Ciao, Roma!

I didn't think leaving Rome would be such a sad occasion.

If you told me two weeks ago before we left that I would be near tears as our bus pulled away from St. John's, or when we said our final goodbyes at the airport, I would call you crazy. I knew going in that I would have a wonderful time, but I had no idea that this really would be the experience of a lifetime.

Of course I knew that I would see what remains of the ancient city, but I didn't realize what it would mean to me.  I will never forget our unique, special tour of the Colosseum, especially running around on top of it taking as many pictures as we possibly could. Climbing up the Castel Sant'Angelo and seeing that spectacular view from the top was incredible. Walking into my first Roman church, Santa Maria in Trastevere, was breath-taking. The interior of the churches in Rome were spectacular and beautiful.

Then there was the food. Oh. My. God. I don't think I can ever appreciate American pizza again. The variety alone of pizzas offered was incredible. And the quality of the food... I can't even begin to talk about the freshness. The pasta was amazing everywhere! Even the simple things, like running into the place down the street and grabbing a suppli (rice-ball) for lunch was always so different and unique than at home.

But I think the best part of this trip for me was, hands down, the friendships I made with 23 amazing people. There's nothing like being dropped off in a random, incredible city with a bunch of friends and attempting to find your way back. There's nothing like exploring, trying to figure out what bus will get you back, or trying to figure out which way will get us back the quickest with a great group of people.

The friendships I made on the trip are incredible. I cannot wait for our Gnocchi Thursdays, our attempts at copying and recreating some of our favorite Roman recipes, and maybe one day, an actual reunion in Rome (June 5th!).

To those of you went on this trip, especially Dan and Jackie, thank you for making it so incredible. By far these past two weeks have been two of the best weeks in my life. One day we'll head back... I'll start looking for my apartment in Trastevere!

Meow

I'm not sure why, but Romans really have a thing for cats. It's not just a tourist thing. We've come across at least two landmarks that have been turned into cat sanctuaries: the Republic Forum and the Protestant Cemetery.

In the Forum, you can't really get near the cats. The Forum is essentially a big hole in the ground with some ruins, but everyone goes there to see the cats. There are even signs posted how to abandon your cat safely in the Forum.

When we went to the cemetery, however, cats were walking all over the place. Supposedly they're feral cats (not domesticated, have no idea how to interact with humans). But these cats are so used to human presence that they even welcome it most of the time.

Every once in a while you'll seem them wandering on the street. I don't know if they belong to anyone or if they're strays, but they enjoy walking down the streets. Most people don't even  give them a second glance. We saw one guy today essentially have a conversation with a cat. I'm assuming he was telling the cat to get out of his store, and the cat just looked at him and kept meowing. I laughed... cats act the same here as they do at home!

Writing Assignment 12 - Solo Excursion to the Santa Maria della Concezione / Cappuchin Crypt

What a creepy, yet awesome place.

We started out walking through the Cappuchin Crypt, which is a long hallway with six open rooms (known here as chapels). Five of them contain various skulls, pelvic and hip bones, arms and legs, and even full skeletons. These bones belonged to monks. Now, there are thousands of skulls alone within these five rooms, and they're all arranged decoratively.

When I first saw it, I was shocked. These are real bones from real people. It's incredibly disturbing. But once the shock ceases, you realize how beautiful these arrangements are. Smaller bones (from the ribs, maybe? I was never good at anatomy) are arranged along the walls, not just in the chapels, to make different shapes and patterns. In the last chapel, they're even arranged into a clock shape. On the ceiling, a full skeleton holds a scythe and a set of scales (both of which are, of course, made out of bones). Even the chandeliers were made of bones!

What was even creepier were the the full bodies that are either laid down or being held up so they look like they're standing. Some of their heads weren't just skeletal bones... it looked like the flesh hadn't decomposed all the way. Apparently, the bodies were left buried for at least 30 years. How long does it take flesh to decompose? Please don't answer that, I'm not sure I really want to know.

We weren't allowed to take pictures, but I found this one online!

The center is a coat of arms. Literally. It's made with arms.

After we finished in the crypt, we went upstairs to the church itself. Maybe it was because we just came from a small hallway filled with thousands and thousands of different bones, but this church seemed a bit creepier than the others.

It was very dark inside, especially within all of side chapels. It walls themselves were dark and didn't look like it was taken care of very well. I can't tell you exactly what it was, but I didn't get a nice welcoming feeling from this church as I did from the others. It was certainly beautiful, but I felt uncomfortable.

Writing Assignment 11 - Space and Place in the Vatican Museum

The entire museum is like a maze. It's full of dead ends that you're herded into by other visitors, then you're forced to turn around and attempt to find the way you came in, all the while pushing your way through other tourists who are shoving you out of the way.

Once you get out of the maze-like hallways on the first floor, you head up crowded stairs to the second floor into large rooms. The rooms were pretty spacious, yet even the largest room can feel like a cramped closet when there are enough people squished together. These rooms are like one-way roads; you can't go backwards, or risk the wrath of angry tourists shoving you even more. You can hardly even stop to get a good view at a piece of artwork.

Today I felt more than a tourist; I felt like a scholar who was attempting to learn and appreciate what was around me, but couldn't because I was blocked by others rushing about. Because of this, I was forced to act like a tourist: push my way up to a piece, take a quick picture of it, and run away. I know I will look back at my pictures and not even remember taking pictures of half the statues, tapestries, and paintings that I saw.

