It all started at a coffee bar when I was greeted with a friendly, to the point, and very Italian “Dimmi.” I stood there quietly for a moment, before the barista realized I didn’t understand. He followed up in English with an accentuated, almost sultry, “tell me.” I loved it right then and there, recognizing the similarity to the French dis-moi. While he was only taking my coffee order, it was as if he was inviting me to tell him all that was on my mind.
I had just embarked on a two-week homestay in the small Italian village of Spello where my host, Manuela (now a dear friend of The Dimmi Project), was launching her own Italian language program. Her immersive methodology quickly appealed to me, so, taking just a slight leap of faith, I signed up to become her first student. When we first met, I noted how proud she was to be Italian, to be teaching a language she loved so much. It wasn’t difficult to quickly understand and share her enthusiasm, as the village she lived in was innately magical, the type of place that fairytales are set in. Every day I soaked in the resolute stonework, small roads twisting through the countryside, and technicolor flowers redoubling their ancestry to the land every spring.
Because Manuela would speak to me almost entirely in Italian, I had to rapidly adjust to living outside of my comfort zone. Together we’d take trips to the grocery store where she would task me with finding items on a list and ask me to order different amounts of meat and cheese from the deli. Or when we ventured into town, she would urge me to introduce myself to locals. These moments were undoubtedly awkward and filled with nervous laughs, but I didn’t mind; I was happy to be immersed in the daily traditions of the village, including the language. The accentuated cadence and the slow pace of life were all worth basking in.
Something changed for me after that fateful day in the village coffee bar. I started hearing dimmi everywhere I went in Italy, and soon caught on to “dimmi tutto.” The two words were a promise that after their utterance, conversation would flow. When you hear “dimmi tutto,” you could be in for a variety of responses: a friendly catch-up, a dramatic story, or a child trying to talk themselves out of the trouble they got into. I wanted to hold on to the words like stones in my back pocket, ready to cast out at the first sign of a story.
After some time, when I felt comfortable enough with the language that I could get by, I started to feel proud of my speaking abilities. I remembered to accentuate all the right syllables and knew where to use the slang I’d picked up. The more I engaged, no matter how uncomfortable I felt, the more easily the language flowed. I loved watching people's expressions of surprise and gratitude when I spoke Italian instead of English, and in those fleeting moments, I could feel a connection. I still dream about conversing with locals even in my grammatically-incorrect Italian because, at the end of the day, the connection, not the grammar, was the ultimate achievement.
Dimmi, the word, exists as the cornerstone of this project. Dimmi is all about connecting as human beings and as learners. It’s about feeling inspired by everyday interactions and sharing stories of our experiences. We invite you to tell us more, in any language, and hope you join us on our journey to make deep connections through learning.
Have you had a moment of connecting with a word or phrase in a different language? Write to us and dimmi tutto.
This article is part of DIMMI Digest: Connection. Since the beginning of time, language has been used to bring people together. In fact, according to linguists, no other natural communication system is like human language. Not only can the human language be used to convey information, express a feeling, or set boundaries, but it is also used to build connections - no matter how short the interaction may be. Take this story as one of the many examples.
