Roaming in Rome

I think my body has finally grown accustomed to life here in Rome.  I am eating somewhat of a large lunch and beginning to feel like eating very little for supper.  I feel like I am consuming more calories on a daily basis now due to oils, sugar, fatty meats and the like than I have ever consumed in my life.  However, with all of the walking that I’m doing I feel as though I’ve lost again the near 15 lbs I picked up in the Thanksgiving-Christmas-New Year’s season and then some.

Speaking of walking, I am also beginning to get accustomed to going everywhere on foot.  It’s been somewhat of a challenge for my left leg because I went through a period there while I was at home where I got out and walked very little, and then one must always walk on pavement of some sort here that is commonly uneven.  First, my knee gave me a little bit of trouble, then my ankle for a few days.  My hip joint decided to join the ensemble about two weeks into my stay here and has only within the last few days ceased aching to beat the band.

A number of you have asked me how the weather is here.  I think I would have to say it’s like coastal Carolina–mild, sunny, with an occasional strong wind blowing in from off the water.  There have been a couple of cold days here, but they’ve all been very pleasant nonetheless because the sun shines on a regluar basis.  I thank the good Lord that I’ve been at home and here as opposed to being back at Steubenville.  In Steubenville this time of year you might get half a day’s sunshine only to atone for it with three or more weeks of heavy cloud cover with gravy’s consistency.  I think things start to change pretty significantly once you start heading for the Apennine mountains.  They are about as far from here as the Brushies are from the Blue Ridge, and from certain places in Rome you can see them in the distance.  Sometimes they look so familiar that I almost think I am at home–it’s no wonder to me that N. Carolina has made such advances in viticulture over the last couple of decades.

Mr. Magee said this would be good blog material, so I’d like to share a story with you.  I’ve now ridden on a motorino (the motor scooters that I think at least 2 million of Rome’s 3 million own).  I got in from class shortly after 12 last Tuesday when I heard Vittorio talking to Mr. Magee at his office door.  Before I knew it I heard “Cesare!”  I ran to Mr. Magee’s door, only to be confronted with Vittorio shouting something at me in Italian all the while Mr. Magee has a wry look in his eye.  “Vittorio’s going to the Tabacchi to buy cigarette’s, why don’t you ride with him?”  I acquiesce without too much hesitation thinking to myself, “How bad could it be?”  That was my first mistake.

We go outside and Vittorio pulls up the seat of the scooter and pulls out two helmets.  Next he whips out this pair of sunglasses that are so big that they put me in mind of a pair of sunglasses that I saw Fred Dryer wearing on an episode of “Hunter.”  Next he tells me to hop on.  I do, and away we go!  I will say this of the experience, that I am glad the Tabacchi is only like a 1 minute ride from our house.  Vittorio, as I found out too late, drives with every bit as much of the “vigor” as any of the other crazy scooter drivers one sees here in Rome.  I think I remember him nearly taking some pedestrians out on a crosswalk…

Well, on another note about Vittorio:  If he was at all initially suspicious of me wanting to help in the kitchen when I arrived, I was inducted into the circle of trust just a couple of days ago.  We’ve established a schedule.  If I’m to observe and help him prepare pranzo, he told me that I needed to be ready to go every morning at 10 o’clock.  I told him that I could do it everyday except Tuesday because I had class–he seemed content with that.  Thus, I am finally learning to cook like a Roman (he refuses to make certain things because they come from other parts of Italy) and he’s not trying to hide anything from me…only I’ve been sworn to secrecy. 

  He told me the other day (through Sallie) that he had me figured out.  “You’re going to take all the knowledge you’re picking up here,” he said through a smile, “and open a restuarant when you get home!”  Seriously, though, working with him is often interesting for more reasons than learning to cook…he can be a real wild card.  I could fall from grace and gain redemption all on the same day.  He’ll say, “Maledetto, Cesare!” (Damn, Cesare!), and then he’ll call me his “grande aiutante.” (Good assistant).  He’ll order me around as though he owned me, and then he’ll feed me tidbits of his ingredients and preparations as a father might feed his starving child.  The list could go on, but there’s definitely never a dull moment.  For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Italian…

I wanted to tell you that I joined the choir at the Angelicum.  The last time I was in a choir at a school was back at Forbush High.  I had forgotten just how much I enjoyed singing in a large group like that.  I saw the poster up at school for a couple of weeks and I toyed with the idea in my mind, and then decided against it–besides that I had signed up for Adoration during the time that they were practicing.  However, a couple of weeks ago I was at Adoration and I heard them singing (their rehearsal room is right next door to the Adoration chapel), and I changed my mind.  I went that very evening and changed my time for Adoration.  We’re supposed to have a few performances throughout this semester, I’m just not exactly sure when they are just yet.  Anyway, it’s also a chance to meet some more and different people.  Today I ended up having a cappucino at the Angelicum’s coffeehouse with one of the sopranos (no pun intended) named Sylvia.  She’s from a town on the east coast of Italy along the Adriatic Sea named Ancona, and from what I could gather she’s studying pretty much the same things us Franciscan students are though she called it Religious Science. 

