Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Monday, 9 June 2014
20 minutes of Italian conversation
Yesterday, I had a drink with my Italian friend (the one who is my former colleague). Tired to hear me say my usual line, she offered me to spend fifteen minutes speaking Italian. Fifteen minutes that became twenty and were among the longest twenty minutes of my life. It was a frustrating, often humiliating experience. Basically, she asked me to tell her about my weekend in Italian. The problem is that I know little verbs, and none of them in the past tense. So I blabbered, stuttered and I hated it. And I hate hating to learn something I love. I am not sure it was a very useful 20 minutes: I learn a few extra words, but cannot remember the verbs at all, those verbs that made me stutter and struggle. So I feel like I may have wasted 20 minutes. The idea of spending time exclusively learning the language was a good one, not so much the organization. Moral of the story: I need to organize a better learning discipline. And I may need a less sarcastic teacher. Although for the latter that may be my pride talking.