When in Rome...

I like to define this past weekend as my first "real" weekend in Roma, and what a weekend it was.  There was no settling in, no mandatory orientation trips, no days planned out to the exact hour.  It was just me and my friends and Roma, exactly how I have always imagined it, with the absolute freedom to do as we pleased. 

Friday began with shopping, followed by a dinner downtown of pizza and a panino and the incredible three-flavor gelato combination of dark chocolate, coffee, and caramel.  We returned to the JFRC, watched a movie, got ready, and headed to Testaccio, an area known for its popular discoteccas.  The evening was nothing short of eventful and proved many stereotypes about Italy I had been told over and over again, including the persistence of Italian men.  Saturday was my roommate's twenty-first birthday, and was a leisurely day filled with a walk in Balduina (our neighborhood), coffee and pastries in town, and a visit to the local hair salon.  If you think that Italian women take time making themselves look presentable, wait until you see the men.  My roommate and I waited on a man in the salon for over an hour as he had his hair washed, cut, blow-dried, and styled.  And it was not as if he had a lot of hair or a high-maintenance haircut.  It was simple, run of the mill short hair that apparently required twice the amount of time it took to cut everyone else's hair in the salon.  After the salon we headed back to campus and set out for Trastevere, known to be more “authentically Italian” than Testaccio.  Following a few direction mishaps, we ate dinner at a delicious restaurant where I had my first pesto pasta in Italy and an incredible apple strudel with gelato.  To top it off, we ate just like the Italians at around ten p.m.!  We finally made it to Trastevere only to be caught in the rain, and it was in the middle of the downpour that we decided to go home.  After attempting and failing to find a taxi (it is illegal to hail them off the streets here) we crossed the bridge to a piazza with a little more promise.  However, as we walked up to the taxi stand it dawned on us that everyone in Roma apparently had the same idea, and we were faced with a line of about twenty people who were wet, tired, angry, and drunk.  Getting into a cab quickly turned into a competition, and I witnessed people shoving each other out of the way, racing after taxis, fighting, and screaming –– all in the middle of the pouring rain.  After about twenty minutes we made it into a cab and arrived safely back at campus, soaking wet and happy to be home.  My bed had never looked so inviting.  

This weekend may have had its ups and downs, but it was one that allowed us to see Roma on our own time and in our own way.  We have seen the antiquity of this eternally beautiful city paralleled by its modernity, have seen its culture by day and by night, and have lived amongst the Italians.  I guess it’s true what they say, that when in Rome, you really do have to do as the Romans do.  

Before leaving for Trastevere -- happy birthday Saiena!

"All we do is eat, sleep, and look at ruins"

I have returned from a weekend orientation trip with all the students of the John Felice Rome Center, and though it was amazing I have to admit that I have never appreciated my tiny little dorm room and these freezing hallways more. The weekend began on Friday around six a.m. when the Student Life Assistants ran up and down our hallways, waking us up with their megaphones and banging on our doors (I guess I missed the memo that I was attending military school). We dragged ourselves onto the waiting buses tired and bleary eyed to make the three and a half hour trek to Herculaneum, or Ercolano in Italian. Herculaneum, a town that once served as a destination spot for the wealthy, was preserved by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and is still undergoing excavation. It was incredible to see the town similar to what it was in AD 79, with many of the houses still intact and containing their original mosaic floors. Herculaneum sits below its modern day counterpart, and wandering along ancient streets while looking up at modern day apartment buildings further emphasized the juxtaposition between old and new that is such a strong element of Italy’s heritage.  Just as the rain and cold became too much to bear, we were put back on buses and shuttled to a restaurant where plates of fried appetizers, personal pizzas, and desserts were waiting.  It was by far the best pizza I have had thus far, and though I tried very hard, finishing it was impossible.  If pizza continues to be that good, or get even better, I may just not come home.

Our hotel for the weekend was located in Solerno, a small city on the sea that, despite the cold rain, was beautiful.  We were served another three-course meal for dinner and then set out to see what was around, which at night was not much.  The main shopping street in Solerno was lined with lights that kept the spirit of Christmas alive and cast a soft glow on the puddle-ridden streets.  After a long day it was nice to explore on our own before passing out to prepare for the following day’s trip to Paestum.  Saturday was another rainy, frigid day filled with ruins and museum exploration; and though seeing ancient temples across from restaurants and cafes in the middle of a small town was incredible, seeing them cold, wet, and hungry might not have been the best way to appreciate it.  Nonetheless, it was a day rich with history and filled with yet another delicious lunch.

