Romies of Tomorrow, Lend Me Your Ears!

     Once again, I see that I have not written in a disturbingly long time, and decide that I shall indeed write for you all. This post I aim toward those people who have asked me for Rome advice for the upcoming school year. I will focus here on:

Preemptive Scandalization.

     That's right. Shocking you in the comfort of your own home/college building with internet so that you know what to expect. Or some of it. God forbid we expect everything, or life would be boring to a very ghastly degree. Here are some things you should NOT expect in Italy (if you get them anyway, great! Just don't expect them) --

Personal space
Air conditioning
American-style stuff and service in general
Free water at restaurants (there actually is pretty legitimate reason why not)
On-time buses
Hard and fast rules
100% reliable public transportation
Random people (esp. older men, to you ladies) to mind their own business
Clean laundry emerging from the Candia washing machine
Screens in the windows
People to speak good English
A Communion line at Mass in an Italian church; it's more like a mob


     And some things you SHOULD expect --

Peddlers in your face
Strikes
Amazing coffee
Flirty men, both young and old
Great material for stories
Vicious line-cutting grandmas


     That's all that's come to mind at present; now I'd best be off to class. Any more such advice is more than welcome! I'll try to get around to the following topics: manners, what to bring, where to go, etc.   God bless, and buona sera!

Flashback, Romesickness, and Random Stuff

 

     One of the things I got for Christmas this year was an iTunes giftcard. (Did I get the capitalization right? I can't tell with all these i-things. It's the new e. People just like to purposefully break the rules of spelling and capitalization so-- okay, fine. I'll shut up. Pardon the English major.) The last two Christmases, I got pretty much the same thing: a number of songs which we burned to a disk. The last two discs were named "Epic Conventions" and "Song of the Spoudaios," after things I had learned about in school during the months before Christmas that year.

     This year, I had to name it after something in Rome. During a short fit of brainstorming, I thought of the dear, crowded Roman Metro, and was ECSTATIC to find this on YouTube:

     There are more weird people out there who find it funny!!! "... Destro?" Oh, the Metro. There are weird things on the Metro. Like men with noserings; feminine noserings, like the kind Indian women wear. What's always lovely are those times when it's so packed, that you're literally PUSHED into the Metro by the people behind you, and you end up standing on the thing with a couple strangers against you. Those are the times when you most need your sense of humor. And you're hand by your money. The bus, too. Ah, those few times when five people get OFF the bus to let a sixth person off, and then the first five get back on again. Metro does that, too. And let's not forget Rubicchio, either. Our good, time-traveling buddy.

 

http://www.rubicchio.it/

 

     Oh, Rome. The buildings, the churches, the cappuccini, the cornetti, the nutella-filled pastries, the kebabs... In case I've not explained, a kebab is NOT a shish-kabob. A kebab is mystery meat (okay, so it's lamb, but it looks suspicious at first glance) drizzled with ranch-yogurt sauce and wrapped in tortilla alongside french fries and cole slaw. WHY is that not only edible, but good? It shouldn't be, but it's soooo good. Man, I really want one, now. The meat is in a huge round... block, or something, turning on a vertical spit, and they shave it off with a device that looks like a sander or a staple-gun.

     And speaking of food, I have to go get some. Signing off for now!

Capitoline Museum

     Well, this is a post that has been a draft for way too long. Without further ado, here is a messy and bare-bones version of what we did at the Capitoline museum:

     Capitoline Museum, nice area of town; weather is gross and sticky and I never knew this, but I love AC. (This was a Friday in mid-September. The Italians aren't exactly big users of Air Conditioning, and walking almost everywhere meant that you got even warmer and stickier.) The bus and the museum went on strike, so we had to be kicked out and we couldn't go down into the forum. Statues: the emperor from Gladiator (Commodus) dressed up as Hercules; "Constantine the Leper" as Prof. Lev dubbed it (pieces of a HUGE statue of Constantine); the dying Gaul, whom Andrew Hepler looks like now. This was the first public museum and it was opened by Pope Sixtus IV. Pliny’s doves, it’s a mosaic, even though it doesn’t look like one; it’s really good. The day before--- nothing happened Thursday, save that I scared Zach and Brizek by sneaking up behind them and pretending I was a tour guide. They fell for it. :D

     I apologize for the poor state of this post, but I know all too well that if I don't put it up as is, I'll just keep procrastinating. Enjoy the pictures at least!

