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.