Step One on arrival anywhere is obviously to introduce yourself, and whatever the extent of my doubts about being able to survive linguistically, I was fairly certain that I could manage “My name is…” in both languages. What I hadn’t bargained on was that it would be what followed that would pose a problem. Indeed, I’d have to admit to having been positively complacent: Anna is hardly thoroughbred British; my parents are quite proud of having chosen it in a fit of “our children will be citizens of Europe!” or something. I was to pay for such a lack of foresight. In Italy, all but nobody, who didn’t see it written down, could get my name right. I worked with people called Anna, I had students called Anna and yet it just didn’t seem to register with anyone and I became Ann (or rather “Enn”) or Hannah.
In the case of the latter mistake, I came to learn that they just didn’t believe that Anna existed in English, because it’s an Italian name, right?
The ‘Ann’ problem though was definitely more of a pronunciation issue. I think basically that the second ‘A’ was completely lost to them, it not really sounding like an ‘A’… During my time in Italy, I came to be very pleased that English is my mother tongue and for precisely this reason. The way we spell our words has almost no bearing at all on how we say them. To get all phonemic for a minute, that second ‘A’ is a ‘schwa’ – the sound that is produced by doing absolutely nothing with your mouth and vocal chords. Take “comfortable”….or cuhmftuhbuhl according to Italian orthographic theory. Why wouldn’t you say every letter that’s written? Or rather, why on earth would you have letters that you don’t say?
Pronunciation is probably the least volatile thing Italy has to offer and its English counterpart is, quite frankly, a bitch. So my name fell foul of what I might call the ‘fascinating complexities’ of the old mother tongue; I lived for 8 months as Enn (or on one notable occasion Hannas) but you can all pat yourselves on the back at the end of a bad day for your mastery of through, though, thorough and trough.
Having been in France for about six weeks now, I can attest to the fact that, to a certain extent, this is a problem that the two experiences have in common. Only this time, it’s not so much my name that is the issue as the name of where I’m from. I worked hard on purifying the vowels and remembering to roll the ‘r’ in Birmingham whilst I was in Italy and now I’ve had to start all over again. It’s essential though as well as fairly fascinating: say it properly and you get blank faces, say it with a ridiculous accent and it’s all “sì!” and “oui!” and “aaaah!” (or, topically, “your house hasn’t been burnt down has it?”). So (though I really do hate to say it), the next time your Dad’s embarrassing you on holiday by trying to order a meal in painfully slow English with every ‘th’ replaced with ‘z’, maybe cut him some slack?
As of yet, the only other significant similarity I’ve been able to pinpoint is of a distinctly non-linguistic nature. Don’t judge too quickly, please; I personally believe this to be a veritable pinnacle of modern cultural observation.
Nutella. Everywhere. D’appertutto. Partout. Quite literally ubiquitous in both countries. Being perpetually covered in the stuff should be listed as a verified occupational hazard of being an au pair here. Every breakfast, snack and work surface has a sticky brown topping. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite partial to a little bit of Nutella every now and again, I’m making no judgement on the basis of taste but, perhaps especially in France, it’s more than just that they like it…
For one thing, there is no market rival, not really. I mean, my sister has a penchant for chocolatey spreadable substances but you’ll be digging out your thermals for your next trip to hell before my Mum will buy Nutella. So, I guess it’s achieved a Sellotape-esque status in that respect, but it goes further still. It’s not just a household name. It’s a basic. A staple, even – the French slogan is “Nutella vous accompagne au quotidien” (approximately translating to “Nutella: with you every day”) for goodness’ sake. That’s still not it though. I heard colleagues in Italy swapping recipes for Torta alla Nutella and it is almost undoubtedly responsible for flavouring anything that is ‘au chocolat’ here. It is a raw ingredient. It’s like oil. If you told me it was mined I’d be forced (based on my experience alone of European dependency) to believe you and respond that it’s a miracle that there hasn’t been any conflict yet.
I know that I said this wouldn’t be linguistic but there is just one thing (just the one, I promise) and that’s pronunciation. I have an on-going joke with a friend who also studies languages about the way he says Nutella, [nuˈtɛlla] (nootella) as opposed to /nʌˈtɛlə/ (nuhtella). I’ve always mocked him because to me it seemed obvious that you’d say it like “nut”, right? Because it’s made of nuts, right? What is there to debate, right? Indeed, the website tells me that it was renamed in 1964 “in recognition of the international appeal of the unique hazelnut taste”. So, I’m right, right? My friend’s justification however, has always been that that’s not how they say it anywhere on the continent and it doesn’t, after all, come from an English-speaking country and he does of course have a point. Nutella is Italian and “nut” is not. So what is the correct pronunciation? I’d love to know how it was marketed when the name was first changed but is that even really the issue? I think it comes back to a previous point: I can stay on my linguistic high horse if I like but my friend will get what he wants abroad and I’ll be left empty-handed. And who wouldn’t betray themselves for a chocolate crêpe?
All of that aside, my point is that whatever people say about the state of international relations, this little bit of gooey unity remains adhesive and (I’ve been holding it back, I swear) widespread. The Italian slogan is perhaps the most accurate in capturing the mood as I feel I’ve observed it: “che mondo sarebbe senza Nutella?” What would the world be without Nutella?
