting to communicate in the Italian language may be my most long-lasting memory.  A note of caution:  if anyone tells you that everyone in Italy speaks English, do not believe them.  We did find a few people in the hospitality field who very kindly spoke English to us, but for the most part, our communication was done using sign language.  Two notable exceptions were our hosts at the villa, Cinzia and Aldo, who were always ready for a chat in English. In addition, I had  been assured before leaving the U.S. that I could get by in Italy using Spanish.  Wrong, again.  I'm sure there are Italians who speak Spanish, but I failed to locate them.

I had been studying Italian using DuoLingo, my favorite online free language learning program, for about six months in preparation for our Italian adventure. I was encouraged because I could read in Italian fairly well because it is similar to Spanish in its written form.  And the grammar wasn't too daunting.

But, oh the pronunciation of those Italian "c's" and "g's" proved to be the death of me!  I even wrote a blog post, "Just enough Italian pronunciation," several months prior to the trip pointing out rules for changes in "c's" and "g's'  before "i's" and "e's."  I soon discovered that knowing the rule is not the same as being able to apply the rule. (How many times have I preached that to my former language students?) As other travel memories fade, what I may remember about Italy is being gently corrected by smiling Italians when I continually mispronounced  "c's" and "g's."

My first language lesson was in Tirano, Italy, where we stayed several nights after riding the Bernina Express train through the Swiss Alps. The bright red cherries at an outdoor fruit stand looked luscious.  Unfortunately, the Italian word for cherries is ciliegie. The "c" before the "i" makes a "ch" sound.  Everyone knows how to say ciao, right?

And the "g" before the "i" makes a sound like the first and last sounds in "judge."  Now try putting those two rules to work on a busy Italian street with a vendor waiting for you to make a purchasing decision.  He patiently corrected my pronunciation and put the cherries on the scale.

My next Italian language lesson came during a lunch meal at a restaurant in Borgo San Lorenzo. I had been missing an iced drink in the hot, humid Italian weather, so I was inspired to order a soda with ice.  The Italian word for ice is "ghiaccio."  Oh no, more "c's and "g's"!  This time the "g" was followed by an "h" which changed its pronunciation back to a hard "g" (like "go").  And the "ci" still kept the "ch" sound, but not before you pronounced another hard "c" (like "cat") before it.  The waiter gave me a big grin and pronounced "ghiaccio" three times until I got it right.  Mamma mia!

Can you see the ice and lemon in my coke?

At least I got some occasional comic relief in the language category.  The same waiter described above was naming meats offered on the luncheon menu and proudly announced that they had "cinghiale"  (wild boar meat).That word in Italian, correctly pronounced, sounds very close to a Spanish curse word (always good for a snicker).  My husband, Wayne, and I exchanged startled looks.

Italy was an unforgettable experience—one of our best trips we have decided.  But my goals before I visit Italy again are to conquer the elusive sound variations of "c"and "g" and to learn to ask correctly and politely for ice in my drink and maybe even a vegetarian menu!