Sunday began early again as we set out for Sorrento, another seaside town famous for its Limoncello.  We had two hours to explore on our own before lunch, and after refueling with some incredible cappuccinos we stumbled upon a small store stocked full of chocolate, olive oil, and every type of Limoncello imaginable.  The owners gave us samples (my least favorite being condensed milk with lemon extract and my favorite being chocolate liquor and lemon) and we all happily purchased our bottles of Limoncello as pieces of Sorrento that we could take back with us.  Lunch was served at a restaurant overlooking the ocean, and we once again hopped onto the buses tired and full to make our way home to campus.  Just as we all grew antsy to get home, a tire blew out on the bus behind us and we sat stranded on the side of an Italian highway.  Our very skilled drivers changed the tire as we shared stories and jokes and we were soon on our way, arriving back at school about two hours later than planned and about an hour late for dinner. 

Though this weekend was an exhausting, cold, and wet one, it was also one that allowed me to see cities I may have never otherwise visited.  I saw my first snow in Italy on the mountaintops surrounding us.  I saw the ocean, Mount Vesuvius, and ancient towns left as they were years ago.  I tasted incredible pizza and coffee and ate more pasta then I ever wanted.  I learned a little more about Italy, and a little more about myself in the process –– one thing being that I should not eat, but will almost finish, five three-course meals in three days.  It was a long weekend but it was one that gave me my first authentic taste of Italy outside of Roma and left me wanting more.  

The original mosaic at a house in Herculaneum

One of Paestum's temples

The city of Solerno

Sorrento on a rainy day

Chi cerca trova

A couple of days ago I learned the Italian saying "non basta la vita."  Directly translated, it means "not enough life," or "life is not enough."  Less literally, it is used by Italians to mean that there is not enough life to see everything we want to see, do everything we want to do, and at the end we usually end up looking back on everything we believe we missed.  I hope to never be one of those people.  I am starting with Italy, and these experiences are the ones that I will look back on to say that my life was more than enough.

These past few days marked the beginning of classes, meaning the beginning of a steadier routine and the beginning of my education in Roma.  They also marked the beginning of my first venture outside of Roma, as this past weekend we traveled to Orvieto, a small town located high on Italy's cliffs and surrounded by a stone wall.  Known for producing an award-winning white wine, it is perhaps most famous for the Duomo, the Orvieto Cathedral.  A massive structure of alternating black and white stripes of stone and a face of intricately placed mosaics, we arrived at the cathedral in the slowly fading afternoon light.  What truly struck me was the fact that, hundreds of years ago, people spent years hand-carving each distinct piece of marble and laying every individual tile so that we are able to stand before its artistry and marvel in its power.  This is what deserves true appreciation.

My trip to Orvieto was one that was also heavily occupied by food, as we were given an introduction to a traditional Italian meal.  As we sat around the tables occupied by bottles of wine to split between three or four people and both aqua naturale and aqua gassata (natural or sparkling water), our first course was brought out.  I cannot tell you the name, but I can tell you that it was delicious.  I think the only way to describe it would be to say a type of mac n' cheese with vegetables.  Basically, it was flat pasta filled with multiple layers of cheese and sliced vegetables.  Incredible.  The minute our plates were cleaned they were replaced by our second course –– a beef dish, side salad, and bread.  As a reinstated meat eater, all I can say is that I am enjoying each and every meat dish I have had so far.  After about three rolls each, a few glasses of red wine, and a completely cleared dinner plate, there was little room for anything else.  That is, until dessert was brought out.  A strawberry tiramisu with perfectly proportioned layers and flavors, it was quickly finished off by each and every one of us.  I may not be Italian, but this is a lifestyle anyone could get used to.

We have a weekend trip scheduled for Friday through Sunday that covers parts of the coast, with a lunch in Pompeii that I am really looking forward to.  Many weekend trips are in the planning process right now, including a definite Spring Break trip to Paris and Ireland set for March.  Europe is waiting for us with each passing day, and we want to see it all.    

The Orvieto Cathedral

One of many ceramic shops

The walled exterior of Orvieto

   

Let's write letters!

I always love getting mail.  Here's my address in Rome:

Ashley Thomas
Room 314
Via Massimi, 114/A
00136 Rome, Italy


Also, here's a humorous video that compares Italy to the rest of Europe.  And from what I've experienced so far, a lot of this is pretty accurate! 

Not all those who wander are lost

In the past couple of days I have experienced countless firsts.  My first bus ride in Roma.  My first taste of gelato and pizza.  My first real Roman experiences.  I finally feel like I am in Italy, and this is only day four of my adventure.  Never again will I say how crazy the Muni drivers are in San Francisco, for when riding a bus in Roma standing becomes a matter of holding on with two hands and finding as much balance as you can muster.  And when that doesn't happen, it's easier to just find a seat.  I will not be able to return to gelato or pizza in the United States, because with one bite of each there is going back.  I have experienced Pistachio (my current favorite), Nutella, Dark Chocolate, and Caffè gelato, but to choose just one flavor is nearly impossible.  I have seen the Vatican, Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, Roman Forum, Colosseum, and Spanish Steps, all of which have only affirmed the unique blend of beauty that makes Roma what it is.

