ที่ตีพิมพ์: 03.07.2019
2.5 weeks in South Tyrol. That also means: 2.5 weeks of South Tyrolean dialect. German-speaking Italy! ;o) I have to say, when people consciously speak 'Standard German' with us here, we understand 75%. When South Tyroleans speak among themselves, 0%! We are still in a foreign country after all. Sunday was the Sacred Heart Sunday. The last Sunday in June. In 1796, facing the threat of Napoleon's troops invading, the Tyrolean Estates solemnly promised to entrust the country to the "Sacred Heart of Jesus" and to commemorate it every year. With fires that are lit on the mountains. A small group is also gathered here on the farm. There is more than enough wood to burn since the storm in October 2018. And thanks to the two volunteer mountain farmers' helpers (and of course the previous work of the farm owners ;oP), there were also several fire pits piled up on the meadows above the farm. Armed with beer and sausages, we set off to the spots. We also brought gasoline cans and lighters. When darkness fell, it started. And little by little, fires were also lit around the mountains. Individual small ones, whole torch paths, even an illuminated cross. The visitors didn't talk much with us. It's funny, we actually speak the same language. I briefly had the idea of switching to English together. Maybe that would be easier for everyone and would build bridges!? ;o) Meanwhile, it seems that the South Tyrolean always has time for a chat. All the suppliers (from salt for the animals, gasoline, drinks, feed, to the ice cream man and the clothes peddler) who make their way up here seem to not be in a hurry. Spontaneous help from neighbors during haymaking under threatening storm clouds is also appreciated with a chat despite the time pressure.
Very friendly! I think Grandma Anna speaks the broadest dialect in the house with us. I understand about 50% of what she says. The rest I try to imagine. She likes to talk about the past, the history of the farm, her family. Women didn't have it so easy in farm life: during the day, you were an ox - at night, a cow! I would like to mention my favorite quote from her here. What else have we learned? Dad is Tata - that was my first South Tyrolean word. The Teit (in this case the aforementioned brother of the farm owner) is the godfather. You greet each other with a friendly 'Hoi'. A child who wants to be carried is 'ge'huppt'. Otherwise, various diminutives are used: the little cup, the little spoon, ... I have already adopted these in order for the kids to understand me. Yes, anyway, ah WA, woll woll, that's right, fits well, sodawoll - these are more the winged words of the farm than dialect. The goat is the goat, the little goats are the kids. The Notscherle is a pig ...
And I have also learned to play card games with Ober and Unter. U iatz gien i inni.