South Tyrol for Beginners Part 1: declaring your linguistic affiliation

A Beginner’s Guide to South Tyrol

PART 1:

A“It’s about cultural identity, I conclude.” week or so after we moved to South Tyrol in 2008, a man knocked on our door. My husband Lorenzo hears the guy out, and translates that he’s a census-taker of sorts. I saunter back into the baby’s room, assuming it won’t take the guy long to count to three. But a few minutes later, Lorenzo calls out: “You have to declare your linguistic group!” I call back, “Tell him I only speak English. And a little Dutch!” He comes to the nursery and says, “Sweetie, it’s not what language you speak. You have to decide which linguistic group you belong to.” Now, I’m a cooperative kind of gal. I enthusiastically fill out customer-service surveys. I always carry my tray of dirty plates to the rack at the Autogrill restaurants. But our apartment was full of boxes to unpack. Our daughter wasn’t sleeping. And I didn’t understand, back then, that proportional representation is integral to the fabric of South Tyrolean society: depending on which linguistic group you belong to, you either go to an Italian or a German school, or you are accepted into public service jobs. I didn’t care. I was annoyed, and the baby was crying. But I go out and say, “OK. Tell me my choices.” Lorenzo says, “A. German or B. Italian.” The poor Sprachgruppenzugehörigkeitserklärung guy (Yes, it took me a long time to type the word. No, I still for the life of me can’t pronounce it) isn’t following a lot of it, and I’m sure he just wants to tick his little box and get out of the crazy American lady’s house. But he does his part for the Ladin minority, piping up to add the truly-absurd-for-me-yet-absolutely-essential-in-SouthTyrol third option: “Or, C. Ladin.” Lorenzo, ever the appeaser, has the guy’s back: “Right, yes. Ladin. Which, honestly, makes just as much sense for you as the other two…”

I think about it. After a moment, I triumphantly declare my language group: “D. Other.” There’s a lengthy and at-timesslightly-heated discussion in dialect. My poor husband has to deliver the bad news: “Other isn’t a choice.” Now I’m all up in arms: “How is there no ‘Other’?! What if you don’t speak German, Italian OR Ladin?!” The guys are both looking at me with a mixture of pity and exasperation. Desperate to end it here and now, I ask Lorenzo: “What are you declaring?” Not a moment’s pause. “Italian.” This confuses me. “But you’re a native speaker of both.” For him, it’s obvious. “But I feel more Italian.” “So it’s cultural identity,” I conclude, a bit smugly. “It’s not about language at all.” If only I hadn’t said anything. Another discussion breaks out between these two lucky men, for whom the question is a no-brainer. They know exactly where they belong. They intuitively understand the question’s logic The Sprachgruppenzugehörigkeitserklärung or: Declaring your Linguistic Affiliation