Drivers are crazy, but pedestrians ain't too smart either

Driving in Rome is terrifying. All these cars zoom around, speeding down straight-aways, pulling out in front of other cars, passing by cars that are attempting to park... Seriously, how have I only witnessed one almost-accident?

The motorinos are worse. They're similar to motorcycles, but smaller and more comfortable looking. When it comes to road rules, they have none. They'll weave in and out of traffic and all the cars. I've seen one completely cut off a bus once. When all the cars are stopped at a red light, they drive between the cars to move to the front, but they don't even slow down!

The cool thing about the motorinos is that they're for everyone. I've seen young adults riding them, men in suits, even a cute little old lady. There's no stigma attached to them; everyone drives them. Think you'll see your average grandma on a Harley in America? Fat chance.

Pedestrians really aren't that bright either. During my first few days, I was terrified to cross the street. It's not like New York City... there, if you see a car coming, you stop and wait. Here, if a car is coming, it depends on how far away they are to see if you can make it across. The general rule of thumb seems to be "start walking across the street whenever you feel like it, and cars will stop for you." They always have (so far!). Usually just two feet away from you, but that's just their way of showing you how powerful they are. Just today, we ran across the street, essentially into oncoming traffic, to make the bus. Almost got hit by a motorino, but at least the 280 waited for us!

Writing Assignment 10 - Solo Trip to Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna

Katie W, Carolyn, Maria, Shannon and I decided to head down to the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna for our museum trip the other day. I'm really not a fan of modern art, but getting this experience wouldn't hurt, and maybe Italy's modern art would make more sense than what I'm used to.

Nope.

When you first walk in, you walk into single room full of artwork. Modern artwork. Modern artwork, most of which I just don't understand. There were a few that were interesting, like a painting of a newspaper and shoes, but many I just stood there, going, "Huh?" One of pieces was a bunch of what looked like cotton balls glued together in a circle behind a piece of glass.

One artist really caught my attention, and though I didn't get much of his work, I did spend a good deal of time staring at them, trying to figure them out. Leoncillo Leonardi (1915-1968) had four scuptures around the second room. Three of them were interesting and fun to look at. Katie said one of them even looked like a Picasso painting in 3D as a sculpture. As little as my knowledge of art is, I do know who Picasso is and what his artwork (kind of) looks like, and I agree.

Leoncillo Leonardi, Bombardamento notturno, 1954

The fourth sculpture, however, was absolutely fascinating. It depicted Saint Sebastian, chained to a pole and mortally wounded, yet in a very... odd way. When first glancing at this statue, all five of us thought it was a woman who was chained up. It was only after I read the title of the piece that I realized it was a sculpture of a (very famous) man. His head is tilted back and his hair is flowing. From a certain angle, it looks like he has breasts. Finally, if you get close enough, you can see that his toenails and fingernails are painted an unnatural pink color, as if he got a manicure/pedicure. Was Leonardi trying to effeminate Saint Sebastian?

Leoncillo Leonardi, San Sabastiano, 1939

 Luckily for me, those two front rooms were really the only modern/makes-no-sense pieces from within the last 70 years or so. The rest of the museum contained modern artwork from the 19th and early 20th centuries, some of which I actually recognized! (It finally pays to be friends with almost all art majors at school...) Check plus on me for not writing down the name of this piece (and I can't zoom in enough to see the title), but it is a Vincent Van Gogh piece! There was another one right next to this one. I really like his works, especially Starry Night (clearly, my purse does have a copy of that painting on it).

Another piece I found puzzling was a piece by Giulio Aristide Sartorio (1860-1932). It showed a slew of dead bodies along a coast line, with the goddess Diana standing alone, looking off into the distance. The bodies included men, women, children, even a few animals (a tiger and a bull among them). These humans, according to the title, are slaves. Diana isn't depicted as a human-like figure, she's shown as a famous statue that we've already seen. What's odd is that Diana is the goddess of fertility (in this painting, at least), which one can associate with continuing life, but she is surrounded by dead bodies. It's a very eerie and disturbing painting, and it's a terribly depressing scene. We spent a good time debating what it could mean.

Giulio Aristide Sartorio, Diana di efeso e gli schiavi, (1898-1899)

Even though museums of art are never that exciting to me, I enjoyed myself here and loved looking at all the artwork!

Writing Assignment 9 - Momentary Blindness in the Church of Santa Sabino

The flowers on the walk up the Aventine smell heavenly. The larges houses allow  all different kinds of flowers to grow and hang over their privacy fences. So many different kinds of flowers, so many different smells... The flowers, both wild and ones that have been planted, help demonstrate the beauty of Rome in the spring time.

There is almost complete silence once we enter the church. Nobody speaks out of respect, and the only noises that are heard are the visitors shuffling around. The "plinking" of the coins dropped into the donation box creates a wild echo throughout the church that startles everyone. The church has great acoustics; it would be wonderful to sing in there someday.

The air is cool on my bare arms as I walk around. Although it is warm and humid outside, inside the church has remained cooler, almost chilly. However, I'm not sure the goosebumps on my arms have anything to do with the temperature; the realization hits me that I am standing in a church that is 1700 years old. How many people have stood where I now stand. What struggles (there must have been many) had they faced in order to travel here? what has happened in this church that has allowed it to remain standing for so long?

The frigid marble against my skin shocks me as I sit down and rest, but I welcome the coolness on my legs. It has been a long, tiring, and hot day, and the park outside, next to the church's courtyard, seems to be the ideal place to take a break. My feet are again relieved as I finally sit on a shady bench, St. Peter's Basilica beautifully standing off in the horizon.