Appia Antica (The Appian Way)

One of the best things about Sam's visit was witnessing the reluctant ease with which he can speak basic Italian.  You see, Sam has now taken one year of middle-school Italian.  According to my sources, he nailed it; he got high 90s all year.  I was therefore psyched about the prospect that he'd help me navigate around town while he was here.  But not so fast.

Because of some shyness -- and because I think he is just too young to understand why it might be respectful to use Italian when conversing with others in Rome -- Sam was not that keen on showing off his facility with the language.  I pushed him a little from time-to-time, but it was with only intermittent success.  On occasion, he'd give in.  And when he did, sheeeeesh!  The guy has got skillz.

The funniest moments were during our couple of cab rides with Dario, the best taxi driver ever.  Dario was the friendliest, most outgoing, and pro-American cabbie I've ever seen in Italy.  He spoke great English and he loved Sam.  Sam, in return, felt more comfortable and therefore was willing to use his Italian.  Wow.  The two of them conversed for several minutes, and Sam was downright fluid.  The Italian rolled off of his tongue and he didn't miss a beat -- Dario was totally impressed!

Anyway, I was thinking about this yesterday when I went to meet Valentina for my first Italian lesson in over 2 weeks.  Let's just say that I struggled.  After 5.5 months, I still spent a good chunk of the lesson trying to recall the various forms of "essere," which is Italian for "to be!"  Sam is gesticulating and talking with Dario in full and grammatically proper sentences about the NYC mayoral race and the intricacies of the NSA spy program, while I'm stammering and stuttering over the following:

       "I am" = io sono
       "You are" = tu sei
       "He is" = lui e
       "She is" = lei e
       "They are" = loro sono
       "We are" = noi siamo

As I look around, however, I don't feel so bad.  Valentina had picked me up at the Testaccio metro stop (Piramide), and she drove us to Via Appia Antica.  This is the most famous of all the roads that led to ancient Rome.  It stretched from Rome all the way down to the port city of Brindisi in Puglia.  That is 350 miles!  The first things you hit when you exit Roma and start walking down the Appian Way are the catacombs -- and that's as far as I'd gone in the past.  But Valentina had better ideas.

She drove us well past the catacombs and only then did we park.  We started walking and chatting about her trip to Svizzera (Switzerland) and my past couple of weeks in Italia.  We were headed to a cafe she knew a little further down this ancient road.  It was at this point that I started struggling with "essere."  (I was still pretty good with nouns.)

But who cares?  I now know that, once you get past the catacombs, the Via Appia Antica is incredible. There are hills and green and ruins everywhere.  The road is literally ancient.  There were barely any cars.  It was 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. and the Roman sky and light are absolutely perfect at that time of day.  The cafe had a terrific coffee granite (a sorbet of sorts) with panna (cream).  I learned the words for "uncle" and "aunt" and "niece" and "nephew."  And even though I won't be able to speak with Dario with nearly the proficiency that Sam can, I might give Dario a call one day soon, offer him 50 euros, and -- just like George Clooney at the end of "Michael Clayton" -- see how far he will drive me down the Via Appia Antica.