Mamma mia, ho diventato un'insegnante (Oh my god, I became a teacher)

I will tell you all this, it is awesome to be paid in euros.  It is glorious to think about the fact that there is no exchange rate involved, much less international debit charges on my card, despite the fact that the exchange rate was pretty good today ($1.36 to the euro, not bad).  In other words, I have a job!

Through a long string of people and connections, I somehow landed a gig as a, for lack of a better job description, native-english-speaking-friend-slash-conversationalist for what seems to be a family that owns a pizzeria.  Except, oh wait, what I was actually expecting a pizzeria is instead a huge trattoria (aka nice restaurant) with Roman ruins all over it (they have a glass floor in a couple places so you can see a Roman well.  History nerd or not, I think that's pretty sweet).  Basically, the mother Marzia told me that she wants me to come by twice a week at lunch time and have fun, relaxed english conversation with her daughter Michelle, who is 8, and her cousin Martin (age 10), and on occasion her younger brother (age 5).  And before I knew it, I was sucked into this family affair and am slowly getting to know all of the relatives and people who work in this restaurant.

I was expecting just some regular sort of tutoring job, right?  But as we have all learned, expectations in Italy, in general, are absolutely useless and futile.  So I show up at 1:30 on Friday (American punctuality may never leave my system, we'll see after a year), and am ushered back to a table with these 3 little kids.  The best part, I quickly realize, is that I can understand what they say in Italian - woo hoo!  Obviously this means I will be able to maintain some semblance of order...just in case things get out of hand (you never know, what if they were wild?).  Of course they are all completely delightful, and naturally really bright.  Kids are amazing with how they learn language.  In fact, they understood so much of what I said, even if they continued to respond in Italian, and then we would just practice the responses together.  So I pull out some markers, paper, and m&m's (never underestimate the power of candy) and we spend 2 hours talking, drawing, counting, and so on.  But wait - it gets better.

Obviously I should have expected the food, and I did...but not quite so elaborately.  I mean literally, they brought over a pizza for the table, then lasagna (yes, with homemade pasta and meat sauce and this cheese that was just spilling over the side), and then wait, obviously I needed dessert, right?  The tiramisu...I can't even get into it.  So after a successful day, I assumed that would be it.  Except for when I showed up today to tutor Michelle and was subsequently brought fresh tortellini with pancetta and mushrooms and a little creme filled puff drowned in chocolate sauce, etc etc etc...you get the picture.  I cannot believe I am basically getting paid to eat this stuff (and ask about favorite colors in english).  Life could obviously be worse.

Yet I seem to be becoming a teacher as fast as (or faster than?) I am becoming a student.  You see, both times I was talking with these kids, two different family members (aunts, I believe) came up and listened, then asked me if I would tutor them as well.  Which means that I have another two hour date for Saturday morning at this trattoria in addition to my two lunch dates there, though I guess I'll leave the markers at home for that one.  And I think this also means I need to learn how to teach english grammar at the same time I try to perfect my italian grammar.  Interesting how the tables turn, no?