While I was packing and getting ready for my trip with the objective to learn Italian, my mother sat on my bed. She told me about traveling around France and Italy on the back of a motorcycle, stopping at markets to buy bread, cheese and blood oranges for impromptu picnics; she had also gone to Italy with the objective to learn Italian. My ears perked up at the mention of the blood orange-even its name sounded exotic and decadent. This was in the days before yuppie grocery stores sold goods from around the world, and in our neck of the woods, even the kiwi was still regarded as a novelty.

So, in Siena, with a few hours to spare after my first day of class to learn Italian, I wandered around the market, looking for my first taste of Europe. I had memorized that useful phrase, "I would like..." I have found that this phrase and a strong index finger are all the communication tools you need for basic survival until you learn italian. Unless you are picky. Unless you want something specific-not just any orange, for example, but a dark red, sweet, tangy blood orange.

I found a charming fruit market and greeted the monger, a graying old man with a wizened face and sharp, appraising eyes. It dawned on me that I was not ready for this first transaction after having had only one day to learn Italian! I hadn't the slightest idea how to say "blood orange" in Italian. I tried a few variations-"orange of blood" brought looks of disgust and confusion. "Special orange" brought a torrent of language, none of which I understood since I had just started to learn Italian. I settled on "red orange, you know? Red, red!". Here is where I noticed that my trip to learn Italian in Italy would have to be recurring in order for me to be able to at least communicate an idea.