(This was all written over 4 days)
Begin.
I don’t really know how to write an introduction to this, so I’m just going to jump right in.
Wednesday and Thursday were one day. Mom and Dad drove me to the airport on Wednesday and accompanied me through to security. When I went to check in for my flight, we weighed my bag and it was 20 lbs over weight! Luckily I had packed a collapsible duffle and I was able to repack a second bag and spend less that half it than I would have for an overweight bag. The good bye wasn’t tough, but that’s not to say I was sad to be leaving them. It was a mix of excitement and anxiety for Rome and the plane ride over and how I wished they could be joining me (and they will be in March, so don’t feel too bad for them.)
I didn’t sleep much on the flight, maybe two hours, but that was two hours more than a lot of people. I landed two and a half hours before my shuttle left and an hour before any of my friends, so I waited around the airport, trying not to get pick pocketed or having someone run off with my camera bag.
First impression of Fiumicino airport was that it’s dirty. That thought wasn’t important, just wanted to share. Second impression is that customs is a joke. I literally picked up my bags, had my passport hastily stamped, and walked through sliding doors marked “Customs.” Italy is a joke.
The drive in to the city was an experience (Yes, the airport is not in the city, its about 20 minutes outside. What do you expect for an ancient city?), cars are tiny, fast, and drive very close together, all the while mopeds and motorcycles zip in and out of traffic. It should probably be “Traffic” with a capital T… that rhymes with P that stands for pool. Cause its trouble. (Sorry I couldn’t help myself) Dr. Dawson (The program director who lives in Rome) told us the key to crossing any street is “commitment.” I guess that’s true anywhere, but it seems to have worked out well so far.
After we arrived at the school, we dropped our large bags and carried the rest to our hotel, which seemed a marathon away. We were all tired, gross, and hungry, but the first order for business for everyone seemed to be a shower. The shower was tiny and had very little water pressure. Joe was not thrilled, but at least it was hot.
A group of eight of us left the hotel in search of food, and stumbled into the first café we could find. I was able to use my Italian for the first time when the little old lady seemed flustered at counting all of us and I calmly said “otto.” She seemed a little more welcoming after that. We all ordered pizza of course, only to find 18 inches of uncut pizzas in front of each of us. The food was great.
After lunch we had a 3 hour whirlwind tour of Rome where we saw most of the important sites and resources we would need (Tabacchia, Farmacia, Bar… which is actually different than a bar in America. Its more like the Italian version of fast food). After flying across the ocean and Europe on 2 hours of sleep this tour was the last thing any of us wanted to do, but it was a necessary torture and taught us a lot of valuable information, like how to use public transport.
The tour ended at a restaurant where we had our first group meal, a three-course dinner of prosciutto and mozzarella, pasta with ham, and strawberries and cream in a sugar cone dish. Oh and wine. And more wine. The authorities have not determined if it was the exhaustion or wine, but a lot of laughs, and tears, were had at that table. We safely returned to the hotel with out newfound knowledge of Roman transportation and everyone was asleep by 9:30.
Day 2
Wake up at 7:00. Breakfast at 7:30. Leave for mass 8:00.
Oops. I almost forgot to mention mass was at St. Peter’s with the Pope. nbd.
We got tickets to mass through the program and showed up at 8:00am for the 9:30 mass, possibly pushing aside a few old nuns along the way. We were seated 4 seats from the aisle and about 40 rows back, definitely part of the early crowd but not the crazy early crowd. About 30 minutes before mass, the congregation was led in praying the Rosary with the joyful mysteries, as this was the Mass of the Epiphany. Then mass started, the Pope passed by no more than 15 feet in front of me. But I didn’t bring my camera. I chose not to bring my camera because I chose not to be a tourist at mass. Instead I focused on how awesome it is to be Catholic and celebrate mass in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome with the Pope.
Mass was said/sung in Latin and I followed along in the 110 page mass book. (Just this one mass was in the book). Two Monsignors were being ordained as bishops, one from the US and the other from Poland, so the first and second readings were in English and Polish, respectively. The only other time the mass deviated from Latin was for Pope Benedict’s homily, which he delivered in Italian. There was no accompanying translation (I guess he didn’t want to be restricted to the text or give any spoilers), but I was able to gather the message of turning yourself to God and knowing that there is more to be offered than just that material world. Communion was weird, but efficient. EMCs came up the center aisle, but there were barriers to prevent people from running up to the Pope, so you just had to shuffle through your row to the closest EMC. Running time was about two and a half hours, and when we exited the basilica, all of St. Peters square was filled with people and I had a moment of, “oh snap. All these people were watching outside and I was inside with the Pope. Pinch me.
The rest of the day was information sessions and free time where we explored Rome. Saturday was more information sessions and in the afternoon we had the opportunity to explore our neighborhoods with those living in it. (Mine is Prati, northwest of the Tevere) Prati is a beautiful neighborhood; I found mine and other’s houses with ease and located the most efficient route to school. When a few students stopped for a quick bite, my friend Alyssa and went looking for the nearest church to her house and stumbled upon La Basilica Parrochiale S. Giuseppe al Trionfale. (Parish Church of St. Joseph) It was so beautiful and somewhat special to be in the church of St. Joseph, so I said a prayer and dropped a euro in the automated candle machine (they abandoned traditional candles), but it didn’t light. Somewhat disappointed but nonetheless excited, we hurried back to our friends who hadn’t known we were gone.
On Sunday we checked out of the hotel and schlepped our stuff fifteen minutes back to school where our host families would pick us up that evening. A group of us went to mass at a church two blocks from school, though no one was too sure of the name. (I think it is very possible it was Our Lady of Perpetual Help because the icon of Mary holding the baby Jesus looked verrrrry familiar.) Mass in Italy is a whole new ballgame. First, the phrase “late arriving crowd” would be an understatement. At least thirty people came in after mass began and as many as ten with less than 10 minutes before communion. Then communion. You’d think there was a shortage on the Body of Christ. This one lady was up out of her seat and down the aisle before the priest even made it around the altar. Lines don’t exist in Italy, it’s a free for all there are no traffic patterns. Then as soon as the deacon announced that mass had ended, those thirty people that came after mass began were gone before the organ could even start playing. I almost forgot to mention the tourist walking through the church and taking pictures in the middle of mass. I guess its just another day in the eternal city.
I napped hard through lunch then grabbed a quick bite before our final information session about living with our families. Eight of us then ran out to grab gelato before out families arrived to pick us up at 6.
I hope that wasn’t too much to read at once. I tried to break it up in a logical manner; it was just tough to blog with limited time and access to my computer and no internet connection.
Next Time on Un Semestre All’Estero:
Giuseppe’s prima notta con Maria Luisa
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