Father Ignatius spent the early years of his priesthood in Rome, so he was quite fluent in Italian, although he had no opportunity to use his linguistic skills in St Vincent Parish. Until last week that is.
One of his parishioners, a wealthy businessman, invited him to a new Italian restaurant for lunch and to discuss the proposal to refurbish the church hall and Parish house.
It was a nice little restaurant beautifully decorated in Italian style resembling a typical fisherman’s cottage you’d find in Naples. Although the menu was mostly fish, you could still order a nice pizza or your favourite spaghetti or ravioli.
“We’ve refurbished and decorated this place” said the proud businessman as they sat at a table near the window.
“It’s beautiful” said Father Ignatius, “I hope you won’t decorate the church hall in the same style though …”
And so the conversation progressed throughout a lovely meal with the sound of Italian music playing softly in the background through hidden speakers. The priest recognized Domenico Modugno singing Volare and Mario Lanza’s version of Torna Sorriento. It took him back to happy times spent in Rome and Turin.
But that was not the only Italian that reached his ears that day. He noticed that from time to time the efficient waiters spoke to each other in their native language and commented on the customers sitting at table. Sometimes their comments were quite complimentary and pleasant, whereas at times they were quite rude and certainly inappropriate in his presence … if only they knew!
At one point he heard them speak about him.
“That man at table six is a priest,” said a waiter to another, “how can he afford to eat here? I thought priests were meant to be poor …”
“Don’t you recognize who’s with him?” replied the second waiter, “he’s the contractor who decorated this place. I bet he’s paying … you’ll see …”
“Just as well …” said the first waiter, “the priest looks poorer than a church mouse. I bet he hasn’t a penny on him …”
Father Ignatius smiled at himself and said nothing; except continue his conversation with his host.
When the meal was over, and just as they were leaving, Father Ignatius turned to the two waiters and said in Italian, “Grazie molto. Arrivederci.”
Three simple words, uttered in perfect accent, which spoke volumes to those they were addressed to. You should have seen their faces!
I bet the look on their faces was priceless! Excellent story, Victor.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I passed along a blog award to you over at my site. The thing is: you have to tell us seven things about yourself. Only if you want to, of course :)
God bless!
Thank you so much Mary for your Award. I'm very grateful and blushing right now.
ReplyDeleteI have accepted and posted my acceptance speech above.
God bless.
Mario Lanza - a man with a glorious voice who died much too young. I never get tired of listening to his songs.
ReplyDeleteA good lesson - we should be careful what we say in the presence of others who might overhear us.
Hi Barb,
ReplyDeleteThis experience actually happened to me. The waiters were talking amongst themselves in Italian, fortunately not about me!
I said nothing until the end when I left.
God bless.
Dearest Victor,
ReplyDeleteOh, we both know this feeling when you 'surprise' others that had been talking badly.
We were at a hotel in Jakarta for the weekend, before flying to our work destination after having met with our boss in the capital. At the pool there were lots of Dutch women, in their 40s I guess, they'd JUST arrived, by bus and were touring Indonesia. They were gossiping and badmouthing the very country they just had landed in and arrived here... So I started talking to Pieter in Italian, so they would not get suspicious of us being so close to them. Once they were in the water, Pieter informed me that their dialect sounded just like some students he'd had, from my neighboring Province. Are you sure I asked Pieter and he said, yes 100%. The loud woman went on and on. All of a sudden, I jumped up and told Pieter that's enough! In my bikini I dived in and swam straight to the 'lead' gossip woman. And asked her in my dialect, which is rather close to theirs, how they knew that much about Indonesia in only half a day? Have you forgotten where you came from, how we used to live in the 1950s? And some more straight questions. She forgot to swim for a moment and went bloop... down under into the water! She gasped and uttered, so you are not Italian?! I can be anyone I want to be I said as I speak but seven languages and we often switch as it proves to be quite interesting! She lost it and then I swam back to Pieter and he grinned. The group continued and one woman said, that girl... No said the 'lead' gossiper, she's older than you think as she mentioned lots of things about daily life in the 1950s. That taught all of them a good lesson!
We've done it more times and always had a good laugh.
Hugs,
Mariette
Thank you for this story, Mariette. It is indeed rude when people speak badly about a country or person in a loud voice assuming that no one will understand them. You did very well and were very courageous. Bravo.
DeleteI am a coward and mostly keep quiet. But don't frequent that restaurant again.
God bless always.
😉
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