Roman Holiday and a Few Mis-steps

This is not going to be another epic account of singing/dancing/painting, just an overview of a weekend in Rome and a few less than perfect Italian moments (to round everything out). This weekend I attempted to “do” Rome in a day and a half, not an easy task. My friends and I spent the first half day in Vatican City. I saw the Sistine Chapel (of course, for those of you who know me too well, I thought first of that one scene in Goodwill Hunting--maybe I’m a sad excuse for a wanna-be artist). No, I was amazed by the incredible, unbelievable amount of work that must have gone into such a huge, perfect place. My first oil still life still has many many hours to go.

Gelato! (with my friend Sam)

Me and the Vatican

Statue in St. Peter's Basillica

At night my friends allowed me to lead them guide-book in hand on the Rick Steve’s nighttime stroll through the city. Although I am not always a fan of his, I think the Rome walks are well worth the book’s purchase. In one walk, we saw several piazzas full of kissing couples and happening bars, Fontana Trevi, Scale Spagne, and the Pantheon. The following day, I hit the Colosseum, Forum (WOW), and Palatine Hill. I have to go back. In Rome, there must be a temple on every corner, and in-between each, a Baroque or Renaissance building. The city is a collage of time. Apart from my hometown, I think this wins as my favorite city. For any Csers reading from France, mi dispiace… I think Rome should win as the city of love. I will definitely store it far in my mind if/when I ever have a honeymoon. Trevi fountain by moonlight? Hello!

Good Job Rick Steves.

Since everything in life seems to be bittersweet, I think I will recount my group’s one run-in with a shady Roman and my for some reason very bothersome trials of the day. I hope I have underlined thus far that my time in Italy has been on the whole amazing. I have learned tons of Italian, art skills, and skills I never thought I needed or wanted to know (like sewing pages into a book spine or correctly using the coop fruit weighing machines in the supermarket). I’ve had that gelato that makes people want to drop it all for a home somewhere in this country and I’ve made moltissimo amici. I’ve been pretty bad at calling home and have yet to send a postcard because in general everything is going so well…sadly I most often call home when something is off. So, on the whole Italy is bellisimo. BUT life in a different country is hard and sometimes, excuse my lack of a more eloquent word, it just sucks to not get it.

Bocca di Verida

(I'm telling you the truth about Eurotrips...

it's not all gelato and good wine)

On Saturday night in Rome, my friends and I finished our walk and we had to return to our hotels (we had 2). Forewarned that the area around the train station is not known to be entirely desirable, we were cautious, but not worried. Walking from Termini, a man began to follow our group. I didn’t think much of it. He was 1 and we were 6! But then another man walked a bit too close too. I’m not sure if they were together, but we started panicking a bit. At least 2AM and we realized if something did happen, none of us even knew the number of the police in Italy (Siena is known to be the most safe city in Italy…people complain that nothing ever happens… still, now I know the number). The man made his way into our now compact group, and we weren’t sure what to do, if he had any kind of weapon or where this situation might go. I went into save us mode. I saw a hotel ahead and told the girls to just walk fast to it. The door was locked! Luckily after banging on it a receptionist came to the door to let us in. Bless Sam or slamming the door in the man’s face. In a funny mix of Italian, we explained who the guy was peering in at us outside the door, and the very understanding receptionist barked him off. The night ended fine, but I got a little reminder…on my 2 month trip coming up, I’ll think twice before walking alone late. 6 girls is one thing but I would have been much more scared if I were alone.

Now, for today. I got a library card here, because really, there’s not much I like more than a public library with Free Movies! Cookbooks! Travel Books! (even if they are in a different language). I went to the library for the first time alone and had a fiasco with the purse lockers. You’re not allowed to carry anything into the library, but have to use lockers outside with pin codes. Although later I realized there are clear instructions written in English, of course I didn’t see them and had to manage the pin-selecting machine with my 5-weeks-of-Italian-only skills. The sad thing is I am not having a hard time reading a book in Italian about Sicily and cuisine, but I can’t for the life of me use a locker machine. So I returned to my locker after selecting my movies; I didn’t know I needed to remember which locker it was. I tried about 10 different lockers with my code, and had to stand in a line about 5 times because I didn’t want people to wait, as I continuously said lo ho dimenticato (I forgot it). Eventually I asked the woman at the front desk, and she kept saying 19 to me in Italian. I thought she had seen me put my things in the locker #19, so I tried that one another 5 times (waiting 4 times in the little line to use the machine). I asked her at least 3 times, then went back to try again. Please realize how much I hate using the phrase scusi, non posso parlare molto bene (excuse me, I can’t speak very well). Oh, the look on the librarian’s face! I don’t think they see many American temporary students who actually decide to join the library system. I was an idiot. A woman behind me in line eventually described my mistake in English. At 19:00 (7pm!) they reset the lockers and I had to return. Why didn’t they use the verb tornare??? It’s the one I know! I’m not going to lie, I felt so embarrassed and like such an idiot, I started to cry walking back to school, holding tons of books without my purse. Not a happy image I know, and it doesn’t make much sense why I was so upset…I forgot a number…but it’s just so frustrating to not get something when someone tells it to your face repeatedly. I returned; the librarians saved my purse. Odio these non capisco moments! I will admit that watching a pretty bad 80s movie, War Games, from a public library in Italy quickly changed my mood. And another whole seabass on my plate tonight made me laugh. What makes you uncomfortable makes you wiser? Let’s hope so.