You Are What You Eat


Last time, I promised a story from when I lived in Bologna...

One evening, a few months after arriving, I left work early and headed to my first Italian class. I was wondering why I had been deemed ‘intermediate level’ and if I merited it: although, I have to admit that I had been enthusiastic to have conversations from the day I arrived, and had seen the fruits of my labour from some related languages, but I still wondered if it would be enough to sustain an intermediate level conversation.

 

On arriving at the historic building in the centre of the city, I had to navigate medieval corridors and narrow flights of winding stairs in order to arrive at the classroom, so, in the confusion, arrived a few minutes late and quietly joined my classmates. I had expected to be having fun conversations with them, but the teacher was a very serious chap, dressed in a brown woollen jumper and a jacket with patches on the elbows. In a sombre tone, he discussed in Italian the differences between the musical traditions of Florence and Rome in the 16th century. Everyone was taking notes and looking very serious too, so I decided to join in and write down some extracts from his discourse. I was quite shocked as he paused intermittently to illustrate his points by playing extracts of organ music typical of the period. After an hour of listening and note taking (but no fun conversation) he announced that he would see us the following week. However, I inquired further as I had understood that the class was to be two hours long. This was the first time I saw him laugh, as he realised what had happened:  “Stai cercando la classe di Italiano: รจ dall’altra parte del corridoio!” (You’re looking for the Italian class: it’s across the corridor!)

 

Mortified that I was now one hour late, I made the dubious decision of joining the correct class. The new teacher found the situation utterly hilarious and insisted that I give a five-minute speech in Italian on what I had learnt in the previous class! 

 

Of course, I was able to use my new nugget of information in social circles afterwards, as I could work the conversation around to discussing the differences in the musical traditions between Florence and Rome in the 16th century. However, after sounding very impressive, I would always admit how I had encountered this information!

 

However, on one occasion it backfired! We were heading to a conference, with all the professors and post-doctoral researchers sitting in a row on the plane. With most of them in on my scam, I decided to impress one of the very knowledgeable professors. After delivering my well-rehearsed sentences, the professor looked back at me inquisitively and said: “I thought that would have been more 17th century?” To this day, I am amazed that he didn’t connect the chuckles behind him to my shocked face!

 

All in all, after just one hour in the cultural class, I had started to think about the relevant topics; after some weeks in the correct Italian class, I had a greater appreciation of the language; and, more generally, whatever class we attend or whatever we spend our time doing, influences us. The Bible has “so many good verses” as a student at Paul’s Pizza once exclaimed! As we spend time reading its words, we are influenced, encouraged and challenged: our hearts are changed. In church this weekend, we considered the excitement of the people when they rediscovered the Bible under the reign of the young King Josiah. I believe that this is our challenge today, to rediscover the delights of its words, to cherish them and to put everything we learn into practice in our lives.

 

“But He answered and said, ‘It is written, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.”’”

Matthew 4:4 







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