A New Language

Walking along the streets of Rome, I approached a pizza place with my group of friends.

The employee asked us what we would like. I turned to my friends and asked them who would like to go first.

They all looked at each other unsure. I felt insecure and unsure of how to order since I could only understand a bit of Italian but I couldn’t actually speak it.

I ordered the number one. Everything was fine until she signaled to a side that I had never seen before. She quickly rattled something off in Italian and my mind could not figure out what she said. Impatiently, she gestured at the food and then guessed that I couldn’t understand what she was saying. She then asked “rice or potato”. I told her what I would like and, with that, I obtained my food.

Throughout this I realized two very humbling things. 1.) I was thankful that I could understand Italian since it was so similar to Spanish 2.) I was terribly uncomfortable interacting with Italians because I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.

To be quite honest, she probably won’t ever remember me. Yet, throughout this trip, I have realized just how much and, still, little I know.

It has only been a few days and I have already learned so much.

What does God have in store for me? I have no idea.

Will I like it? I have no idea.

All I know is that He wants me here.

What for? I guess I’ll soon find out.