After one long flight from Chicago to Rome, a week of jetlag, a weekend in the Italian region of Umbria, and a brief period of lost luggage, I can finally (hopefully) say that I have settled into Roma at the John Felice Rome Center (JFRC).
It’s been a whirlwind of a week filled with gelato, glasses (or maybe bottles) of red wine, and practicing Italian, but I am so excited to be in Rome for this next semester during my year abroad. I can vividly remember the study abroad information session during Loyola Weekend in my senior year of high school when I first heard about the Ricci Scholars Program. The Ricci Program allows me to do cross-cultural research between Rome, Italy, and Beijing, China. From the first moment I heard about it, I knew I wanted to participate but it feels slightly surreal now that I am actually in Rome preparing to research changes in labor law and labor organization over the past half-century.
Not going to lie, the amount of work I’m staring down for this semester and the upcoming year has me feeling a little bit stressed. How am I supposed to balance my work while trying to soak up this whole experience? Last week, every night felt like a choice between being abroad and studying abroad. I was either back at the JFRC reading and working or I was out in Rome – a beautiful city – exploring all of its nooks and crannies. Every turn around the corner was a whole new adventure… but it also felt like I was shaking off my work.
This past weekend in Umbria, however, really helped me to realign myself and my goals for this semester. At first, I was upset that I would lose a whole weekend of either exploring or studying. Yet, as we traveled from city to city in Umbria, as we saw all these hidden gems of Italy, it forced me to slow down and realize that all of last week – in trying to immerse myself fully into my semester abroad – I was completely failing at immersing myself fully into my semester abroad. That fast-paced desire to experience everything, to do everything is so utterly American. This semester is about learning from Italian history and culture, and that means not just walking through a piazza but stopping in it, not just looking at a statue but reading up on it, and not just doing some research but actually learning from it. And why shouldn’t I stop and stare for a while? Every part of this country is beautiful.
And I know that no amount of speaking Italian, eating gelato, or learning about Italy this semester in Rome will be able to make me Italian, but maybe – if I let it – it can make me a little less American.
My weeks have turned to days which have turned to hours. Tomorrow is my last full day in the magnificent Rome. Why am I crying in the club right now.
Time here has truly flown by, it’s hard to believe I’ve accomplished everything I have in these past few months. Multiple countries, so many new friends, endless bowls of pasta…My complete history of trips includes:
Bologna
Florence (twice)
Copenhagen
Amsterdam
London
Paris (twice)
Barcelona
Dublin
Even looking at my list it still blows my mind how much I’ve experienced in such a short amount of time. I could honestly type out an entire novel, chronicling my adventures in full detail, but I’ll spare you. I’ve made so many friends that I know will stick with me even after we land in Chicago. I could not have had a better roommate, as Alexa and I are similar on every level (most importantly on our sleep schedules). Italy has taught me so much, like how to roll with the punches, how to take local social cues with a grain of salt and be more patient, the importance of calling my mom every once in awhile, and never ever ever taking for granted the privileges I’ve been blessed with. I’ve grown and blossomed into an entirely different person. Did I mention I even got a tattoo??? I mean, WHO AM I THESE DAYS.
The point is, this entire study abroad experience has taught me more about life and independence than in my three years of college life in Chicago. I never could’ve imagined my life would take this turn. I only dreamt of living in Italy, I’m not even 21 and I’ve already been to more than eight foreign countries. My stories are endless, and while I’m aware that the reverse culture shock is real, I’m excited to share every story with anyone willing to listen. I’ve partied with the professional Denmark basketball team, visited the house of the late Amy Winehouse, got tatted in Rome, listened to the Weeknd’s new album in Paris, stuffed myself with lasagna in Bologna, and the list goes on and on. I’m prepping to take my last final tomorrow, but I feel as though I’m prepping for something much bigger when I get home.
So, there I was, sitting in Rinaldo’s in my usual seat on the couch in the corner listening to my peers discuss travel plans for the upcoming weekend. I couldn’t join in because I had no plans so I decided I needed to go somewhere. I pulled out my computer and my credit card, searched “Rome to Venice” and booked a train ticket and a hostel for the weekend. Spontaneous and maybe even a little impulsive, I made the decision and didn’t need to discuss it with anyone. After I realized what I did, I thought, Oh my God I’m going to Venice, ALONE!! And there began the brewing of excitement tinted with unease in the pit of my stomach.
