An Evening out with the girls

Last night I went out with four of my Italian girlfriends to celebrate my birthday. Usually our group is quite large, consisting of about fifteen native Italian woman...and me, the only American. When we go out, only Italian is spoken. I was initially invited to join the group, upon the request of my friend Roberta. After having assessed my Italian language skills, I guess she decided that I wouldn't be completely overwhelmed by the fast paced conversation that runs the gambit from children and daily pet peeves to finding the best airline fare back to Italy for the holidays. We all began meeting about two years ago to celebrate La festa della Donna. In Italy, women's day is celebrated on March 8th and women are given yellow mimosa flowers and are encouraged to go out and have a good time. The day commemorates the 1908 tragedy in New York, in which factory workers, the majority of which were Italian imigrants, died in a factory fire, due to the fact that the doors had been barracaded by the owner, because the woman were striking due to poor working conditions.

After our initial outing, this group of ladies had such a good time together we decided to make it a monthly event to celebrate whos-ever birthday it might be. It is a great excuse to socialize, get away from the kids for a brief moment and recharge our batteries. Normally our group enters a restaurant and overwhelms it. This month, however, due to spring break, travel plans and previous engagements our group was very small. Because of this, I chose a smaller more intimate restaurant in Fremont for our dinner out. Pearl's Cafe from the outside doesn't appear all that fancy or exciting. It is a small house that has been converted into a restaurant and is situated in a rustic part of town. Inside, however, one experiences the best dining experience that Fremont has to offer, in an eclectic and informal setting. I brought a bottle of wine from Chateau St. Jean (our favorite vineyard in Sonoma) to share, and the four of us, Roberta, Gaia, Vania and myself settled into a four-hour dinner. We feasted on salads made with pears and sweetened walnuts, ravioli stuffed with dungeonous crab, plates of scallops and polenta and bois-a-bas. For dessert we selected tiramasu, lemon creme brule with lemon, lavendar cookies on the side, butter cake with thick chocolate sauce and bananas foster. We each took turns sampling each others dinners and desserts. My dessert arrived with a candle and "happy birthday Melissa" written in chocolate around the rim of the plate.

One of the things we discussed last night, is a common concern amongst my Italian friends. As much as they try to teach their children Italian, raise them as Italians and try to stay connected to Italy, the children themselves consider themselves to be American. Their children are different from them and do not share the same heritage as they would had they been born and raised in Italy like their parents. They worry that even though their children are learning the Italian language that they are speaking it using English idioms or "Italiafying" English words when they can't remember the correct word in Italian. I cringe when I hear this, realizing that the mistakes their children are making are the very same mistakes that I sometimes make. The women themselves are assimulating to the ways of Americans and when they return to Italy they laugh with disparity that other Italians notice the American "accent" in their voices. They are mistaken for American tourists even when they are speaking their native tongue! When I hear things like this, I realize I am never going to nail the accent and I will always sound like an English person trying to speak the Italian language! Roberta worries that the Italy she relates to is the Italy that she left eight years ago, an Italy that really doesn't exist anymore...times move on and things change and it is hard to hold onto the intangible when you are miles away from the country in which you were raised.

I returned home around mid-night, elated and exhausted from the exertion of speaking and striving to understand a foreign language. I am both delighted and critical of my performance, however. On the one hand, I am amazed at myself that I can follow the thread of the conversation and add my two cents and comment upon the current topic. On the other hand, I am slightly depressed at how difficult it still is at times, to find the correct words, the correct tense, conjugate the verb and still manage to say something timely and intelligent! Sometimes the words come just fine, and other times I feel like giving myself a little slap on the forhead, when I realize that I should have said it in a different way. I am completely self-conscious and anxious to make a good impression and not make mistakes. In Italian they use the expression "fare una bella figura"...loosely translated it means "to make a good impression". I try to "fare una bella figura" and not completely embarrass myself, but that just can't be helped sometimes, and I must resign myself to it! I realize everytime I go out with this group, that speaking is a completely different animal all-together from writing, where I have a the advantage of being able to review and self correct. I listen to my friends bantering back and forth across the table and I am completely envious. While I am competent, I am still a long way away from having the language ooze out of my pores and flow with complete ease off my tongue! Still, I am grateful that my friends want me to participate. I always come away from one of our events with a new appreciation for the language and a new perspective of what it is like to be an Italian living in the United States.