. . . Amusing . . . This actually isn't part of Constantine the Leper

Bust of Hadrian

She-wolf with Romulus and Remus, who were added on at a much later date

Marcus Aurelius

Commodus dressed as Hercules

View of the Roman Forum from the Museum

Pliny's Doves, mosaic. Sorry I couldn't get a better shot. This is when we were getting kicked out.

My Last Sunday

     Today is my last Sunday in Rome. It's pretty sad, even though I'm fairly ready to go back home. I went to Mass at St. Peter's today, the last Sunday Mass at my special parish. Turns out that today is the Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica (St. Peter's), so they had special choir pieces for Mass, as well as a program that I got to keep. :-D  I always love those. You can't keep the ones for normal Sunday Masses because they reuse them.

     Celebrating Mass were a cardinal, 15-20 monsignors and bishops, and 40 priests. Helping with Mass were 10-20 altar servers, the choir, and sundry Vatican workers.

     Oh, those Vatican workers. Those dear, dear Vatican workers. Some are helpful, some are not. Some are young, some are old. Some wear this kind of suit, some wear that kind of suit. Some are cranky, some are normal, and some are flirts. (Really, though, they have nothing else to do while they are standing around. And they ARE "Romantics" in one sense of the word.) We have the grouchy guy very annoyed at everyone trying to get in through the exit, and then we have the guys who welcome you into Mass with (literally) open arms, slight bows, sweeping gestures, and smiles. They make you feel like a VIP when you do that, especially when you see that the same guys in uniform suits just stopped five other people from coming in. (If it's clear that you don't want to go to Mass but only want to explore and take pictures, they won't let you in. It's really good, though. Helps keep a proper atmosphere for the people who want to pray and go to Mass.) Don't expect such treatment unless you're a young woman without male companions, by the way. If you're a guy, they might be polite and nice to you, but not half so much as they would to a girl. That's the way things work here in Italy. In France, too. And probably Spain, but I can't say. (But hey, at least you guys don't have 40 year old men hitting on you. :-P )

     In fact, I think we made this particular guy's day. The ushers at St. Peter's walk through the aisles when taking up the collection (the pews are farther apart there than they are at home, so there's room), so they are right in front of you when you do or don't put money in. Well, Katie Shannon and I managed to cough up all of eleven cents, it being our last Sunday in Rome and all. Putting in those three measley coins somehow made the usher break into a big smile. (I'd like to point out that he was a young usher. The ushers usually are young. Probably because they have an easier time weaving through the pews and stepping over coats and purses than the older guys.)

The cardinal blessing us after Mass

     I'll miss the silly Vatican workers, even the ones with the awful Italian haircut that has been dubbed the "Lazy Mohawk." I'll even miss the policemen who kick me out of the square and the guys who insist, "Prego," that I leave this area of the church to clear the way for the next Mass.

     I'll miss having the Gospel sung, having plenty of priests, having incense, having Latin. I'll miss the Pope.

      Speaking of the Pope, I went to the Pope's saying of the Angelus, which he does every Sunday and then blesses everybody from his window.

     Just now I got back from Vespers sung in French by the Community of Jerusalem at Trinita Dei Monti, the church at the top of the Spanish Steps. It was lovely, although just before going in to Vespers I had to say "Basta" (in the leave-me-alone sense) for the first time: Some genius vendor sees me sitting on the steps, and decides to say "Miss!" Not having the decency to note the fact that I was ignoring him and then act accordingly, he shines one of those laser-toys in my face and says, "Hellooooooo!" Therefore, I said "Basta." He acted confused, "Basta?" (As if he didn't know what that meant....!) Then I got up and left in a dignified and justified huff.