Here’s my “excited-to-travel-alone” selfie.
After a late night of cheering on the Men’s basketball team and celebrating their victory into the Sweet Sixteen, I woke up (a little hungover), packed, and made my way to the train station. I’m not an anxious person, but when it comes to traveling with a deadline, I’m always on the edge of panic but everything went smoothly and I made it on the fast train headed to Venice. With a grin on my face, I admired the hills and fields passing me by as I sped over 150 mph towards the City of Water. Four hours later, tired and hungry (the default state of being for a college student studying abroad), I arrived in Venice, immediately dropped my backpack off at my hostel, and went off to explore the narrow streets and winding canals.
Venice is a maze. Google Maps would tell me to walk down what appeared to be a dark, deserted alleyway but, when I would turn the corner, the street would be bustling with life. I thought I was walking in circles because I would pass Murano glass shops, mask shops, and pizzarias then I’d walk over a bridge and pass more glass, masks, and pizza. I happened upon Piazza San Marco, the only piazza in Venice, crowded with one half tourists and the other half pigeons. Children were chasing the pigeons, couples were dancing to live music emanating from the caffès lining the piazza, men were feeding the pigeons and trying to get tourists to pay to take pictures with the birds, and tourists were walking around with their selfie sticks, always looking up with their mouths agape. When you travel a lot, you start to notice the typical tourist giveaways.
At the East end of Piazza San Marco lies Basilica Cattedrale Patriarcale di San Marco, Saint Mark’s Basilica. Unfortunately, I was unable to go inside but I did admire the facade, which was highlighted with gold mosaics and sparkled in the golden hour sunlight. The sun was approaching the horizon and I realized that now was my opportunity to see a Venetian sunset so I frantically walked around trying to find that perfect view that I’ve seen in photos but, unfortunately, I could not beat the sun. I started back towards my hostel, meanwhile glancing at all the menus posted along the way. A woman, whose job consisted of getting people into her ristorante, advised me about the perfect Venetian dishes to try for a seafood beginner (I’m not a fan of seafood but I wanted to be adventurous). I ate spaghetti alle vongole which was spaghetti with teeny, tiny clams in their shell and tomatoes with garlic sauce. Delizioso! Oh, can’t forget the glass of white house wine, one must drink wine in Italy.
I began my second day in Venice with a cappuccino and a trip to Murano, an island about a thirty-five-minute waterbus ride from my hostel. Murano is famous for its glass production which began in the 7th century. I went to the Glass Museum and saw some ancient glass and learned the history surrounding the main product of Venice. The glassblowing process is so fascinating, I wish I could’ve seen it in person! After leaving the museum, I walked along the canals and browsed through the shops lining the water. It took lots of deliberation but I found some beautiful souvenirs to bring back home for my friends and family.
Let’s talk about transportation in Venice. There are no roads, only canals, so you can either walk or travel by water. Waiting for the bus consisted of standing on a swaying platform next to a dock and hopping on a boat when it arrived. Venice did not feel like a real place because it is so different than any city I’ve ever seen. Florence has mopeds, Amsterdam has bikes, London has the Tube, Paris has the Metro, and Venice has waterbuses and gondolas.
Gondolas have set rates in Venice so one gondola for forty minutes is €80 and you can have a maximum of six people splitting that cost. As we know, I was traveling by myself and I could not afford an €80 private gondola ride on my romantic solo trip but I couldn’t go to Venice and not ride a gondola! I scoured the internet until I came across a deal on Viator.com for a walking tour plus thirty-five-minute gondola ride for $51. US DOLLARS! Lifelong dreams were coming true that day. It was time to meet up for the walking tour of Venice and my tour guide was a Venetian with a sarcastic, dark sense of humor and I enjoyed it. We toured an area with less tourists and saw a few of the one hundred and twenty-five churches of Venice. Venice sinks about 12 cm a century so now is a great time to invest in the housing market (credit for that joke goes to my tour guide, Marco).
It was finally time for my gondola ride! I was put onto the boat with two couples and another solo rider and we embarked on our thirty-five-minute expedition around the winding Venetian canals. My gondolier did not sing or wear a fun hat like I saw other gondoliers wearing but he peacefully propelled us along. The best way to experience Venice is by water and I am so glad I was able to go on a gondola ride. It was peaceful and beautiful but over all too quickly.
