You know what puts me in a good mood? Italian people. From Lake Como to Palermo, they are a nation of shrinkers (i.e., delightful individuals whom Sweet Pickles wishes he could shrink and carry around in his pocket to pull them out whenever I need a pick-me-up)!
Of all the incoming international students we tested yesterday and today, the sole Italian was all that it took to turn the whole experience from drudgery into a pleasure. My colleagues and I were working in pairs to interview over 70 language-learners in order to assess their proficiency levels. Mostly, it's a torturous business, but my partner and I had the random good fortune to land this Sicilian.
All the faculty and staff ate lunch together today, and were debriefing each other on the morning's events. N-Lope observed, "Y'all were in there a really long time with him!" That's because the two 'warm-up'/practice questions (What is the weather like today? What are your plans for the rest of the day?) turned into an actual conversation, and he was impossible to stop without being rude. I especially remember his weather response: "Is very very hot! Too much! How can I say... the skin, she is wet, all the time!"
I asked my lunching counterparts if any of them had ever watched an Italian in one of these speaking-testing interviews. They were like, "Watched??? We've only been listening. What is there to look at?" A LOT. The gestures, the body movements, the facial expressions. This guy actually got up out of his chair twice during the interview.
During the 'warm-up'/practice questions before the test officially began, he was devastated to learn that I am an art historian who has never been to Italy. "Is not possible. You must come now, because you have a friend!" [We had just met 5 minutes ago.] Once the test got under way, I don't think he really ever cared that he was being evaluated... he was just really excited to meet my colleague and me, and wanted to chat.
On one question in the test, students must cancel an appointment with an imaginary friend by pretending to call the friend to apologize and explain their situation. The Sicilian, with his hand to his ear mimicking a telephone, calls me by name: "Sweet Pickles, I cannot go walk with you in the park today. Enrique call me. His girlfriend, she break with him. He so sad now. I must go to him. But tomorrow... tomorrow we can. Is okay?" And he's waiting for me to respond. In all the thousands of times I have ever asked this question, no student has ever asked me to become directly involved in his or her answer. Equally unique, no student has ever used romantic troubles in their invented excuses for this question.
After the 25 minutes we spent together in that classroom (the testing interview normally takes about 10 minutes), he hugged and kissed my colleague and me on his way out.
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