     Back to Vespers: It was very nice to hear French again. There's something calm about read French in comparison to read Italian.

     And now, back to studying and my Chicken Cordon Bleu.

 

My favorite side chapel in Trinita Dei Monti. Indeed, one of my
favorite side chapels ever. Other favorites are the Adoration chapel
 at St. Peter's and the chapel of Santa Maria in Cosmedin which houses
St. Valentine's skull.

 

The Rest of the Last Free Weekend

     Here I shall tell to ye the rest of my doings this past weekend. (Monday was a part of this weekend, by the way.)

     Saturday, my roommate and I went to Largo Argentina. Largo Argentina is a small group of ruins between Castel Sant'Angelo and the Pantheon where a lot of stray cats live. No, I'm not making this up. See for yourself:

 

 

 

 

     That afternoon, I went to Santa Maria in Trastevere, a church with some very cool gold-background mosaics.

 

Apse (dome behind the altar)

 

Facade of the church

     From thence I headed to San Pietro in Montorio, which is in the same part of Rome. However, I could not get into the church itself, which was annoying, because I have to learn about that church in order to complete some of my homework. At least I did get a very cool view from the hill it was on. I also found the only piece of funny graffiti I've ever seen. I think it's been here for a while, because I'm pretty sure I've seen someone else's picture of it.

     Sunday I rose later than I wanted to, heard there was a thunderstorm, and justified my going back to bed by telling myself that I did not want to walk to St. Peter's in the middle of a thunderstorm because that would be imprudent. Thus Sunday turned into a very lazy day indeed, and I did not go to Mass until 5:30 pm. I went for the first time to the church that is just down the block from our hotel, Santa Maria delle Gratzie. Italians are very unorganized and disunified. At almost any given point in Mass, there was one person standing, one person sitting, and sometimes one person kneeling. They can't make up their minds as a whole! I am not rebuking for the elderly people sitting while other people were standing. I am against perfectly healthy looking people under 60 sitting when they should be standing or kneeling, standing when they should be sitting or kneeling. The hymns had terrible melodies. They were strange, did not follow normal song procedure, and when the cantor sung them, it didn't even sound like normal Italian. It was unclear singing that echoed at lot. Bottom line: I am very glad that I decided almost immediately that St. Peter's was to be my parish, and not the church down the street. Yes, you have to get up earlier, walk farther, and wait in line to get into church, but it's so worth it.

     Sunday night, I ended up "circumnavigating" Vatican City without fully intending to. I was just walking around with some of the Rome group and chatting, and then it was like, "Let's go this way, I've never been this way. Ah, sure. Why not?" Then we saw that we were already at the back of St. Peter's, so we HAD to keep going all the way around so we could say that we walked around a country. They say it's a two mile walk. It took about an hour to an hour and a half. Didn't really keep track of the time.

     Monday morning, I had planned only to go to a “normal” Mass at St. Peter’s and then talk to Fr. Bergida (the priest who led us on Pilgrimage Week at the beginning of the semester and whom we see at least once a week). What actually happened was quite different, but really cool: We got in line to see if we could catch the Ukrainian Catholic Mass which was being celebrated for the Feast of St. Josephat, who is buried in St. Peter’s. St. Josephat was martyred sometime between 1500 and 1700 for trying to bring the Eastern Orthodox church back to the Pope. “He was called the ‘Thief of Souls,’ he was so successful,” said Fr. While in line, we met these Americans who wanted their picture taken with Fr. (not sure why, I mean, they were Catholics, so it’s not like they never see priests, but anyway).

     We only made the end… less than half of Mass. We got there sometime during the Liturgy of the Eucharist. This was the first non-Latin Rite Mass I’ve ever been to, so that was really exciting. I’ve been wanting to go to a Byzantine Rite Mass (not the same as Ukrainian Rite, but close, I’m sure) for a long, long time. The Mass was either in Greek or Ukrainian; I couldn’t tell. I want to say it was in both languages. It was celebrated by—unless we are gravely mistaken—the Metropolitan of the Rite, the bishop in the black and white vestment with the crown.