Last Friday morning, my one of my friends from Steubenville, Devon, came for a visit.  It was nice to have a visit from her for several reasons–chief among them being that she is a light-hearted character and she’s a familiar and welcome face from among those at home.  We all had a pleasant, yet all too short, visit with her until Tuesday when she had to go back to the States   Any others of you who will, come over and join us for a little while!  We’d love to have you!  You know, if you happen to find a thousand or so extra dollars hidden between the cushions on the sofa or something like that.

Left to Right: Devon, Mario, Chris, and me.

Later, I went with Tina, John, Mario, and Chris to the Catacombs of Callixtus which is on the Appian way not too far outside the old wall of Rome.  Seeing the Catacombs of Callixtus was a little less exciting than Priscilla’s the other week because we were rushed through them even more and very little was explained about them.  We did, however, see where the bones of St. Cecilia (the patroness of Music) were discovered.  There is a monument to her in that spot.  Afterward we moved on to the Bascilica of St. Sebastian, but we did not go into the catacombs that are located there because it was getting close to closing time, and once you’ve seen catacombs they all pretty much start to look the same. 

The shrine of St. Sebastian

Close up on St. Sebastian

My favorite part of this trip, however, was just the taking of a reprieve from the urban and venturing off into the rural.  On our way to the catacombs of Callixtus, we came across a small walled field filled with sheep.  It looked as though a number of them had recently birthed because there were a lot of little lambs running around too.  I was half inclined to go up and nab one of them for my future hobby farm (wishful thinking?) and because they were just so cute!!!  (Unfortunately, there was a hawk-eyed shepherd standing nearby.)  Then, after we’d taken our tours, we took a long walk along the Appian Way.  How lovely it was!  My soul was more refreshed in seeing open fields, grass, flowers, hearing birds chirp etc. than by anything I think I could find in the city proper.

Rome from a distance.

This past Sunday night, I went with John to a Byzantine Liturgy.  This was my first ever, and in hindsight I could kick myself for not having taken the opportunity to go to one while I was in Weirton.  (In Weirton, there was supposed to be a Byzantine parish just down the road from where I lived.)  For those of you who are not familiar with what I’m talking about, I’m talking about one of the many Rites within the Catholic Church.  I am a member of the Latin Rite, which is (I’m working on an assumption here) what most people think of when they think of “Catholicism.”  While it’s true that (this is also an estimation) probably 9 out of 10 Catholics belong to the Latin Rite, “Roman Catholicism,” as I’ve heard it many times erroneously applied, does not equal “Catholicism.”  If one looks on any of the Church’s official documents, he will never find the ”Roman” Catholic Church.  To do so would be to the exclusion of our brothers (there are many other Rites beyond the Byzantine) who belong to eastern Rites, have liturgical celebrations and traditions that are just as ancient as the Roman, and are just as much a Catholic as those who belong to the Latin Rite.  (I didn’t really know all of this stuff until I got to graduate school!)  All of this is to say that the experience was something utterly different than anything I’ve grown accustomed to in my near 6 years of being a Catholic.  All essential parts of the Liturgy were there, just carried out, expressed, etc. very differently.  I would recommend that anyone experience it at least once…preferably in English.  Well, even if it’s in a language you don’t understand it’s still pretty cool.  I won’t bother you with words, just go and see it for yourself if you get a chance.

This past Monday, I went with Tim, Mario, Devon, John, and Heidi to a Scottish Pub (N.B.–Italy doesn’t do beer so well) called “The Nag’s Head.”  There was a cover band there playing Queen, and they were awesome!  What was more impressive than the sound was the fact that the main singer had the whole Freddy Mercury persona down!  (Pete, you should have been there!)  As you might have expected, they played Bohemian Rhapsody, and then a sprinkling of some more common ones mixed with some I’d never heard before.  I felt sort of cheated, though, because I wanted to hear Bicycle Race, and John and I both wanted to hear Fat-Bottomed Girls.

On St. Patrick’s day, we did something very suitable for the occasion.  We went to the Pontifical Irish College after class to see a play that the seminarians who live there were putting on.  It was an Irish parody of a Sherlock Holmes mystery.  Sherlock’s Irish counterpart is called fittingly enough, Shamrock Holmes, and this was the mystery of The Emerald Jewel.  If you’ve ever read the Sherlock Holmes collection and are either a hardcore buff (such as my friend Pete) or simply a big fan of them (like myself), then you would have been delighted in seeing the elements of the characters, plot, etc. that they preserved to the letter and those that they gave an “Irish nuance.”  It proved an enjoyable evening–and I decided that it’s been way too long since I’ve gone to a live play.

Until next time,

Cesare