So, this entry seconds as my journal entry for Dr. Roper’s Lit. Trad. Class. It’s a shame that I’m writing this online rather than in a journal. A Blog is somewhat less personal than an actual physical notebook where you can write random thoughts or contemplations at any given moment. I would probably be a little bit more open to what I write in a journal rather than a post that anyone can see on the internet. I should have a journal by now. I had more than enough time to buy a journal, but I’ve been pretty picky about the thing. I want something that looks a little nice and that will last a long time. I figure that if the first few days of this trip are any indication of what is to come, this is going to be an extremely memorable and cherished time of my life, and any record of that should be kept in a book that in a way reflects that.
I don’t plan on writing my day to day activities in this journal, as that seems to be frivolous and more textbook like than contemplative or personal as my thoughts are. I think writing about the moments that struck me the most and led to new feelings or thoughts would be more interesting than a review of my itinerary.
For this very reason, I’m not going to talk about the flight here or the first day at campus. I will say that although, it was nice to see people again and the first view of the campus was rather exciting, those first couple days were rather exhausting.
Instead I’ll start on our first trip to Rome, in particular the trip to the Vatican for Mass, and the tour afterwards. Stepping off of the bus into the city was an experience in itself. I felt rather childlike looking up at the soft-colored buildings. Prior to arriving I didn’t really fully conceive the idea of modern amenities mixing in with these extremely old buildings. I found it quite interesting. I guess I always knew that that is how things would work, but I never gave it much thought.
After a few minutes walk we finally reached the outside of St. Peter’s. Wow. There were hardly any people in the main plaza, and I was able to stand in the center of it and be surrounded by art and architecture that represented over 2000 years of a history, a history that in a minute way, I participate in. I consider myself a social person. I honestly can’t stand being alone. I’m constantly am looking for someone to be with or converse with. I probably talk too much too. Actually right now, I’m thinking where some of my friends might be, but when I stepped into St. Peter’s, I kind of forgot that I was with a hundred of my friends. I just wandered a way by myself, and kept quiet. It’s probably a little bit sad that it takes 2000 year old art to shut me up. But, I didn’t really care to be with anyone at that moment. I was surrounded by sculptures and artwork on all sides of me. The Pieta was on my right, and immediately people went to see it, but I just stood in the hall (I guess you would call it a hall that term doesn’t give it any justice) and stared at my surroundings. Sure there was the Pieta, but all around me were sculptures and artwork unlike anything I’ve seen before. Well, I guess I saw it in 2000, but this time was different. I wandered aimlessly looking at everything. I started to imagine the people who worked on this building on there scaffolding creating these works. Who were these people? These works had to be done by many artisans and all of them displayed amazing talent. I wonder if they knew what they were creating. Did they know that there hands were forming a site that millions upon millions of people will flock to every year? Did they care? As far as I know, some of them could of just been hired help. But thank God for them anyways. Last semester, Dr. Sommerfeldt mentioned that St. Peter’s was built in ways by corrupt money of the Church, and that left a sour taste in my mouth. It saddened me a bit at the time, but while that may be part of the historical background of this site, it is a thought that cannot take away from the magnificence of what it is today. I’m not sure if that made sense. Anyways, after my wanderings Mass was said, by Monsignor Fucinaro. It was said over the tombs of St. Simon and Jude! Slightly amazing. It was a beautiful way to open up the semester.
After Mass, I left St. Peter’s and while the exterior was awe inspiring as well, the hustle and bustle of cars and people brought me back to reality. I didn’t take any pictures on that first experience. Spending time taking pictures I felt would take away from simply soaking in the scene. I’ll be back though. We continued on a rather fast paced tour of the city, and simply got a glimpse of what is to follow through the next three or four months. I need to continue to go back and make more personal visits. I won’t mention anything about the tour for I plan to save information on those sites after I visit them again.