After disembarking from the gondola, I wondered around a bit and happened upon Piazza San Marco, again. There are wooden walkways for when the city floods stacked all over the piazza so I went off towards the Doge’s Palace to sit on the walkways with the other tourists. I had a salami sandwich in my purse leftover from my sack lunch and I was starving so I thought it would be a good time to relax for a minute and eat. Plus, I was saving money because I did not need to buy another meal. I pulled out my sandwich, unwrapped the tinfoil around it, and took a bite but within thirty seconds of that first bite, a seagull swooped down and grabbed the sandwich from my hand. The seagull landed about fifteen feet in front of me and eight other seagulls were fighting that thief for my sandwich. I was completely shocked. Did a seagull really just take my sandwich? The other tourists around me also looked shocked and I started to laugh hysterically. I could not believe that just happened and I thought it was hilarious because it was such a stupid mistake to try and eat in a piazza FILLED with birds. If you go to Venice, please do not eat in the Piazza San Marco, learn from my mistake!
There I was in the piazza, hysterically laughing, alone, and without food so I wondered around until I found a take away pizza place. I had walked past it a couple of times during my earlier adventuring and there was a spinach and ricotta pizza that I had been eyeing. Of course, I got the pizza because it was only €3.50 and the slice was huge! I think my sandwich was meant to be taken from me so that I could enjoy that delicious pizza. It was waaaaay better than any pizza that I’ve eaten in Rome so far.
The sun was setting on my second day in Venice and I found myself at a dead-end with a perfect view of the sunset. It finally hit me that I was in Venice. Traveling is hectic and everything moves so fast that it’s possible to forget to take a breath and really appreciate the place you’re in. I felt the cool breeze on my face and I knew that if I touched the water, it would be cold. I’m not sure for how long I watched that scene but I did not walk away until the sun made its full decent beyond the horizon.
Venice is gorgeous, unique, and a little bit ridiculous and I am grateful that I had the opportunity to visit before it sinks. I’m kidding, that’s not going to happen for a while. Traveling to Venice felt unreal because it is so different than any city that I have ever seen. This small town will forever hold a place in my heart, even if it feels like just a dream.
I spent March 17th and 18th traveling around Rome and western Italy learning about Italy’s role in the Second World War. I discovered that during the war, Rome and the rest of the country played key roles for both the Allied and Axis powers. Lead by a JFRC teacher, SLA, and JFRC alumni Phil O’Connor and Jim Centner, the trip was extremely educational and fun. I was hesitant to go at first. I wasn’t sure if it would be worth the money (€ 50) or the time, and I had no particular interest in talking about a war that I had already studied in high school. I figured I knew the history, and the trip would not be anything new. I am happy to report that I was wrong in every way. Not only was the trip worth every penny, it taught me a ton about the war and 20th century Italian culture.
On the first day, we bussed around Rome, visiting historic sights at which major events took place during the Nazi occupation of Rome. First, we walked down Via Rasella, the steep and narrow street where, on March 23, 1944, a group of 16 members of a communist resistance group The Gruppo d’Azione Patriottica (Patriotic Action Group)attacked a column of SS police as they carried out their routine march through the streets. The attackers used an improvised bomb made of 40 pounds of TNT encased in metal and hidden in the bottom of a garbage cart. As the column of soldiers approached, the man pushing the cart lit the fuse on the TNT. The explosion killed 28 SS policemen and may have killed two civilian bystanders as well. When the bomb went off, the soldiers, confused and alarmed, began firing their weapons into the apartment windows above them. They thought that the bomb had been dropped onto them from above. Civilians near the windows were killed and the street was a scene of chaos as everyone panicked.
Following the attack, Hitler ordered a reprisal as punishment for the killing of his policemen. Nazi leaders agreed on a reprisal of ten Italians for every one German soldier. In the end, 335 Italians were killed as punishment for the deaths of 30 SS policemen. The 5 extra people were killed to keep them from disclosing the location of the massacre. You can read about the Ardeatine Massacre online, so I’ll spare you the details. I learned that reprisals like this one were common among opposing groups during the war. I spent the day wondering how and why people continue to do these things to one another. The area is now a cemetery for people killed in the massacre.
