Language

Since I was a wee bairn, I have been fascinated by language. I was one of those nerdy kids who actually enjoyed learning about grammar. I became an unashamed grammar cop, a skill I learned from my mother who learned it from her father. Now, my dear daughters are both grammar cops--fourth generation ones at that. I love the subtle nuances of interesting words and the poetic phrases that tickle the ear. I also am a collector of words and nothing is quite like finding a new one to love.

I fell in love with language early in life. My first grade teacher pulled a small group of us together to teach us Spanish. I can still picture the books we used, and I can still speak every word my teacher taught us. (Juan, soy Juan. Maria, soy Maria.) My memory of this is so vivid I can even remember a little yellow dress I was wearing when we once had our lesson. I have long regretted not learning Latin as it is the basis for so many languages. The Spanish I took in high school did not stick with me as well as I would have liked but whenever I hear someone speaking Spanish I can understand a little of what is being said. When I began to travel to Europe, I quickly learned that it is far easier to read a language than to speak it. In most countries I can understand enough on signs to find wine, food, bathrooms, and mass transportation. I had one hilarious experience in Italy because my traveling companion and I could not speak Italian, but I'll save that story for another time. After I returned from Italy the last time, I decided once and for all to learn to speak Italian because it is so mellifluous. I bought tapes, but the instructor on the tapes went so fast, I quickly gave up.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, last Saturday at my first water aerobics class I met Camilla (Cameela is how she pronounces it), not be confused with the British rottweiler of the same name. For many, many years Camilla taught foreign languages in private schools. Today I asked her a few basic questions about Italian and she was happy to help me. First, I wanted to know, how does one correctly pronounce bruschetta? I was happy to learn that I have been pronouncing it right all along--"brusketta". I then asked about a local restaurant that most people pronounce at A ta vo' la stressing the third syllable. I have always said A ta' vola, which, I am pleased to report is correct. Camilla explained some basic things about Italian which made sense to me. As an example, when I asked about Il Divo she was happy to help me figure out a bit about plurals. My specific question was this: "Is Il Divo the masculine form of la diva?" She said that it is, so I next asked if Il Divo is singular or plural. (I had assumed that it would be singular.) She said that it is indeed singular, but that in the case of the quartet it refers to one group rather than one man. Our conversation drifted to the bad English grammar one hears routinely--"I'm doing good" or "the food is healthy". There is a fundamental lack of understanding in this country about the differences between adjectives and adverbs. While one might argue that language evolves, I would have to point out that it also can devolve. Call me a curmudgeon! I would consider it an honor. After all, curmudgeon is a lovely word.

Tomorrow Camilla and I are meeting for lunch. I look forward to the furthering of a budding friendship. She is so knowledgeable about so many things and is one of the loveliest people I have met in a long time. Camilla is interesting, something too many people are not.