Diskuto Launches World Cup of Languages 2014

Diskuto helps people practise their languages!

Diskuto, a group for language lovers which I run, is dedicated the next month to the World Cup.

See the World Cup of Languages, which kicks off in Toronto on June 12, the opening night of the FIFA action (game that night is Brazil vs Croatia).

This is a contest to see how many languages you can speak, learn or teach in one night. If you're interested, come practise the official languages of any 2014 World Cup team:

• Arabic • Bosnian • Dutch • English • Farsi • French • German • Greek • Italian • Japanese • Korean • Portuguese • Russian • Serbo-Croatian • Spanish • Any Other language you want!

 Rules

1.  Different points are given for practising, learning or teaching any language. Teachers get more points than learners, and new language learners get more points than people who just want to practise. 
2. Languages that are more difficult/'rare' get MORE points (so come practise Russian or Korean or Bosnian - even better, come to teach it). This will be explained more at the event. 
3. Bonus 'polyglot' points for engaging in multiple languages in a night.
4. Even more bonus points for languages relevant to one of that day's World Cup matches (e.g Brazil is playing Croatia on June 12; therefore you get extra points if you engage in Portuguese or Croatian on the night of the kickoff) 
5. Add up your points, winner gets a prize for top Diskuto World Cup score.

Sound like fun? Check it out at the Royal Conservatory atrium (273 Bloor St W), 6pm-9pm on Thurs June 12. Register online.

Azzuri Blue Gelato: The Frozen Spiral of Shame

1 Italy-New Zealand 1

For Sunday morning, I'm a TTC pig: Bathurst streetcar, Bathurst bus, St Clair streetcar to Dufferin to check out the Corso for 10am versus New Zealand.

St Clair has a more mature crowd than College; fewer Gina Ciccolinas bouncing around enflaming the Cazzi Ragazzi. As a casual fan I take my time to stroll and consider the best spot for a patio Peroni, or maybe sausage on a bun from an unpermitted sidewalk BBQ. The St Clair Right of Way has narrowed the artery enough to limit the throughput of mutant Honda Civics, making conversation audible and the streetscape a delight in spite of unrelenting sun and 35C humidex.

The Azzurri are sloppy on defense and allow a quick New Zealand marker, but they make one up via officiating caprice when a New Zealand defender draws a penalty in his goal zone. Iaquinta buries the freebie and Italy are back from brink of elimination to typical teeth-grinding stalemate. By now the fans are queasy, contemplating Italy's possible early death with a second draw–we're beyond the excuses of 'they're just slow starters' to the doomsaying death spiral of 'blame the coach.'

At halftime I leave the Big Slice pizza to wander–past the bars, which are less youthful, more serious than College St yuppieterias; past chiesa St. Nicola di Bari and its thrice-daily Italian mass. I step into air-conditioned comfort at Tre Mari bakery, a Corso Italia mainstay that's landmark enough to rival Nino D'Aversa in North York. I try to order chocolate cannoli but the old man in front of me negotiates a drawn-out volume purchase of tiramisu and zeppoli from a bakery girl who insists on re-confirming his order status after loading each successive unit into the box. I give up and silently slide further west.

I stop past Lansdowne at La Paloma and enter for a gelato, cappuccino and empty chair. The capp is serviceable but the morning is much too hot. My gelato is mint chocolate plus a new fluorescent blue flavour, 'Forza Azzurri', that looks like Smurfette and tastes like blue freezee. The screen is small and the game tedious so I mow on ice cream and tweet.

It ends a draw. I keep heading west. Past Caledonia, beyond a community-decorated underpass, a dangerously loud Italy fan inside an unfortunate pub can be heard screaming for blocks away. The Jamaican vendor of flags near Old Weston Rd sees me approach in my Italy cap, shakes his head and looks away.

In a Hollandaze; Italy's College St Walk and Gawk

Netherlands 2-0 Denmark
School Bakery & Cafe has figured out their World Cup marketing strategy. Pick a team, tell everyone you're the Cup HQ for that team, deliver a huge patio, gourmet breakfast and big screens, and the media will follow. Does School have any obvious apparent ties to the Netherlands? None that I can see. In 2006 it was Betty's who claimed Dutch territory rights, and I saw a couple matches there. But I skip that King E watering hole and ride Mario to the urban-suburban blend of newly rebuilt Liberty Village, where gentrification has achieved nirvana.

The breakfast at School smells delicious, but I don't eat any. There's nowhere to sit down, so I snap a few pics of Dutch flags and head across the neighbourhood in search of Denmark. My intel says the Brazen Head pub is the place. Brazen Head sits in the Liberty Market Building plaza, beside the world's most gentrified smokestack. An Irish pub as Denmark HQ? Too bad Brazen Head forgot the key element in dubiously claiming an obscure country's fanbase: actually opening your doors for the match. Blargh, they're closed, so I give up and head to work. So much for my Hamlet sandwich. Note to pub owners: I know 7:30 is early but this is why the Dutch are kicking your ass! Here's to a 2-0 win and knowing how to market to bandwagon-jumpers like me.

Italy 1-1 Paraguay
Experts keep saying Paraguay has a chance to beat Italy, just like experts keep saying that you might catch swine flu, or that climate change could destroy all life on Earth. Whatever, it's not going to stop the party, nor stop Italy fans from swaggering. I head down from work on lunch to be among the family.

Toronto Italians have perfected the art of the World Cup Walk and Gawk: the televised match blends seamlessly into the streetscape. I don't even need to watch at any one bar; I watch at all of them. If you cruise along College, the bars, patios and flat screens follow you as you go.

I can't count the number of places with cheering fans: The Dip, Gato Nero, Marinella, Bar Azzurri , Coco Lezzone, Vivoli, Vecchoo Frak, Southside Louie's, John's Classic Italian, Bar Italia, CHIN radio, Riviera Bakery , and more. Fans lining up and down the sidewalk, spilling into side streets. Groups of men, young and old, literally standing and staring, like late stragglers at mass in back of the cathedral.

Italy are known for slow starts, and Paraguay is good indeed: the latter score first thanks to an effort by awesomely-named Antolin Alcaraz, and the rancorous Italy self-blaming begins. But Azzurri gets it back in the second half on a goalkeeper miscue that allows De Rossi to score, so end up with a queasy draw--already the fans lose a bit of shine from their swagger. Make no assumptions about Slovakia nor New Zealand, ragazzi!