That night we went on our first mini adventure. Although I was rather exhausted, Joey, Stephanie, Caroline, Michael Barba, Jared, Elizabeth and I decided to go to Rome again. We never made it there. Instead we unintentionally went on a bus in the opposite direction of Rome sat on it for twenty minutes, realized we were going the wrong way, and got off in some random town up the mountain. Yeah I know, good way to start the semester right. It ended up being a rather fond memory. We got off the bus and didn’t decide to stay on the main road. Instead we thought it would be prudent to walk down a dark alley. Maybe the euphoria of the day tainted my judgment. Anyways we walk down a dark alley and eventually end up at a cemetery and the outside of some catacombs. It was interesting, but we didn’t really know what it was. We continued down a dark road and we saw on the top of a hill, and by hill I mean pretty much at the peak of the mountain a domed building and a little town. He walked a while up the “hill” to the town. It was nice very quaint. Or maybe it just seemed quaint, because there was no one in the streets. It was a little late maybe 10:30ish. We found this restaurant looking for desert. We didn’t really know how to order food so we simply asked for “Dulce” and “Vino.” Through much struggle and a little help from a nice older Italian man who spoke a little bit of English, we avoided accidentally ordering a five course meal, and got some tiramisu and red wine. It was amazing. After giving the owners much of our thanks and little of our money, we continued on our way to our elusive destination of the elaborate domed building on top of the hill. We labored long and hard up the mountain evading ghastly dark orbs of evil spirits, ferocious beasts, and Water spitting lions. (I’m getting a little bored writing this, so I thought I might add some flare) We eventually reached the dome which ended up being a church. The door was locked. There was a rather large building in front of it and that was also locked. Climactic, I think not. But I we were still having a good time. We saw a bus there we tried to get to it, and although the driver saw us waving and running frantically, he decided that it was in his best interest to drive away. YAY! So instead we waited for a bout an hour or so for the next bus in the freezing cold. And although this might seem rather depressing or disappointing, we were all having a great time. And why wouldn’t we be. I was spending my first night in a foreign country in an ancient city with some of my best friends. Why would a bus or a little cold get me down? We eventually found another bus and although it took us closer to home, it was going in the wrong direction, and we had to walk for another hour or so in what we were praying was the right direction on a dark and scary highway down a mountain. But although it made us all a little anxious being with those people made me not really care. It was our first little adventure in a semester that should be nothing short of extraordinary. Oh we also made a little movie of our trip. I don’t want to forget that.
So later in the week we found out that the town we went to was the city of Arricha. We learned that we walked aimlessly to the tombs of five people who dueled to prevent a civil war between Abolonga (the city that Aeneas founded) and Rome. We learned that the Church which we walked to was one of Bernini’s works which he modeled after the great Pantheon. And the big building across from it, where we were fooling around in front of was a papal palace which Bernini also designed. That was my first adventure in Italy. We got “lost” in a random town that held so much history, and we had a blast. I plan on going there again with the same people at the end of the semester. It should be interesting.
Classes were interesting, but I think I’ll elaborate on those in another entry.
The next weekend, Feb 1st and 2nd we took our class trip to the Naples archeological Museum and Pompeii. I don’t really feel about writing about that. That is not to say that I didn’t find them interesting. In fact, I found them fascinating. But, I rather talk about my friends in this first week or so. Its weird how friendships are forming in different ways then they were in Dallas. I guess it all started in Dallas, but I don’t really know what’s happening. I guess friendships are just getting redefined. Not in a bad way at all. Just different. I really like the people here. I’m taking Rome as a blank slate, especially after the way last semester worked out. It’s very relieving and comforting. I really don’t do well with drama. So, I choose to stay away from it. I want to have the chance to get to know better the people around me. I think Rome is a growing experience and I’m so happy that I get to experience this with the people that are here. I hope that in my last journal entry I’ll still feel the same way. I hope that we don’t annoy each other to death. I guess we’ll see. This is the point where I wish I had a real journal so that I could elaborate more. Anyways, I’m going to stop this reflection now, and probably end this entry. I keep saying this, but “I think this is going to be a good semester.” I can’t wait for what’s to come. Ciao!