From there, the day became a little more cheerful. We visited the Liberation Museum in Rome. It had been a prison where some of the victims of the Ardeatine Massacre were kept, but since the 1950s it has been a museum celebrating April 25th, in 1945 when Italy was liberated from Nazi rule.
Day Two started at 7 AM. We hopped on the bus and visited a large German cemetery. It was pouring rain so our visit was short. The cemetery was perfectly symmetrical with plain white crosses at each grave. Each gravestone marked the place of at least 6 German soldiers. Typical Nazi resourcefulness. As the rain cleared up, we made our way to my favorite place of the trip, Piana delle Orme, a huge WWII museum and park. We spent two or three hours at this museum, walking through the giant hangars full of jeeps and tanks used in the war, depictions of battle scenes, and iconic cultural items of the time. Many of the rooms used mannequins and models to create scenes of big events during the war. Several exhibits had red buttons that, when pressed, would play music and sounds of explosions and battle commands that enhanced the experience of each scene. Here I enjoyed walking around at my own pace, reflecting on each room as I tried to take in all the information. Before this trip, I didn’t know how important the invasion of Sicily had been. I had never thought about the combat that took place in North Africa. It’s hard to explain through this blog, but I felt connected to the time period more than I ever did before.
For whatever reason, the museum also had several exotic animals like peacocks and black swans called Cigno in Italian. The grounds were lined with palm trees and small streams. At one end there was a landing strip with several WWII planes and jets. After all of the death and sadness of the first day, the museum offered another look at 1940s Italy. Of course, we were still learning about the war, but the museum’s displays somehow made it all seem a little less grim. I left feeling proud and in awe of the sacrifices made by everyone who lived during the war, on and off the battlefields.
We visited The Sicily-Rome American Cemetery and Memorial next, which was infinitely more beautiful than the German one from that morning. Nothing against German cemetery design, but we definitely did a better job here. The grounds were made of sprawling green lawns with a fountain in the middle. It didn’t hurt that the sun was shining and a light rain left a rainbow hanging over the Italian cypress trees. Adjacent to the graves is a building and memorial with paintings depicting the Allies routes as they fought their way up through Italy. We stopped in to hear more about the efforts to liberate Rome from the axis powers and took a group picture. Before we left, we visited a few graves. One was that of Ellen Ainsworth, a nurse who was awarded the silver star for her bravery.
The weekend was packed full of walking, learning, propaganda posters, 1940s music, pizza and beer, some sorrow, and more walking. Every time we talked about a tragic event from the war, something beautiful was there to remind us that life goes on. For any future JFRC students that managed to read this whole article, I highly recommend being a part of the WWII trip.
A monument depicting the brotherhood between members of the U.S Navy and ArmyA Menacing Sherman Tank on DisplayA Rainbow Forms Above the American CemeteryOne of the lifelike displays in the Piana Delle OrmeSome Encouraging Street Art
On Friday, March 9th, I spent the afternoon with SLA Ola and fellow JFRC student Noah. The three of us bussed from campus to the area around the Aventine Hill, one of the seven hills Rome was built upon. Armed with her camera and walking shoes, Ola lead the way, taking us to several places that even she had not yet seen. First, we visited the Cimitero Acattolico of Rome, burial site of several famous people like John Keats and William Shelley. The cemetery is beautiful and quiet, rows of ornate graves line the grounds underneath a canopy of trees. Among the graves, cats paw around in search of a bite to eat. The cemetery is free but donations are welcomed to help maintain the grounds and support the cattos.
After the cemetery, we made our way to the famous Aventine Keyhole. When we reached the door, the view was truly impressive. I recommend checking it out if you ever get the chance. Another cool free thing to do in Rome!
Food truck pizza in hand, we walked along some beautiful apartments and houses. Orange trees added an extra splash of color to the cream colored walls. Ola’s next recommendation was the Savello Park, known commonly in Rome as The Orange Garden. The garden is next to a grade school, and the kids were just getting out when we arrived. They darted between the trees, playing tag and chasing their dogs as we took in the sights. The garden spans 7,800 meters and offers a breathtaking view of the city. Unfortunately, a large part of the garden was closed when we visited, but we were still able to get pictures of the sprawling skyline, which included The Vatican, Monte Mario, and The Altare della Patria, (The Wedding Cake Building).
