Two years ago I was persuaded to begin lessons in Italian in preparation for my first trip to Italy. Friends suggested using the ‘fun’ App Duolingo. These friends were already using it and I thought it might be a good way of keeping the old grey cells active in a way that might actually be useful when travelling.
And so it was that I met Duo – the cheeky green cartoon owl 
whose lingo I was hoping to learn. There he was, bouncing around the screen on my iPad – cha-chinging merrily, flapping his little wings and blinking his huge eyes appealingly as I stormed my way through simple exercises. Oh how he praised me! He flattered me at my linguistic facility. He presented me with virtual gilded chests of shiny gems and awarded me mega-points. It felt so good.
For a while.
After that while, I began to get annoyed that I was learning how to ask for the ‘check’ (the BILL surely) or where to find the store (rather than the shop). And the Italian spelling of Philadelphia, rather than (eg) Slough. (I’d actually like to know how the Italians would tackle Slough.) Quite a bit of shouting at the screen ensued – I AM NOT AN AMERICAN – but I ploughed on relentlessly because the little green owl had cunningly tapped into a character-flaw – my ridiculous competitiveness. League tables! Promotions!
This is how they get you!
By practising, and getting the answers correct, I not only earned points and make-believe sparkly jewels, but I progressed up a league table. There is nothing like the threat of demotion, or the potential for PROmotion, to encourage a bout of fast-pace vocab-matching on a Sunday night. After working my way doggedly (or owlishly) through the more workaday precious things (Bronze, Silver, Gold, Sapphire etc) I reached the heights of Obsidian! And I still couldn’t honestly say I could speaka da lingo. (And full disclosure, Obsidian is not the top.)
I confess I did not use the full extent of this wonderful App’s resources. For a start, I refuse to shell out any money (ha! – so that ploy of offering me extra time and other paid-for advantages didn’t work Duo, did it?), so any suggested add-ons were out of the question. And any serious extra studying – grammar explanations in the Guidebook etc – was quite definitely not on my agenda. I preferred simply to work my way through the Learn pathway, following the Sections and Units as prompted and gathering points on the way. I would sometimes deviate to practise vocabulary at speed – but only because this would boost my points and shove me up the league table. 
When we booked our trip to Jordan earlier this year, I was tempted by Arabic lessons, and dutifully practised every day for six weeks – to absolutely no avail. Whilst Italian had been having some small effect – due, I suppose, to my familiarity with other European languages – I am already completely devoid of any Arabic recollection just five months later. Whilst in Jordan I tried to pick out words I recognised and perhaps pronounce them. This proved pointless and completely unsuccessful. I even wrote the word for ‘England’ in Arabic on the address of a postcard which I asked the hotel to send to my Auntie. She reported its arrival some four months later. It had presumably been all round the world in search of someone who could fathom what on earth I’d written.
I redoubled my efforts with Italian before last week’s third Italian choir tour and I do feel I have made some headway, although this time I had to endure regular pretend phone calls with a vile cartoon woman in order to do so. I initially believed the suggested calls were with real people (my fellow league-climbers I supposed) and avoided them, but eventually I had to accept a ‘call’ in order to progress to the next lesson, and realised it was simply another cartoon creation to irritate me. The grumpy attitude on her was appalling. I caught myself appraising her attitude as an employee, before rationalising a little and calming down. The things we do in the pursuit of knowledge and greatness (and points!).
But with the 2025 Italia choir tour visit over, and no certainty of returning to Italy in the near future, I find there is little point in cluttering up my already busy day with chasing Obsidian glory. So I have stopped.
But that little owl won’t let it lie. I regret giving him my email address now.
“Your Italian won’t practice itself.” (I know!)
“Practice makes progress” (note, he doesn’t say ‘perfect’ – careful not to overpromise for fear of lawsuits perhaps?)
“These reminders don’t seem to be working.” (Correct.)
I am quite annoyed to be pestered like this, but I suppose that’s modern tech for you. Just ignore.
“Am I coming on too strong?” (Er, what?)
“Duo’s not getting any younger.” (Well, none of us is mate.)
“Are you ghosting Duo?” (Ghosting? Now come on, get a grip.)
“You made Duo sad. I’m very impatient.” (Now this is emotional manipulation!)
“Are you still there?” (Don’t say anything, don’t say anything)
“It’s been days – sad face emoji” (Hide, run and hide!)
Then nothing.
More nothing.
He’s gone.
Guilt creeps in. What have I done?
And this is why the similarly lurid-green parakeets are massing outside my window every evening and screeching at me ‘Murderer!!!!!’