Come Si Dice...?: La Prima Cosa Bella...

...is one of my favorite Italian films. It's fairly recent, and I recommend it to everyone. I realize I sound like one of those hipster snobs telling everyone that I watch foreign films with [gasp] subtitles, it was a movie I had to watch for class. and it is really really good! I balled my eyes out.

Here is the theme song (which is PHENOM - you may or may not have heard me sing this..) with some snippets from the film - you can maybe kind of not really get the plot. I couldn't find the actual trailer with English subtitles - mi dispiace.

ps. it gets good around 1 min 25

The story centers around an Italian mother and her two children. Her mama-bear devotion to her kids is typical of the Italian family dynamic. Accordingly, I have found this to be true with my host family, which is actually just one woman. So... host woman.

My dear Italian mama, Antonietta, is a sweet, bubbly nonna (grandmother) who cannot be taller than 5 ft. Seriously, 6 flags is out of the question. Her first words to me were Che alta! Che alta! (How tall! How tall!).

She speaks very little English, and by very little, I mean none. My new favorite phrase is Penso che io capisco... Spero che io capisco! (I think I understand... I hope I understand!). She always responds with the same sweet, apologetic smile. Then she either tries to mime or we just move right along to the next subject.

And despite being around 70 years old, Antonietta is super hip. For example, she has a Facebook. We are now friends. This is actually very interesting, not only because of her generation but also because internet is uncommon in Italian households. Maybe half of my class of 30 students has internet access in their house. Anyways, Antonietta's profile picture is from her twenties - she says that she hopes that friends from her youth will recognize her and they can reconnect - I. am. melting.

Also, this morning, she made a joke about Lady Gaga. Need I say more?

When she picked me up on Tuesday, she brought her daughter, Syliva. Sylvia speaks some English which was PRIME because at this point, as regular readers will remember, I had FORGOTTEN ALL THE ITALIAN I HAD EVER KNOWN. When I asked Sylvia where she had learned such good English, she answered that she is a doppiatrice. In ~~English~~ other words, she dubs over American films. For instance, she casually mentioned that she is the Italian voice for Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.

Im sorry, WHAT? COME SI DICE "THAT IS SO COOL!"?

it gets better.

Sylvia's daughter, Antonietta's grandaughter (if anymore relatives pop up, Ill include a family tree), is also a doppiatrice. And she is the future Italian voice of.... wait for it.....

HANNAH MONTANA.

Now I'm not the biggest fan of Hannah Montana (pink zebra stripes and tweenage popstars dont really do it for me), but for this, I'll make an exception. Hopefully now, I have convinced you all that my family is way way dope.

and then they took me for gelato. Is it too early to say I love you? too much?

Anyways, more about Antonietta, since its just the two of us in the apartment.

She gets up every morning to make me breakfast. The first day, she pulled out the HUNK of BREAD about the size of a tree trunk from under a dish towel - are we on a farm? - and cut me a few slices. She then proceeded to slather on butter and honey (which appeared to have originated from a legit churn and beehive respectively). Clearly I ate it all, including the whole (HORROR) milk she heated up for me. Warm milk in the morning. w e i r d. but whatever, I am powerless against this tiny woman. If she gave me warm river water in the morning, I'd most likely pound it and ask for seconds.

She also picked a flower out of her terrace garden and put it next to my plate. Is it still too early to say I love you?

Speaking of gardens, she grows all of her own herbs on her terrace.

Excuse me? Antonietta, you are too cool.

After she lovingly pointed out and named each one for me, I told her I love to cook and want to learn how to make some Italian dishes (I mean, I think that's what I said... I hope that's what I said....) With a twinkle in her eye, she said that she, too loved to cook and would teach me.

HOLY MOSES allofmywildestdreamshavecometrue.

I would have cried if I knew enough Italian to explain that I was a cryer.

We have plans to make ravioli with spinach and ricotta together next week. Be jealous of my Italian nonna.

Last night at dinner she made this potato cake thing with prociutto and mozzarella in the center. I die. Then she took out this bowl full of water.... odd? NO AMAZING. For this bowl of water is not just a bowl of water. It is the resting place of the most delicious, fresh, succulent chunk of mozzarella I have ever put in my mouth. Vespaio (hoity Italian restaurant in Austin that constantly lauds their "real" mozzarella), EAT YOUR HEART OUT.

Here are some pictures of my room, Antonietta, and what she fed me for dinner tonight.

my room - I love the red accents - so swedish famrhouse chic - Kirsten the American Girl doll anyone? anyone?

my bed. my feet hang off the edge. whatever.

a room with a view - if anyone gets that movie reference, Im seriously impressed and I'll rbing you back some gelato. No I won't because it will melt, but I'll eat some for you, deal?