I am excited to spend the rest of the semester visiting the Aventine Hill area to and more of the city. The three of us walked along the river near Trastevere, stopping to take pictures of the biggest rat I have ever seen as it paddled itself through the water near Tiber Island. We stopped in a piazza where two musicians were playing Italian bistro music. We watched as the lively sounds of the accordion and double bass swelled through the square.
We ended the evening with an awesome aperitivo at Freni e Frizioni, a converted body shop that offers specialty cocktails inspired by TV and film along with a buffet style dinner.
A group walks down a sunny street on the Aventine.Some of Rome’s street art on displayThe Non Catholic cemetery where John Keats and William Shelley are buried.
When did this happen!!! I’m freaking out a bit because I’ve realized I really only have a little over a month left in Italy. It seems like yesterday that I flew in, but then again, it may as well be an entire lifetime. All that I’ve accomplished, all the places I’ve visited, all the food I’ve eaten, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. This opportunity has left me entirely awestruck and grateful to no end that I was able to even participate.
This past weekend I was able to go to Paris with my roommate and it hit me (for like the hundredth time) how blessed I really am. I routinely posted all the pictures I took and read the comments that my friends and family left me and couldn’t help but bask in the praise. When I’m old and wrinkly, I can always look back on being 20 and how I freakin’ travelled Europe. Does this sound kind of cocky? Probably. But it’s okay because if I can’t fully enjoy these few months and have all these memories to feel nostalgic about, then what was it all for?
I have a graduated friend who has spent the past few years bouncing all over Asia and South America. I’ve always been genuinely so happy for him. I mean, how many people can say they’ve spent their post-college years traveling the world? I’ll probably be freeloading off my parents as I sink into the abyss of adulthood. But he’s gone to so many beautiful countries and dipped his toes into so many wonderful cultures, sharing his experiences through his blog posts and Instagrams. However, the other day he posted a little gem on his Twitter that said:
“Since when did going to London, Paris, Barcelona, and Rome constitute traveling the world? Lmao please stop this nonsense”
HA. Okay. I was a little salty about that one. Omg maybe he was subtweeting me…who knows? And honestly, who cares!! I could write a book about why that tweet was BS but I won’t. Because first of all, traveling doesn’t have to be taking a voyage across the entire globe. Travel is as simple as taking a drive to a street you’ve never been before, visiting relatives in a different state, going on vacation to a warm, sunny place. Getting out of your comfort zone can even be travel! And even if you have gone to London, Paris, Barcelona, and Rome, hell yeah! Good for you! You a boss! Why would you bash on something as petty as that? My friend has been to more countries than I can name (kidding) but for him to come for those who have taken a step outside their usual routine is shady.
I don’t even know if anyone is reading this or cares, but I’m so proud of myself. I’ve been to more countries than those in my hometown and now have a collection of stamps in my passport and although I haven’t traveled the entire world, I’ve been to places I used to only dream about. If you have the opportunity and the means to travel or STUDY ABROAD, enjoy! You’re a world traveler! And if you’ve only visited a great aunt in Montana, hey you’re still a traveler! Small steps are still meant to be celebrated. Don’t compare your chapter one to someone else’s chapter twenty. 🙂
-Andrea
What I Learned: Having Your Parents Visit You While Studying Abroad and Visiting a Different Country
Last month, my parents came to visit me here in Rome. I was so excited because I definitely needed a little taste of home! This was their first time out of the states, so they were a little nervous but very excited. When they arrived, it felt surprisingly normal to see them, even in a place so far from home.
Navigating the city with them was fun because I got to be their tour guide, showing them my favorite places and sharing what I’ve learned about the history of Rome… But it was also a little tricky because I felt like I needed to be the “expert,” knowing where to go and speaking in broken Italian for them at restaurants and gelaterias. I became frustrated because I felt like I either had to do all the talking or, once people heard my parents speak in English, like I couldn’t practice my Italian. I seemed to forget that my parents hadn’t taken a semester of Italian 101 before coming here, like I had.