Picture from the Papal Mass in early October

 

     There was a lot of singing during Mass, both chanting and polyphony. The choir was a good choir, though small; I only wish I could have understood what they were singing. Receiving Communion was a very different experience. The Eastern Rites use leavened bread, not wafers, and one always receives Communion under both species, the Body and the Blood—at the same time. I couldn’t see whether the wine and water were poured into a ciborium, or the bread was put into a chalice; both species were in a cup-like vessel, and you were given Communion with a shallow spoon. No, you did NOT close your mouth on the spoon. You also didn’t say anything before you received, unlike the Latin Rite, where the priest says “The Body/Blood of Christ,” and we say “Amen.” Speaking of which, they pronounce it “Ameen.”  I learned that they really do bow and bless themselves a lot during Mass. I remember reading the rubric (right word??) for the Byzantine Liturgy at some point in high school, and I noticed a lot of symbols that indicated that the Sign of the Cross was to be made. I thought, “Man, that’s a lot of times. I doubt they really do it every time it says to.” Well, they do. They also bow when they do it, and they make it differently than we do. They touch their shoulders in the opposite order of the Latin Rite.
     After Mass, prayer in front of St. Josephat's tomb, and the chat with Fr., I had coffee at a new place which Fr. recommended. It was on the expensive side, though. That's one of the great things about All Brothers': they are the only coffee place that close to the Vatican that doesn't jack its prices way up. Most of the other places near the Vatican do.
     Last night was even MORE excitement: I got to hear the Westminster Cathedral and Pontifical Sistine Choirs live at St. Mary Major, free. It was part of a Vatican-sponsored festival. They were truly amazing. I was so happy to see all the little boys being normal little boys: talking nervously among themselves, squirming... I have disliked boys' choirs, but the voices last night were angelic, particularly this one boy who hit a very high note, held it, and was clear the entire time. That was during "Christus Vincit," arranged by James MacMillan, who is actually a modern composer. I tried to put the video directly into the post, but it was taking way too long. The song is longer than a normal song on the radio or a Sunday hymn would be, but I encourage you to listen. It's quite unique.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqNVgHYZtIY 

Ceiling in St. Mary Major

Choirs :)

     So there we have my weekend! I got to do some things that I've been wanting to do for a while, and some things that I'd never thought about doing, but were amazing nonetheless.

San Giovanni e Fontana di Trevi

     Sitting in the Metro, the infamous sound was heard yet again: "Prossima fermata: Barberini, Fontana di Trevi. Uscita lado... destro?"

     That being said, I went to the Trevi Fountain today; but that was about the last thing I did.

     This being my last free weekend (second to last weekend, period) in Rome, I planned on sleeping very little and running about lots. Did that happen? Not really.

     I got up late, got coffee at All Brothers, bumped into an older American couple who confused me, was asked by the owners if I was from Boston, got a Corrieri della Sera paper for Daddy, and asked some Vatican workers for the Cupola hours.

     Came back to mine room, and left shortly thereafter for St. John Lateran, which was happily was on the red Metro line, not the blue line. Went to St. John Lateran and took pictures. I really was not terribly impressed with most of the church. It just seemed too... normal. The side chapels and the apse were lovely, however. The outside was cool as well, and it looked an awful lot like the facade of St. Peter's. It was nice to not have to wait in line to get in, like you do to get into St. Peter's and Notre Dame. However, the scarf salesmen were quite obnoxious outside the Lateran. Well, they weren't bothersome and frightening, but neither did they leave us alone the way that the ones along the Vatican Walls do. Then again, those ones probably know us all and know that we won't buy anything.

