When the plane landed I looked out the window at fields and plains. Dark green grass lined the edges of golden plots if field, which made me tear up thinking of home.
When people write about traveling, often it's about fun adventures or wondrous and exotic sights. It seems so romantic, and much of it is, however, normal life happens while traveling too. There is downtime, monotony, and stress. For us, we are at the point where we are realizing that summer at home has begun; people are starting to mobilize again and do fun things. As much as we are grateful to be having this experience we are learning more and more that relationship and community with others is the heart of life. We crave those interactions and are thankful for the people we share life with. It makes us a little homesick.
We took a bus into the centre from the airport, and when we got to our hotel, we stood at the entrance and stared. It was in an old building...without elevators. Our room was 6 stories up, and with our loaded bags it felt like Everest. I willed my legs to climb as they burned, my sandals grabbing on to each step making me stumble forward. When we finally made it up we collapsed on our bed and closed our eyes. We made it to Rome!
Our tiny postage stamp of a room was an authentic first introduction to the rest of Rome. City space is precious, and people are very industrious. Buildings and rooms are small and contained. Our hotel was actually one floor, with several other hotels in the same building renting out the other floors. On street level, most restaurants are sidewalk cafes that are served from a small kitchen, the only indoor portion. It's very different from spacious Canada.
As we lay on our bed recovering, music wafted up from the street. Through the thick black shutters on our screen less window, beautiful soprano notes snipped through the air and hovered over brass instruments. Hypnotized, we followed the sound to the street and went out to investigate.
On the frontside of the building was a long procession of people walking behind a bishop, some priests, and a group of people holding up a decorated statue of Christ, siting on a wooden throne. The woman and band were projected by wireless mics that went through portable speakers. The music cycled, giving way to unison prayer in Italian by the followers. My skin broke out in gooseflesh and I pulled my sweater snug as chills rose up my spine. The whole scene felt so foreign, but hauntingly beautiful. People observing were crying, moved by the sight, and the crowd grew as more people filed in to the street.
It was a beautiful experience; one that made me reflect on my upbringing in the Catholic Church. I heard once that all Catholics were the same- you could go across the world and rituals would be familiar. But I didn't feel that way in Rome. I often felt clumsy in the churches, and like a tourist when seeing nuns and priests in traditional garb. There was however, a small familiarity. The statues of the saints were an oddly comforting sight, as I saw familiar icons that used to hang in the house of my grandparents. As we followed the mob and listened I guessed maybe they were praying the rosary, but it was hard to tell. Nevertheless, it was breathtaking.
The next day we walked around the city and saw all of the main monuments: The Spanish Steps, Trevi fountain, Coliseum, and the Vatican.
For Steve, the most striking monument was the coliseum. It is estimated over 800,000 people died there for sport. Criminals and slaves would be purchased by the rich and sent to a training program to learn to fight and perform for crowds. They would later participate as gladiators who would battle animals or other slaves. It was quite intriguing to see, which is a small indicator of the human penchant for darkness. However, it was just mostly sad, and an eerie reminder of a bloody past.
On our last day in Rome we visited the Vatican, a place I have imagined many times. What I had not imagined, however, was the crazy line for the museum. We have been very lucky with our timing on this trip, always just on the cusp of high season. So when we arrived we were shocked. The line was a 3 hour wait. We quickly opted for a private tour, so we got to miss the line. At first we were a little weary of the expense, but in the end it was worth it. We quickly realized if we were to go on our own we would hardly know what we were looking at. Our guide told us that if one were to look at every piece for 20 seconds it would take 12 years, without sleep. Having an expert point out the highlights was great.
The tour was fantastic. Our guide was an American who has been living in Rome for 12 years. She was very knowledgeable and friendly. She focused mainly on the artwork of the Sistine Chapel, painted by Michelangelo.
She had some very interesting stories. Our favorite was how she described the painting of the chapel. Some interesting things we learned:
Michelangelo was commissioned by the pope to paint his private chapel. It is said the artist was less than thrilled with the job. He was a sculptor, not a painter, and had never attempted anything of that magnitude before. Given very specific instructions by the pope, he spent the first six months on two figures. When he completed them, he climbed off his scaffold and looked up. They were distorted because he had not calculated for the angle they would be seen from: the floor. In a fit of anger he soaked them in paint and stormed out. He basically told the Pope to stuff it, which resulted in the Pope hunting him down and dragging him back. Michelangelo agreed to paint the chapel on two conditions: when he finished he would never have to paint ever again, and he could paint whatever he wanted with artistic freedom.
It took him 5 years to finish, even though he ate and slept on the scaffolds. When he finished he had painted scenes from Genesis, with the most famous painting of God breathing life into Adam in the centre.
After the completion Michelangelo lived happily until the pope died, and the new pope commissioned him to paint a scene behind the alter. Michelangelo was not happy, but agreed. He pained a scene from the resurrection. It took him 3 years to complete. When finished there was alot of controversy over the naked figures in the painting. One of the cardinals said Michelangelo should redo it. So the artist snuck into the chapel and got his revenge. He painted the face of cardinal on the devil and gave him donkey ears. It is still there today. Later on after Michelangelo died, a new pope commissioned artists to paint clothes on the naked figures. In the restoration some have removed, but some left as a tribute to the life of the painting.
Beyond the chapel, the amount of art in the Vatican that was aquired over the years is amazing. It is no wonder the Vatican is the richest museum in the world.
The next day we headed to the train station to continue on to Naples. We really enjoyed Rome, but our feet were definitely getting a workout. We spent about 10 hours a day walking. Although there were a few things to get used to about Italy-- lack of wifi, expensive food, and a bit of a reminder of home, Rome was and amazing place to reflect on life and faith and all of those great mysteries. Even though I felt the most homesick here, it was incredible to see so many icons in person.
The street procession.
The coliseum:
Pantheon:
Trevi fountain:
Spanish steps:
The Vatican:
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