Dissappear

I keep on coming back to the idea of the “weight of history” that Romans must constantly feel. They live in a city that was the center of the world for a long time that can never be matched.

Before I left I was watching Oprah. It’s her last season in the US and she was talking to J.K. Rowling of Harry Potter fame about having something to utterly amazing, like her TV show and Rowling’s books, and not wanting to feel like she is forever chasing that dream of doing something better than what she already created. I think the Romans must live in a world like that. They walk around their neighborhoods and go to their markets on roads that have existed for almost forever. Even I feel it, whenever I go anywhere in this city I can only think about the people who did this before me; whether it was the day before or a few centuries ago, someone else did this. There is nothing new here, history only can repeat itself so many times before it’s not even repetition, it’s stops existing in a linear manner and everything happens at once. 

Like the last sentence of 100 Years of Solitude by Marquez, “Before reaching the final line…he had already understood that he would never leave that room, for it was foreseen that the city of mirrors (or mirages) would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men… and that everything written on them was unrepeatable since from time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth."

Rome can never be what it once was. Once I realized that this entire place makes more sense.

I took my first trip outside of Roma this weekend, a few of us from the program went up to Florence on Friday and came back tonight.

I noticed two major things.

1) That city is almost as obsessed with Dante and I am. Which is saying something. It was amazing, I got to see his house, his church, where Beatrice is buried. I actually hugged the walls of his church, I hugged something Dante could had touched and I got to recite part of Canto I of Inferno in front of his house. AND I saw the painting that was the cover of the Cambridge Companion to Dante reader I poured over in the fall. Even the fresco in the Duomo is Dantean in nature.

and

2) I missed Rome. Florence is beautiful, but Roma, how I missed thee. Never have I been so happy to hop on the 170 and watch as the bus wind it's way through the city center, across the river to Via Marconi, get off and head directly into Pong (the gelato place outside of my apartment building) before coming back to my room and just looking at the city. It's chaotic and insane here but even being away for three days made me miss it. And I've only been here two weeks.

 What up Dante's house?

The view from the top of the Duomo. 

Where I want to live.

Radio

Moment of uber culture shock.

I'm standing in the supermarket, the one a few blocks down is tiny. It's basically the size of the Eagle's Nest AU people. And it's always packed and it's always confusing. Today I wandered in with a vague outline of what I wanted to make for dinner, figure out how to purchase chicken from the butcher in the back and put together some semblance of a meal that does not center around Ernesto Sauce and pasta (though I did end up getting Pastina and what I think is chicken broth.  I'm still not sure). After almost causing an international crisis when I tried to purchase produce without weighing/pricing it first I'm terrified of buying anything. Anything.

It's such a surreal feeling, standing in this tiny little market using a plastic gloved hand to pick out pepper and spinach, totally lost to any conversations floating around you and then The Fray come on the radio. A sudden English interjection in a completely Italian world. It's bewildering, I had mentally prepared myself before leaving the apartment for a complete immersion and then it wasn't. Not necessarily a letdown but something jarring.

There was this adorable little boy named Gabriel with his father in front of me in line. The dad kept on calling the little boy "amore" and little Gabriel would come running back into line from the display of candy.

All my lovely roomies are at our culture class currently, so I spent the afternoon food shopping and trying to finally put my room together. And pretending to do my Italian homework.

So now I'm off to make what I am hoping is chicken breasts in maybe a butter and white wine sauce.  But I'm just making this up as I go. I need Matt for these elaborate meals involving complex sauces.

I'm also teaching myself how to type properly because I apparently do it incorrectly. Only one space after a sentence! When did that happen? It's infuriating.

I'm currently still in the middle of "Decoded". It's amazing, all I want to do is read rap lyrics and dissect them.

Also: Go Pack Go!

Update : Dinner was delicious. I would have taken a picture but we ate it too fast.

Ice Cream Truck

I really like food. If all I had in the world was books and food I would be pretty happy, all things considered. Since we haven't really started classes yet I'm teaching myself to eat because clearly no Americans really know how to. Last night we went out in search of a taverna to watch the Roma v Lazio game and ended up at a resturant a few blocks from out apartment.  We arrived around nine and didn't leave until midnight. It was perfect, we were the only english speakers in the place and though our three days of Italian classes made communication interesting it was amazing. We were one of the last groups to leave, it is what I think quintessential Roman dinners are like, course after course and the best white wine I have ever had. It was perfect. Delicious and perfect.