Apse with golden mosaic and awesome altar

Gate of a side chapel

     The next stop was this multi-level department store nearby. We had fun staring at ugly clothes and pretty Christmas decorations. It was nice to be in a Penney's-like place again.

     By the time we came out, it was getting dark, even though it wasn't that late. After getting lost and seeing the Four Fountains, we finally ended up at the Trevi Fountain, which was very crowded. I did indeed toss a coin into the fountain. I also killed a pair of shoes. Yay!

 

One of the Four Fountains. I took this picture a month ago on my church-hunt.

 

It was very pretty at night.

  

 

    Random note: it will be really nice to get home and be able to wear clothes that are more colors than black, green, and blue. I love those colors, but I'm getting kind of sick of wearing the same thing over and over again.

Stuff and the Venerable English College

     Yes, I know I have been really, REALLY bad, and it's dinnertime, and..... But I will say a few words. Firstly, it looks like I'll have to finish my chronicling of this semester even after I get back home, since there's so much I've not mentioned and it's my last two weeks.

     Now for a brief update: Today was my Italian final, yesterday we went to the Vatican Museums, Monday we went to Santa Sabina, Sunday we went to the Venerable English College (British Seminary in Rome; that's it's name), which I loved.

 

The Venerable English College

 

     It was really nice to be in Catholic Little Britain, with British accents. I didn't feel like a foreigner, though, I felt really welcomed and at home. I'm wondering if maybe the Brits feel towards us Americans the same way that I feel towards them here in Rome: "A Native speaker of my language! A person I can understand effortlessly, and who understands me! I don't know you at all, but I love you!!!" They were just so.... They seemed really happy to have us there. It was the warmest welcome we've received this semester.

     The chapel was a little strange, though very beautiful. We walk in, and we sit down. That's not so strange, except that our rows of pews were facing other pews filled with British high school boys. And our group consisted mostly of girls, since about half of the guys were on a retreat at a monastery in Norcia. I'm just glad that they were five years younger than me; it would have been very awkward and distracting otherwise. Instead it was mostly just funny. Why were the pews arranged like this? It's a choral thing, for praying back and forth. You see this when a group of people pray the Divine Office: about half the people pray one stanza of a psalm, the other half do the next, and then it just keeps going.

 

The tabernacle, viewed from the cleristory. Yes, I know, it's not in the middle. The chapel was
slightly redesigned in the 80's, and not everyone is happy with the current layout. Still, it's a chapel.

 

The ceiling! I couldn't stare enough at it.
 

Being upstairs was really cool.

 

     Although I enjoyed myself overall, I was never so conscious of my American accent as I was that day. British priests, British lector, British choir, British people in front of me. It was a terribly weird feeling, like I was offending everyone's ears (though I probably wasn't).

     The choir was the most beautiful I've heard in a long time, maybe the best I've ever heard. I wanted to cry.

     They had an awesome little garden which had benches that were partly made of columns from a temple to Saturn. (And it was even a rainy, grey day when we went. How British! :) ) The only thing I didn't like about the garden is that it facilitated a frightening moment: I managed to get a bee stuck in my hair. Not joking. I'm just glad Theresa managed to get it out quickly and without angering it.

 

Bench resting on capitals from columns of a temple to Saturn

 

Goldfish!

 

     So much history in that building. It's been a seminary for 500 years, some 40 martyrs studied there. The chapel where we had Mass is the same one that those martyrs prayed in, they have of their bones under the altar. And it was such a cute, cozy building!

 

Nothing warms your heart and makes you laugh quite the same way as does seeing a
 marble plaque with a Latin inscription containing a distinctively British name.

 

     The hurrican was apparently global news: during the Prayer of the Faithful, the US was specifically prayed for. That was another nice touch, hearing us mentioned in Mass.

 

I think this was the original entrance to the chapel.

 

     After the tour of the College, we went and got coffee at Sant' Eustachio's, which has been mentioned in the New York Times. It was very good coffee.

