Hiltrud

The morning of my first Tai Chi session, I stepped into the small hallway outside the gym unsure what to expect. Three short, wooden benches, one on the left, two to the right lined the tight space. Four older women and one middle aged guy and Riccardo, the sensei (easy to spot in his loose black pants and black tee shirt) chatted amiably as they set their shoes under the benches and slipped on their socks.(No one wears shoes on the polished wooden floor of the palestra.) Riccardo, who had expected me thanks to a text from Lorella, greeted me. “Ciao”. I returned the greeting. It was a short conversation given our respective lingual limitations.

Then a very tall, thin woman turned from the group and said, “Hi, I speak English.” That was Hiltrud.

Over the next few weeks we chatted before and after class. Once she drove me home and another time she offered me a ride to Greve, to save me a bus ride. She was a recent widow after a long marriage and lived alone out in the country, in the hills north of Greve. She welcomed me as a new friend and poured out her heart.

Hiltrud was born in Germany but her family emmigrated to Argentina when she was a young child. While German is her first language, she spoke Spanish for her school years, through University. As an adult she came to Italy, met her husband and has lived here for more than fifty years, speaking Italian like a native. And now she has learned English.

“I am awed by your ability to speak so many languages, Hiltrud,” I told her as I struggle to master some basic Italian. In response she shared the most poignant comment. She said she was told journaling will help work through her grieving but has been unable to do this.

“I don’t know what language I think in,” she said.