I think I've eaten pizza and gelato every day and at least one espresso or cappuccino, usually two.  It's amazing. This place is so hard in so many ways but the world stops whenever you enter  tiny family owned bar and order a caffe. We had a few places we visit nearly everyday and the owners know us and joke with us whenever we come in. Minnesota nice is put to shame here. I struggle to order with correct pronunciation as often as I can and I'm only met with smiles and encouraging eyes.

Yesterday was the first of the programs core course "At Home in Rome: Modern Life in the Eternal City". It's going to be brillant. We spend the classes on site most of the time, visiting different neighborhoods and learning history, culture, everything that makes Rome tick. Our professor is especially interested in the Roma and she's a sociology phD and is really cool.  We went to the old slaughterhouse which is part Kurdish Refugee camp and part an area sort of like Eastern Market in DC.  It's covered with graffiti and parts of it are run down and the other half is brand new.  Gentrification and all that, so the class is quite politically charged.  Being me, I just stay out of it and focus instead on visiting the protestant graveyard whre Shelly and Keates are buried!

My professor knew Im a Literature major so when we arrived at the cemetery she took me right to Shelly's grave.

Some background information about me and Percy.  I once wrote a paper for Dr. Kay on his song "The Indian Girl's Song" or "The Indian Serenade" depending on what edition you are reading.  It's beautiful. Sad and tragic and beautiful.

So my professor and I are standing there, I'm on the brink of tears with this brand new professor and I just had this near spiritual moment where I was overwhelmed with emotion and it hit me - I'm living in Rome.

And then I recited the first stanza and my professor just looked at me and slowly backed away.  Not really, but it was REALLY nerdy.  And then I found a euro coin with Dante on it and I freaked out again and it was amazing.

Roma won last night.  Yay Totti.

Here's the poem:

"I arise from dreams of thee

In the first sweet sleep of night,

When the winds are breathing low,

And the stars are shining bright.

I arise from dreams of thee,

And a spirit in my feet

Hath led me -- who knows how?

To thy chamber window, Sweet!

 

The wandering airs they faint

On the dark, the silent stream--

And the Champak's odours fail

Like sweet thoughts in a dream;

The nightingale's complaint,

It dies upon her heart,

As I must on thine,

O belovèd as thou art!

 

O lift me from the grass!

I die! I faint! I fail!

Let thy love in kisses rain

On my lips and eyelids pale.

My cheek is cold and white, alas!

My heart beats loud and fast:

O press it to thine own again,

Where it will break at last!"

Ego

(Coming up with Beyonce songs that are related to these posts is exhausting)

First dinner of Roma is done!

Yesterday we took a trip to the Italian countryside (45 min outside of Rome) to an Agurotourismo farm.  We learned all about wine making and how they grow things in Italy before a delicious lunch and then pasta making lessons, which I was clearly all over.  My noodles turned out pretty well so tonight I cooked my first meal in Roma.

Needless to say, it's delicious.  I bought some tomatoes and fresh broccoli from the farm, so I sauted that with olive oil and garlic, salt and pepper before adding the cooked noodles and tossed it lightly in the pan.  That and a glass of wine from the farm completes one of the best meals I have ever cooked.  It's so simple and delicious, better than anything in the states.  The food here is so fresh, there are no preservatives so you buy everything right before you cook it and you can really taste the difference.  Amazingly good.

Today we had the first part of our accademic orientation and though classes don't offically start until the 31st, we met with some professors today and out language classes start tomorrow as does our core course "Living in Rome: Life in the Eternal City" which I have tomorrow.  Being me, I am excited about learning both the language and about the history of Roma.  Even the business classes sound interesting - the excursion for one of my classes is to Sicily to learn about how the Mafia does business.

There are also lots of Godfather refrences here.