The Forum and the Coliseum

-- On September 30th --

 

     So we were supposed to go to the Forum and the Coliseum on the same day we went to the Capitoline Museum, but there was a dumb strike that day. The Romans love the sciopero. We had to go on Sunday, which was very annoying at first, but that’s okay. I wasn’t able to go to my usual Sunday Mass, but the Vigil was not crowded at all and the psalm cantor had a beautiful voice, so it was all good.

     So off we were, Sunday morning, towards the Metro. This was the first time I took the lovely B line. By lovely I obviously mean creepy. Take a look at this beautiful train we kind of didn’t want to ride:

  

     It was worth it, though, because the first thing we saw when we stepped out of the station was the Coliseum.

     After waiting for quite a while and finding a vestige of 3^rd Century Peanut M&M’s, we finally entered the Forum with Prof. Lev, one of the coolest teachers ever. She can make just about anything into a witty, sarcastic, and intelligent joke. It's amazing.

 

      Not long after we got there, it started raining. So we had the lovely experience of the ancient Roman Forum in all its... wet splendor. It was still cool, of course, and the rain really wasn't that bad at this point.

Trajan's arch, built after the Romans destroyed the Temple of Jerusalem in the
 first century AD. It even has a relief depicting a menorah on it, which is cool

The emperors' backyard

This is probably my favorite part of the Forum. Look closely at the window of the emperors' palace;
click on the pictures for a larger view if you need to. :D And then tell me that isn't awesome and comforting.

     The next stop was the Coliseum, which we did not have an actual tour of, but just explored on our own. I was actually less impressed once inside than I thought I'd be. Well, downstairs, anyway. Upstairs was pretty cool, though getting there was minorly arduous, thanks to the many and precariously steep stairs.

Best part of the Coliseum. It made me so happy to see a cross on this site
 where so many innocent people had been killed in the name of "entertainment."
The Coliseum has been declared sacred ground, and the Papacy has prevented
it from being torn down, since it is a monument to the martyrs.
 

Though, I have to say, we make a pretty bad bunch of Caesars. Cruel, hearless, and all that.

      Shortly after the group picture was taken, it started raining again, this time harder. It sure didn't dampen Erin's spirits, though!

My roommate having a Titanic moment in the rain, at the Coliseum.
Yeah... Somehow it works, though. :)

     (Although I had lived in Rome from 1997-1998, I had actually never been into the Coliseum until this trip. We drove past it every week to church when we lived here, but never went in.)

     And here is definitely the most humorous part about seeing the Coliseum in the rain:

     A Roman centurion holding a pink umbrella over some lady whose clothes match her umbrella. Tell me that isn't one of the cutest and funniest things you've ever seen. I dare you! :)

The Pope.... Again!

     As if the Papal Mass on Sunday wasn't enough, I got to see His Holiness again on Wednesday! That did, of course, involve getting up early, walking for fifteen minutes with wet hair, and starving for a couple of hours, but that's okay. (Especially since Erin and I got to pick-pocket Theresa while bored in line. That was fun.) As close as I was to the Pope on Sunday, I was even closer on Wednesday. Front row, man!

 

 

Not zoomed up. :) We were THIS CLOSE.

 

   Christendom College was also announced during the English part of the audience, so that was really cool. Besides speaking in German (duh), English, and Italian, the Pope also spoke to the people of the following languages: Spanish, French, Portuguese, Russian, and Arabic. It was so cool to hear the Pope reading in Arabic. I was really surprised that there were Catholics in the square who were from the Arabian world. Good for them! Go Catholics of Kazakhstan! The cutest part was when the Pope got to speak to his flock in his native tongue. He barely glanced at his notes for the first half of the German part. It was so nice. I like German. I don't know why some people insist that it's an ugly language. (Then again, I'm the girl who will listen to 80's British pop, Bollywood soundtracks, Japanese techno-pop, mainstream 90's and 2000's things everyone knows, modern Arabian hits, and Korean boy band songs in the same sitting..... Then I'll often go from that energetic stuff and change the mood with opera and chant. Apparently that's not exactly normal.)

