No, I am not talking about the inferior brand of instant (AKA, fake) hot chocolate powder. I am speaking of the mildly humiliating encounter this afternoon.
I went again to the Latin Mass at St. Peter's because I was too lazy to go to an earlier Mass. I left early enough to actually get a pew this time, and not just a plastic folding chair in the way back. The cute old priest who says the Latin Mass has a really nice, soothing, grandfatherly voice. It's the nicest Italian I've heard so far. I'm actually not a big fan of the spoken Italian language. I'd rather hear it sung. It was really cool to hear the Irish priests during the Prayer of the Faithful today. I'm just sitting there beaming, thinking, "Real English! [as opposed to English spoken by Italians] Hooray!" So, yes, Mass was lovely as usual.
After Mass, I went to All Brothers (the best coffee I've ever had; this is the place where at least one of the bartenders tends to call Christendom girls princesses) for breakfast. As I went back through St. Peter's Square, I heard the Pope's voice, got very excited, and then was dreadfully disappointed when I discovered that what I heard was only a video-recording. :-( I was really sad. I want to see the Pope, but he's still at Castel Gandolfo.
Then I had the bright idea to wander around and explore. I sauntered down a street, managed to get a heel stuck between cobblestones for a second (how do the Roman women wear their outrageous shoes on these streets?!?!). Then I decided that my good shoes were killing me, so I headed back.
On the way back, I saw this gate and thought, "Ooh, that's a pretty gate. I don't remember going through it when I came down this street... But I must have, because it's not THAT gate, the guarded one I pass by every day. Hm. Guess I wasn't paying attention." Well, I was right about one thing: that I hadn't been paying attention. I see that there are Swiss Guards at this gate and become even more confused, but that's okay! There are like, two other normal-looking people going in, so of course it's just a regular street. And I enter. And I hear a voice behind me calling, "Signorina! Signorina!"
"Shoot.What'd I do NOW? This isn't that other gate where people aren't really allowed in, so why is he coming after me?" I turn and there's a Swiss Guard behind me saying something important in Italian. Still convinced that this was NOT that gate, I look around (not knowing what he's saying; too confused); and then it hits me. It is that gate. I just hadn't recognized it from the new angle.
After an extremely brief apology, I turn right around and leave, quite rather embarrassed. (A minute later, I realized that my situation was actually pretty funny.) Technically that makes me the first person in this Rome group to talk to a Swiss Guard.
And then, on the way back from that, I get sung to by some construction guy. Italian men are weird. I can't say that I'm fond of them. They're such flirts.
I really don't know why all this weird stuff (you'll hear a very weird story later) is happening to me. I was pretty sure that weird things only happened to girls who were flirtatious and/or bereft of a level head. I guess not. I think God is just trying to teach me some lessons. Humility, patience; all that good stuff that I don't have.
I also don't know why the Italians seem to like me. I went out to coffee with my red-haired roommate the other day, and the guy at the counter seemed much more interested in me. Why? I'm a brunette! The Italians usually pay more attention to the girls with lighter hair. Whatever. At least I can be thankful for the fact that I've been 100% safe. Some girls in the past have had some mildly scary things happen to them.
Anyway, I am off. I still have much more to write about concerning Pilgrimage... It's just that so much happened that week!
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| The "pretty gate" of doom |
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