While I was preparing for my semester in Rome, I remember hearing this advice about Italian language: You don’t need to know Italian to study in Rome, but the more you do know, the better experience you will have.

I took that to heart — the “you don’t need to know Italian” part. Sure, I even got an Italian dictionary and some of those nifty instructional tapes, but this summer was so hectic, I never had time to work on it more than once or twice. Whenever the thought crossed my mind, I just repeated to myself: “You don’t really need to know Italian. Really. Really!”

Once I arrived in Rome, I quickly picked up a new piece of advice regarding the language: If you try to use it, Italians will appreciate you just for trying and will respond better.

This seemed like great advice to me too, because it helped to ease the difficulty of being completely surrounded by a foreign language. It made me think that every Italian I interacted with would find personal value and excitement in hearing me try to utter a single word in Italian.

In the first few weeks, I picked up a lot of language skills just from day-to-day interactions in stores and on the street. I also had the first few sessions of a basic Italian survival course taught by real Italian instructors. Armed with new phrases such as “non capisco,” “come si dice” and “posso avere questo,” I was ready to take on the world.

I soon learned that there were five different possible scenarios or outcomes whenever I made a very poor attempt at Italian.

First, the person I was talking to really could respond well. For example, the lady at the frullateria by our studio was always very friendly. She would correct me on the difference between “tramezzini” and “tramezzino.” I would always try to order “uno tramezzini” — the equivalent of ordering “one sandwiches.”

Speaking of the frullateria, by the way, a frullato is a delicious whipped fruit and milk treat, like a milkshake, except with 100 percent fresh fruit.

Anybody who has ever been to Rome and knows this frullateria probably has his or her mouth watering while reading this.

Second, the store owner could ignore my feeble attempt and jump right into English. This happened to me often at first, although the frequency has gradually decreased as I’ve started to dress more Italian, act more Italian and even pick up great European habits such as chain smoking.

But when someone would use English, I found it a little frustrating. How was I supposed to learn more of the language if they’re telling me something costs twenty-five thousand instead of saying venti-cinque mille?

Third, the person could actually be fooled into thinking I know the language. They would respond with approximately five sentences in Italian, which would make absolutely no sense to me. I would then have a really stupid look on my face as I tried to think through how to explain myself.

My worst experience with this was the first time I went into McDonald’s and proudly ordered a sandwich completely in Italian. The guy asked me if I wanted a value meal with it, but I didn’t understand what he was saying.

Instead of trying English or making any gesture that would help, he just kept asking me the same thing over and over in Italian while getting angry at me.

Fourth, which is closely related to scenario three, I could slip up myself and say something in English, thus embarrassing myself. I have found this particularly hard while going to the shop on Piazza della Cancelleria where I get my film processed. It is a tiny store always packed solid with people out the door, and everybody there loves to talk at length.

I’ll be packed into a little space, shoulder-to-shoulder with people around me. You can barely hear because of the drone of people speaking loudly in Italian. I’ll get up to the counter and try to ask for something, and then I’ll slip and say something English, like “that one.”

I always feel like whenever that happens, there is just a huge pause, silence descends, and everybody turns at looks at me, thinking, “Oh, look at that AMERICAN.”

Fifth and finally, the person can just get pissy with me. This has happened often enough to even make me question the initial advice about how Italians appreciate it when you try their language.

A few weeks ago, I was at a town called Urbino, where there is a major university. I decided to do a little investigative reporting into student life. I thought the best way to do it would be to get a copy of their university newspaper. I looked up how to ask about the paper in Italian, but then when I tried asking somebody, it must have sounded horrible. He got very irritated with me and said, “What? Just say it English!”

These experiences have taught me a lot about what it’s like to be an international student, traveling to another land and exposing yourself to culture shock as you strive to learn and improve. I think they’ll continue to affect me, not only as fun memories but also when I return to the States and interact with international students in my own country.

And if I ever go into Jimmy John’s and hear someone trying to order “uno tramezzino”, I will definitely help them out!

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Matt Ostanik is a senior in architecture from Washington, Ill.