every day i forget everything i've ever learned

I am struggling mightily with the Italian language. Una lingua bella, certo, pero molto dificile. I so desperately want to be poised, calm, responsive, kind, polite, interesting...and I am lucky if I can get by without saying something really inappropriate, offensive, or--and this is what usually happens--just stupid.


Here's a small example, of which there are daily executions: 


me: enter cafe. calmly order a cappuccino e cornetto from the older gentleman at the register.
he tells me it costs .60 EU. I hear .70EU. He tells me again, several times, .60EU. I agree, emphatically, .70EU. I finally understand and take back my stupid .10EU.


me: stand at the counter and calmly, slowly order a cappuccino, and a cornetto cioccolato (yes, it's like a special kind of foreign torture: they make you order twice). But instead of pronouncing "cioccolato" like an Italian it somehow comes out like a mixture between spanish and a language I don't think really exists, so I have to repeat it three times and then finally resort to pointing because there reaches a point when one no longer wishes to be stared at by the regulars, goddamnit. 


me: I begin sipping my cappuccino and munching my cornetto. Then I see the barista (who I think must think I'm at least a little bit charming because he called me Bella, put some cocoa powder in my cappuccino and made a heart with the foamed milk) cut a cornetto in half and fill it with rich cream. Instead of saying "what is that called," I say the equivalent of "what's it's name?" like it's a puppy. 


barista: cornetto con panna (obviously). Would you like one? (Vuoi?). Somehow I hear him say "cornetto con panna. Where are you from?"


me: and so in response to the reasonable question "would you like one of these creations that you are clearly drooling over," I say "I'm an American." But instead of correctly identifying my gender (Sonno Americana), I manage to identify myself as American boy. Miraculously the barista accepts this answer and turns away to make a cafe negra. Although I am desperate to know what a cafe negra is, I do not ask. 


Estelle: Take me on a trip / I'd like to go somewhere. Take me to New York / I'd like to see LA. I'd really like to / com kick it with you. / You'll be my American Boy. American Boy. 

MAXXI

The MAXXI, Rome's new (and only) contemporary art museum dedicated to the 21st century, was designed by famed architect Zaha Hadid. The theme for the exhibits is "space", and the way the building is laid out does the concept justice in a way that is incomprehensible, slightly nerve-wracking and very exciting: the layout is very much like a labyrinth with no clear beginning or end. I felt like I was going to miss something every time I choose one turn over another. The building also experiments with the interior and exterior as joint experiences: there are lots of windows and slanted ramps which makes one feel as though they may be about to walk in or out of a gallery, or the building. One thing that really excites me about museums is how invested and engaged museum-goers appear when they are viewing the art. Watching Romans view art was no exception. And they looked good doing it.