Domanda, Domenica, Domani!

“I have a tomorrow.”

Nearly ten years ago, I repeated that statement over and over again in my Italian class, an intensive crash course I’d signed up for after deciding to spend a month in Florence.

Domanda. Domenica. Domani.

Question. Sunday. Tomorrow.

For the life of me I couldn’t get the three straight, and even years later I find myself stopping to think before I ask a Sunday.


The language “barrier,” as any beginning traveler will tell you, isn’t a “barrier” at all. It’s an invitation to a paradigm shift. Your first foreign words, when spoken and then understood, will leave you with an indescribable sensation of unity and remind you that the world is full of people, not countries.

If you’re lucky enough to have this experience in Italy, you’ll likely be received with enthusiasm akin to applause, as your waiter, merchant, or bus driver smiles and says “bene, bene!” to your mangled Italian. The folks here are really, really nice about that.

Of course, the issue Krista and I are encountering now is that Rosetta Stone teaches you how to ask if the bus is running late, but doesn’t teach you how to ask for two tripods and a lighting kit.

It also doesn’t teach you that a smile, a handshake, or a “baci” on the cheek communicates far more than a perfectly phrased “Excuse me, might I inquire about your views on local politics?”

When we arrived to meet the Parco Nazionale staff in 2008, I don’t remember a thing about what was said specifically – I’d have to consult my notes for that. But seared in my mind is the laughter, the smiles, and the warm understanding that we knew they were doing something extraordinary, and they knew that we wanted to share it with the world.

And that’s all that matters.

Don’t be afraid to ask a tomorrow. A tomorrow is a good thing. ☺

Sharon