The ANNOTICO Report

Journalist Marcianne Waters' maternal Grandmother was Maria Malfesa Marino Dadino, who lived with her Americanized nuclear family from the time Marcianne learned to talk.

Marcianne claims the "experts say that words comprise 7 percent of communication, voice 38 percent and body language 55. I say, with us Italians, you can bring the words down to 1 percent, voice to 20 and body language to a whopping 79 percent. We don't tell you, we show you. It's a language all our own".

I'm not sure I agree. The Italian language is too melodious, and mellifluous not to be spoken, but Italians DO through body language and gestures, Enrich it immeasurably.

I have had examples all my life. But I'll never forget when I was in Italy, and asked a mature gentlemen for directions without the benefit of my being able to speak Italian or he English. His body movements, facial gestures, and gesticulations in providing directions were mesmerizing. A series of pointings would have been sufficient, but he preformed a mini opera, tipped his hat, and proceeded on his way.

I was transfixed.

Another point. It's amazing the number of people I keep coming across who have "submerged" Italian ancestry. :)

GETTING THE UPPER HAND, IN ITALIAN

Philadelphia Daily News

By Marcianne Waters

April 14, 2006

THERE'S BEEN a big flap about Supreme Court Justice Anton Scalia's recent response to a reporter.

Seems his reply was not the usual judicial jabber - it was a very expressive, very ethnic and not exactly complimentary hand gesture. A cupped hand under the chin that said "go scratch" quite clearly.

Uffa, why all the fuss? Ditto on Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi's pre-election use of some colorful slang, well-known on both sides of the Atlantic, regarding the voters in an upcoming election, the election he is now protesting.

These two guys, an ocean apart, are Italian. They were under attack. And they were miffed, to put it kindly.

Americans (pronounced "Medigon," firmly and with slitted eyes, clenched teeth and a sharp snap of the hand) are surprised, shocked, appalled. It makes the news. It's water-cooler chat. But it's all in the day of the average Italian.

Before you cry foul because my last name doesn't end in a vowel, consider that my maternal grandmother, Maria Malfesa Marino Dadino, lived with my Americanized nuclear family from the time I learned to talk.

Nanny's parents emigrated from Italy, so she grew up speaking Italian and learned English while at school. She'd speak English to the outside world and to us, but would revert to the native tongue when a sibling called, especially when she wanted to hide the news they were exchanging.

"Jesu Christe, Jesu Christe" was often heard - and she wasn't praying for salvation.

Even though I was too young to know that "Jesu Christe" was an expletive, I knew it was an expletive. My grandmother's tone (shrill, yet hushed), her face (furrowed brow, distinct scowl) and her stance (right hand gripping phone, left hand on hip, only momentarily dislodged to flail about during a particularly intense soliloquy) told me everything.

And that's the great thing about Italians. Conversation leaves the realm of simple communication and quickly becomes theater. (We invented opera, didn't we?)

Flaming fury, undying devotion, desperate grief, absolute terror, ecstatic joy and even mind-boggling confusion are acted out in one sweeping arm movement - or with one hand placed strategically, a la Signore Scalia. Or our own Rick Mariano, who seems to like to involve his entire body when sending his tortured message.

It doesn't matter if the words spill out in Farsi, it's the face, the voice and, without question and most importantly, the hands that tell the real story. One of my husbands threatened to tie my hands behind my back so that I would shut up. He was of German descent. Enough said.

Experts say that words comprise 7 percent of communication, voice 38 percent and body language 55. I say, with us Italians, you can bring the words down to 1 percent, voice to 20 and body language to a whopping 79 percent. We don't tell you, we show you. It's a sign language all our own.

I've seen books and even Web sites that try to teach Italian gestures. But you can't get it from a book. You have to live it, feel it, breathe it. It goes through the hands, but comes from the gut.

And it's a beautiful thing. Open, honest, authentic. It's also not always so serious or rife with long-term menace. When it's over, it's over.

That's another thing my Prussian spouse didn't get. We can curse you one minute, embrace you the next. Calling my amore "cafone" didn't mean I didn't love him. Like Vesuvius, I just liked to blow off a little steam. Threatening, but not really dangerous. (When I phoned a lawyer, it was a different story.)

So relax and enjoy. Mama mia, we're harmless. And very entertaining.

Ciao, mi amici.

http://www.nypost.com/entertainment/67009.htm

The ANNOTICO Reports are Archived at:

Italy at St Louis: www.italystl.com

Italia Mia: www.italiamia.com (Community)