I'll find a way.

No doubt about it, I am working at a handicap when I live in a country in which I don’t speak the native language. Right here. In Sardinia. In Italy. It means I can’t strike up spontaneous conversation with anybody I meet on the streets. Or even in certain social situations. We’ve really got to speak the same language to have meaningful discussions. And if I do that only with Italians that speak English, I’m focusing on only people that have cultivated a second language. Usually, better educated people. I’m acquainted with an Italian. And he’s a rather interesting fella. I’ve learned that he’s a fascist sympathizer, and has collected many mementos of Benito Mussolini and that he proudly displays them on his mantel. He’s a guy I’d like to engage in a political discussion. And I can’t do that unless I have an interpreter. Because he speaks Italian. And no English. And I speak English. And virtually no Italian. Yes, it’s a handicap. But that doesn’t stop me from writing something. About the handicap. And how I might compensate for it. With the help of a willing interpreter. Meanwhile, I’m just nosing around. Inquiring about Italian politics. Trying to learn how modern day Italy deals with political issues. And whether Italy has truly abandoned fascism, or if a significant undercurrent still exists. I don’t want to let the language barrier stop me. I’ll find a way. –Jim Broede