Today Alice, Annie, Rachel and I were wandering around campus, just getting a feel for the area surrounding the university.  There is, like there is in much of Rome, a giant church accross the road from Roma Tre.  We had an hour or so to kill so we ventured over, never expecting to find such a beautiful building.  The outside is run down but the inside - it's the Church of Saint Paul whose like #2 after Peter if your RC.  Underneath the alter is his grave (WHICH IS CRAZY).  If you remember, after JPJ II died, there was this big CNN crisis about this church in Rome where all the Popes headshots are and there were only a few more spots left in the church and Wolf Blitzer was freaking out because after all the spots are taken it's the end of the world!  Anyways, that's the church where all the pictures are.  So all the Popes are up on those walls.  And there are 27 more spots left so hopefully the end isn't all that nigh.  It's beautiful though, if there is one thing the Catholic Church can do well is make beautiful churches.

Which I can't seem to upload now because chrome is being lamesauce.  Hopefully Pope pictures soon!

Greenlight

I sit typing this in my apartment in Roma, my window looking into a tiny alleyway where old women push babies in strollers and cats walk along the tops of fences.  Rome has been described as "Beautiful Chaos" and, if nothing else, the drive from the airport to our apartments perfectly embodied this idea.

Rome is gritty and dirty, the faces of the people who walk the streets here are not exactly twisted in a scowl, but there is a weight on the people who live here.  There is a certain sense of history that they cannot escape; the burden of living in a city that has been bustling for more than two millenium is evident in almost all aspect of life in this city.  Ancient graffiti covers every available space and while sirens wail and trucks thunder past.  Rome is not a place for peace and tranquility, it is a place of activity and constant motion.

Our flight landed and Will, Alice and I made our way through customs and baggage claim and met up with a women from the University named Susan.  We then borded a bus that ten or so other members of our program were already on, half asleep.  The drive into Rome proper from DaVinci was almost silent, we were all exhausted and the beauty of Italy captivated all of us.

Alice and mine's apartment which we share with two other girls, one of whom has yet to arrive, was the second stop the bus made.  After a minor problem with the key to enter into our apartment, we entered our home for the next four months.

We live in a building with all other Italian families, people who live in the Trastevere district.  Our apartment is right off a pretty big plaza and shops and cafe's line the street.  It's picturesque and coated with a film of exhaust.  We grabbed a bit to eat and drink at the cafe on the ground floor of our apartment and set off to visit another apartment shared by five girls in our program.

Walking around Rome is akin to a real life game of frogger.  Traffic rules are invented as one drives and walking is precarious.  I get to cross the Tiber whenever I walk to class.  How amazing is that?  The Tiber.  You know who drank and swam in the Tiber?  Casear.  And who wrote about the Tiber?  Virgil.  The Tiber is one of the four rivers that Dante through created a corner of the earth.  DC is historic, Rome is legend.

Broken-Hearted Girl

In the odd way that the universe likes to handle itself, there has been a major snafu in the plan to send Italy's lost daughter back to the motherland.


Dad is back in the hospital.


It sucks, but this is not the forum to cry over spots on an MRI.  As of right now he's still gung-ho for me to make my triumphant return to the hills of Roma.  So I guess the five day countdown can begin again.  This is just freshman spring déjà vu.  Except I'll be living in a different country.


I ran into Barnes and Noble a few days ago on a lark and ended walking out with Virgil's Aeneid.  Honestly, I had no intention of walking into the store and purchasing that text per say, but after mulling over the new biography of Cleopatra (which I have since purchased for my Kindle, I didn't even think it was going to relate to Rome so clearly I need to revisit my Bard) I wandered over to the B&N classics section.  Being a moderately pretentious literature major I, of course, have known I've needed to read this text forever.  I've just never gotten around to it.  But after a semester of Dante basically drooling over everything this man ever touched I figured now was as good of any to read the way Augustus by way of Virgil envisioned the creation of the Roman Empire.  I just got through some bits at the beginning, historical notes, the life of Virgil, ect, but it's shaping up to be an interesting text.  And, if nothing else, it's just one more epic poem I can bring up at dinner parties.  I should have just been a classics major.


Packing Panic is making me sick.  The number of converters I think I now own is astonishing, my room is fraught with items I may or may not need in the coming months and I have visions of my suitcase being so filled with things and I'll just have to purchase an entire new wardrobe in Italy.  Like a former teacher told me last night when I was back visiting De, "Just bring an empty suitcase.  Fill it with shoes."


Thanks Mr. Casey.  You're just enabling an addict.


Update:


My Dad did indeed have another stroke.  Italy is now up in the air.