The Creator made Italy from designs by Michelangelo.

Today marks exactly one month before my semester ends and this chapter in my life, the one that shaped my sense of adventure and taste for new culture, comes to a gradual close.  Though it is not one month before I leave Europe, it is one month until I empty my room, pack my suitcases, drag them downstairs, and roll them over the stone pathways toward the green gates that once intimidated me.  Landing in the Roman airport in January in an entirely new city, arriving on campus and entering my room for the first time, the sense of anxiety mixed with exhaustion, have all been overcome by sheer excitement and faded into the corners of my memory.  It may seem like I arrived here yesterday, but so much of me has changed in the past three months, and there is so much more to come in the next thirty days.

I have already noted that the spring sheds a new light on the city, and spring is currently in full force.  Walking down streets bathed in sunshine and lined with blooming trees transforms them from the frigid, damp cobblestone I first fell in love with.  I have found in Italy the awakening of my sense of wonder, and have formed an attachment to the organized chaos that is the foundation of Italian life.  My relationships with the people I have met so far are equaled by the relationship that I have formed with this city.  The food, the language, the movement, the music, the history, the art –– each has made a unique impact on shaping me as an individual.  So often I have found myself walking the streets in complete awe of what I see, and I am constantly overcome with sadness when I think of how soon it will all come to a bitter-sweet close.

The past few weeks have been lazy ones defined by a glowing sun and a deeper exploration of the extraordinary culture that surrounds Roma.  I witnessed first hand the genius work of Michelangelo, from the Sistine Chapel to the Tomb of Julius II to the Pietà.  To see work that defined the art world and that I have only studied in Art History textbooks took my breath away, and standing in a room of people staring up at a ceiling for as long as their necks allowed was an experience I will always hold on to.  There is so much of Roma that is known worldwide and will permanently remain in history textbooks and tourist guidebooks.  Yet living in any location gives you a perspective on it that is deeper than the surface glance you acquire after only a whirlwind few days.  There are places you find that are considered only your own, or routines you develop that remain calming amidst the bustle of a large city.  It is the little things within any place that make the greatest impact, and while I will walk away saying that I have seen first-hand some of the most extraordinary artifacts and structures in history, what I have the most stories to tell about are the days where I read my book in St. Peter’s Square with my pastry from “Secret Bakery,” climbed the Spanish Steps at sunset with my favorite gelato flavor combination, and rented a rowboat on the lake in Villa Borghese with friends despite not knowing how to steer it at all.

While I have been incredibly fortunate to see some of the most beautiful places in Europe, a huge part of this entire study abroad experience for me is knowing as much about Roma as possible.  My favorite weekends have been the past two, where I ventured to places that I had never planned on visiting before I arrived.  I spent a Saturday at the orange groves situated at the top of Aventine Hill near the Church of Santa Sabina.  Surrounded by the orange trees and groups of people lounging in the warmth of the sun, I rested on a ledge that offered one of the most spectacular views of the city I have seen thus far.  Yet the most extraordinary find at the top of Aventine Hill is the keyhole.  No more than two inches in diameter, the keyhole rests in the center of two large doors that, had I been unaware of their existence, I would have walked past without looking twice.  As you place your eye up against the brass surrounding the hole, perfectly situated in the center is the dome of St. Peter’s flanked on either side by a row of hedges.  It is perhaps the most beautiful view of the dome that I have seen yet, aside from gazing at it illuminated at night over the water of the Tiber.  

I was told about the wonders of Italy long before I decided to set out on this trip, but part of my sense of identity with Italy has been formed by my own personal attachments.  D.H. Lawrence is quoted as stating, “For us to go to Italy and to penetrate into Italy is like a most fascinating act of self-discovery –– back, back down the old ways of time.  Strange and wonderful chords awake in us, and vibrate again after many hundreds of years of complete forgetfulness.”  So much of the charm of Roma is its strange ability to awaken the senses to an experience unlike any other.  From the taste of the food to the sights of a city essentially built upon the ruins of another city to the sounds of a new language and the endless hum of life in constant motion.  My Theology professor describes us as being on “liquid time,” where the normal constraints of a schedule seem to fade away and leave us with the absolute freedom to find ourselves as individuals on a great adventure. 

Looking through the keyhole

The view at the end of the keyhole

Boating in Villa Borghese

With Katie and Austin, the view from the orange groves