 

A group of us boarded the 990 bus and headed away from school in search of something that would cement the fact that we are studying abroad.  After finding Old Bridge gelato we began to walk and ended up in St. Peter's square, illuminated by lampposts, as well as a giant Christmas tree and nativity scene that still stand in the center.  As light played off the cobblestone and the Vatican loomed above us, a sense of calm washed over me as I began to realize that this eternally beautiful city is the place I am currently able to call home. 

Following our voyage to the Vatican and a day full of long safety and culture meetings, we set out the following evening for a greater Roman experience.  We wandered down tiny alleys as scooters and taxis whisked by, just like in almost every movie made about Rome, and found the many hearts of the city.  Yet for me, the most incredible site thus far has been La Fontana di Trevi.  Walking around the corner to the sounds of its roaring waters and bustling admirers got my heart racing, and I had to stop and take a deep breath to absorb the reality of it.  No picture can do it justice, no film and capture the emotion of standing in front of it.  I threw a coin into its clear waters with the hope that it will one day return me to Roma.

I have seen, heard, tasted and smelled so much in my short stay here.  What I have witnessed has only strengthened my love for this city and its inimitable culture that weaves together the antiquities of the past and the modernity of today.  There may be designer stores leading up to the Spanish Steps and a McDonald’s near the Pantheon, yet the way these incredible powerful structures integrate into present day Roma makes their presence even more awe-inspiring.  It is something that I cannot begin to describe but an exquisiteness that you must see for yourself.   

The Colosseum

The Spanish Steps

La Fontana di Trevi

You may have the universe if I may have Italy

Ciao! I have made it!  From the fading early morning layer of San Francisco fog to the snow covered runway of Atlanta to the sunny yet wintry chill of Rome, my arrival on the John Felice Rome Center campus has been long-awaited.  I have dreamt of this trip for months, for years really, but it has finally settled in that it is no longer a dream.  I have made it to Italy and there is no turning back.  In “De Gustibus,” Robert Browning wrote, “Open your heart and you will see graved inside of it,'Italy.' Such lovers old are I and she; So it always was, so it still shall be!” If at the end of this I can walk away saying close to the same thing, if I can fall in love as strongly with Italy as he did, then my trip will have been worthwhile.  And so, with two suitcases and a backpack containing as much of home as I could fit in them, I arrived as the sun was rising in Rome, passport in hand, extremely tired, slightly disheveled, and in need of a real meal.  I was dropped off at the gates to campus and buzzed in by the guard, and as I rolled my suitcase over the stone walkways littered with fallen oranges toward the great brick building that was now to be my home, it all hit me.  For the next four or five months, Italy is my playground and I get to explore as much as I desire.  Following a whirlwind of registration, I lugged my sixty pound suitcase up three flights of stairs (yes, I did almost topple over a few times) and pulled open the dusty shutters of my dorm room.  This semester will be life-changing – enlightening, instructive, adventurous, and terrifying.  I have chosen to trade in my USF student ID for a Loyola one, my apartment for a dorm room and rock-hard twin bed, my Muni pass for a visa, and have started my spring semester in Roma. 

My Professore Italiano explained today the lifestyle of Italians, something I have not had that much time to see for myself.  He said that they wake up, have coffee, think about what they will do for the day, have coffee, work for about an hour, have coffee, got to lunch, have coffee, work for another hour, have coffee, eat dinner, have coffee, and go to sleep.  While we in the United States live to work, they work to live – and take about eleven hours to complete what we would do in three.  Yet there are three times when this slow-paced “switch” is turned off.  1) When they drive.  In my forty minute drive from the airport I was convinced there were about five times we were going to die.  Not only was my taxi driver screaming on the phone in Italian, but he was swerving in and out of traffic, driving on the wrong side of the road, running red lights, and cutting off other traffic.  I have seen cars and motorcycles literally drive up onto the sidewalk to get through traffic.  And all of this is to get to work and…have a cup of coffee.  2) When they eat.  Forget if you have had their six courses already, apparently they will not take “no” for an answer.  And meals are on a completely different level and schedule here.  Breakfast usually consists of coffee and some sort of dolce – a sweet pastry (mine today was a warmed up chocolate croissant that was delizioso) that gives you just enough sugar to start your morning.  Some businesses shut down for hours at a time during lunch, and dinner is not until later, maybe around nine or ten at night.  3) Soccer.  I have been told that if there is absolutely one thing I must do while in Rome, it is to attend a soccer game.  Apparently, if I do not support AS Roma I will be shunned, and screaming FORZA ROMA in the hallways after quiet hours will not get me in trouble.  Yet for all this slow-paced to insanely fast mentality of Italian life, there is a quality of beauty that remains consistently strong.  Italians see beauty in everything, and hold it to a high standard.  Rome is a city with an extraordinarily rich history and culture, but above all it is a city steeped in beauty and teeming with life, and it is this that I have set out to find.

My dorm room

View from our window

Sunset from our window