     Anyway, we and our families got a special blessing from the Pope at the end of the audience. I loved the fact that people were there from all over the world. There's nothing like going to the Vatican to really feel the universality (catholicity; "catholic" means "universal") of the Church: you've got people of every age, language, and color all packed in the same space to see their spiritual father on earth and show him their love. You get the same feeling going to the Vatican at any time, really. You hear all sorts of languages as you wait in line; you see Korean nuns and African priests; you find vacationing couples from everywhere stopping in the adoration chapel to say hi to Jesus. Can you guess what my favorite foreign country is? :-) :-) So happy to be here... Now I know what the Christendom brochures mean when they stress the coolness and importance of being here "in the heart of the Church." It really is spectacular if you take the time to notice it.

 

There was this group of Italians in traditional dress; they all got
 up and danced at the end of the audience. I soooo wanted to join them.

The group above had a billion pictures taken with the Swiss Guards;
 during the photoshoot this one guy looked SO bored, that I just had to get a picture.
The look of sheer and utter ennui on his face was just hilarious.
And I knew my brother would appreciate a shot of a dude with three medals.



     And speaking of taking the time, I learned something in the first week of the semester: DON'T always take pictures of cool stuff. Don't. It's a bad idea. (Taking the pictures above, however, was a good idea. ;-) ) Sometimes you really just need to relax and to look with your eyes only. It's more rewarding in the end. Sometimes you ought to take pictures, and you'll be so glad that you did, but other times you just can't. They won't always do the subject half the justice anyway. This is why I was really glad, though vexed at the same time, that a lot of the churches on Pilgrimage forbade the taking of pictures. Of course, some people do it anyway, but that really is to their detriment. If you're just seeing everything through your camera, you really miss out on the experience. Sometimes technology just needs to hide in a corner and not exist. I didn't take my laptop with me on Pilgrimage, and that was such a good decision. Did I miss it? Not till the end. I was relieved to not have it with me. I felt as if a great burden was taken off me. It's amazing how attached and addicted we get to things. Those things grab us and hang on; we want to let go, but we're to weak to even try.

     Anyway, back to the chronicling of events. After the audience and lunch, we headed toward the Catacombs of St. Priscilla. When I hear that name, I tend to think of a stereo-typical British spinster, prudish and everything. It's actually a Latin name, though. If I'm not mistaken, it is the feminization of "Priscus," as in Tarquinius Priscus. (Roman naming was patronymic: all the kids were named after the dad; kind of like the Russian naming tradition, only the Russians had the middle name of the child be the father's, not the first name.) Not sure what the name means, though.

     On the way to the catacombs, I learned that the Capuchin monks invented cappuccino. Thank you, brothers!

 

Yeah.... Some of the guys stopped at Burger King after lunch to get MORE food...
And yes, they wore those cardboard atrocities all the way to the catacombs, not taking them off until we got there.

     Down there, we got to see THE oldest painting of the Madonna and Child known to us, dated around 180-220. We saw some other early paintings: the three men in the fiery furnace (from the Book of Daniel), the trial of Susanna ("), the Good Shepherd, Jonah being spit out by the whale, Moses striking water from the rock. We had Mass after the tour, said for us by Fr. Sean, an American priest.

     Yesterday, the Pope officially declared the start of the Year of Faith. Alas, we were not there when he did, for we had class.

     The Terminal, a weird place where we had group lunch on class days, is such a priest hangout. After being at St. Peter's Square, they'll often go to the Terminal for lunch, dozens of them in cassocks. It's so cool to see priest in cassocks; way cooler than the normal outfits you see priests wear back home.

 

Bishops looking cool in their cassocks and whatever-the-sashes-are-called

 

     Last night was a small dance party held in honor of Katie Shannon's birthday. I was SO happy to finally dance for the first time in five months. I even got to do this (in a simpler and sloppier form)!!!



 

 

     By the way, O you who will come here later, have fun with the singing washing machine. :)