A Reflection after Two Weeks

We were assigned in my "Masterpieces of the Vatican" class to write a few pages about our initial reaction to Rome. I thought it would make for a good post.

This is not my first time in Europe, Italy, or even Rome. I was born in Germany (though I was too young to remember any of my experiences at that time) and as a child in a military household found myself back on the continent (more specifically, Holland) when I was eleven, and wouldn't leave until three years later. In that time I came to Italy for a week with my family. We flew into Rome, and spent the better part of that first day there, primarily in the Vatican. I enjoyed that day (and the week, in its entirety), but knew it was not a worthy predecessor or indicator to what my time here now will hold.

Though I am only a quarter Italian (my paternal grandmother was second generation to Chicago immigrants) it is part of my heritage I have learned to be proud of, and one of the primary reasons I chose to study here. Needless to say, grandma was pleased. Whenever I told anyone about my intended trip, the response was the same-- "Oh, Rome is the most beautiful city in the world. You will love it." Not that I had any doubts, but it was still exciting to hear. A day or two before I left a friend of my mom's stopped by with some books for me-- tourist and informational guides, for the most part, but also a novel she couldn't applaud enough. The novel was The Italians by Luigi Barzini, and after hearing her acclaim I decided it would be perfect reading for the plane.

Appropriately enough, the book begins by discussing the strange draw Italy has always had on foreigners. Its explanation of the picturesque towns, breath-taking scenery, fabulous cuisine, animated people, and overall romantic culture did nothing to put a damper on my expectation upon arrival. As of yet, I have not been disappointed.

Thus far, Rome has been the most amazing source of wonder,a we, and excitement for me. As a History major and art enthusiast, there is no end to the points of interest. An intricate fountain sitting nonchalantly in a quiet piazza, chipped frescoes above a church arch centuries old, a statue missing a nose and an arm but still beautiful and fascinating in its antiquity and the skill the produced it-- each with a story behind it. Even the trains have become canvases for artists with no resources besides an aerosol can (or perhaps simply nothing better to do with their spare time). The music from an accordion sneaks up to our classroom windows from time to time. Bands will appear out of nowhere in Campo dei Fiori and start churning out a jazzy rendition of "Somewhere over the Rainbow." A ten year old's fingers fly as he plays Vivaldi on a street corner for change. Music (with frequent beeps and honks from passing cars as percussion) is a part of Rome's soul.

That is not to say that a big city is not intimidating upon first arrival, especially with only a limited grasp on the language. The Metro/bus map looks like childish scribblings to the untrained eye (and even after having used it frequently for two weeks I don't deny having gotten lost on a bus for two ours one night). I'm still not exactly sure when the appropriate time to pay for a cappucino is (though luckily it goes down so quickly I don't think it matters). Though I feel that I'm coming along with my grasp on the Italian language, a few "puedo", "aqui", and "necesito"s still find their way out of the Spanish-speaking area of my brain from time to time. I even invented a word ("librere") when politely telling an Italian boy that no, I didn't wat to eat with him because I was going to librere on the Spanish steps.

In general, however, I have fallen in love with Rome as much as everyone said I would, and I know it will keep getting better. I can't imagine a time arising when I won't feel humbled standing next to the Colosseum. I don't foresee myself passing a talented guitarist on the ledge of a fountain without smiling. And while it's possible that at some point I might be able to utter the words, "Oh no, I couldn't possibly have any more caprese or gelato," I think I'll be a few pounds heavier before that day arrives. From the look of things, December is going to come too soon.

So that's that. We're finally getting around to the pub crawl tonight for my birthday, which should make a 6 30 wakeup time to head to Cinque Terre (yeah, I decided to go for a night) tomorrow morning fun, but hey, I'm in Rome.