Language of My Heart and Soul

Language of My Heart and Soul

“E quando poi davanti a te si apriranno tante strade e non saprai quale prendere, non imboccarne una a caso, ma siediti e aspetta. Respira con la profondità fiduciosa con cui hai respirato il giorno in cui sei venuta al mondo, senza farti distrarre da nulla, aspetta e aspetta ancora. Stai ferma, in silenzio, e ascolta il tuo cuore. Quando poi ti parla, alzati e và dove lui ti porta. ”  

The woman is speaking fast in Spanish, and I manage to understand a few words and sentences here and there, even reply, however, still not able to grasp the whole meaning of the conversation, since it is very important to me, and the vocabulary seems to be rather for an advanced speaker. “Where is the interpreter?” I manage to say. And then I hear “You have Masters in Modern Languages” said in Spanish. At this point I do not know whether to laugh or cry… How do I fight and respond to Ignorance?

I was about ten (?), going home after my first class of Belarusian language, walking by flowers saying “kvetki”, “kvetki” meaning “flowers” in English, very content about starting to learn my native language. While Belarusian never became my first language and the language I speak in my everyday life, I do admire and respect those rather few Belarusians who actually do.

A year later or so I started to learn English, and about the first time I traveled to Italy. The travels that changed my life completely. I fell absolutely in love with this sunny and smiley country, its immense culture, gorgeous and colorful nature and melodic language. The place where every word seemed like Music and Poetry, and life itself seemed like Art. The place that truly felt like Home.

 

I started learning Italian on my own. A few pieces of paper with the most common words and expressions I managed to learn before my first trip, without ever hearing it from a native speaker (except, probably, a few Italian songs I overheard somewhere). And my first trips to Italy made it very evident and clear to me. This was it.

My Language. My Heart and Soul.

So no wonder how much I rebelled when I was assigned to a French group at the University, and naturally I did everything in my power and even beyond in order to be reassigned to where I felt I truly belonged. With my knowledge of “Je m’appelle Nadin. Je sues de Minsk”, it felt like my heart and soul were flying as I was almost running on my way to my first Italian class, even more content to be able to say “Ciao. Mi chiamo Nadia”.

And so it began.

 

All opinions and experiences are, as always, my own.

Liberty. Peace. Love. Bliss…

Nadia

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