The weekend after they left, I traveled to Paris with some friends, and I finally understood how my parents felt in Rome. None of us spoke any French, so trying to order food and find our way around was daunting at times. Waiters sometimes seemed impatient with us for only speaking English. I felt self-conscious and wanted to hide in a bathroom sometimes, but after falling up the stairs from the bathroom at a restaurant and having a French man catch me (haha it was wild), I realized that I couldn’t let this fear hold me back from enjoying this place. People travel all over the world without knowing the language or culture of the places they go. It’s important to be sensitive to the culture you find yourself in, but it’s something that you can figure out once you visit a place. Yes, it’s scary and you’re bound to make a fool of yourself once or twice, but the things you see and the things you learn are so worth it.
I spent spring break in three different countries and plan on visiting three more before the semester is over, and I will hold onto this idea through each of them. It’s easy to let fear get in the way, but I don’t know the next time I’ll be back in these places… Or if I’ll know any more about them when/if I come back. So, right now, at the edge of my comfort zone, I am pushing myself to be a little scared. That’s how I learn!
Also, big shoutout to my parents for coming to visit me. I enjoyed the week so, so much. Y’all rock!!!
This past Wednesday, I took a tour of Prati, a Roman neighborhood that is home to Castel Sant’Angelo and St. Peter’s Square, with several other JFRC students. What made this tour unique, was that it was led by Italian students. The students study English at a local school and they were between 15 and 20 years old. They had the chance to practice their English by teaching us about the local sights as we walked around. We practiced our Italian and heard about what life is like for students living in Italy. They were all very nice and their teacher Frank did a good job motivating everyone to step out of their comfort zones and start conversation in their secondary language. I had never been to St. Peter’s Square and it looked exceptional in the setting sunlight. The lights in the square had just come on and my pictures fail to capture how pretty it all looked under the navy blue evening sky.
On Friday morning I traveled outside the ancient walls of the city to see St. Paul’s Basilica, which was equally beautiful. I has been raining all weekend here in Rome, so the trek was cold and wet. After what seemed like hours spent on two crowded buses, I arrived at St. Paul’s and got to spend as long as I wanted touring the cavernous church. St. Paul’s church is different than those of the Renaissance era because it is not filled with ornate decorations, paintings, and statues. St. Paul’s is quite empty, just a huge, quiet space for prayer and reflection. There are several rooms along the perimeter with some art and stories that tell the histories of religious figures like St. Ignatius of Loyola who founded the order of the Jesuits. Lining the walls near the ceiling are portraits of every pope since the beginning of the papacy. The coolest thing about the basilica is that it is likely the final resting place of St. Paul himself, and there you can see his sarcophagus and the chains that he was bound in while imprisoned. After the basilica, I went to a nearby ramen place called Akira which was really great. Hot green tea and a bowl of steamy veggies and noodles was exactly what I was craving after walking around in the cold rain all morning. Plus anything other than the same dining hall food here is a welcome change!
One of the best parts of being here for me has been the free time I have. During the week, I enjoy a much lighter work load than I have during normal semesters in Chicago. I have been using the extra time to work out in the gym almost every day. I’ve been reading and writing a lot more for fun, watching less Netflix and taking in much less social media. I feel good about that and I hope to keep up these habits when I get back to Chicago. Now, watching the occasional movie is a treat, it’s much more fun because my appreciation for it has grown. Similarly, reading is much more fun, like it used to be before high school. Things are good and I hope to keep improving them throughout the rest of the trip.
I am about halfway done with my semester in Rome and it feels like I’ll never be able to fit everything into the next 6 weeks. In an effort to try, I finally put together a list of things I want to see and do in Rome before I go. I realize I’ll have to skip some things because of my budget and limited time frame. My plan is to do my best and spend every weekend that I have left in Rome off campus, rain or shine, checking out as many restaurants and sights as possible. This way, when I get back home, I’ll have no regrets and I’ll know I did my best to fill the trip with as many memories as possible. Be on the lookout for more posts in the coming weeks as I get really familiar with Rome, while also getting to see Poland, Amsterdam, Assisi and the Amalfi Coast.
St. Peter’s Square at NightAlso St. Peter’s Square at NightSt. Paul’s Basilica CeilingThe Popes at St. Paul’s
I live in Rinaldo’s. I’ve officially set up shop and am not leaving until spring break starting today. I realize that I’m spending too much time focusing on creating content for work and brainstorming that I haven’t been studying enough. I’ve done research on different and effective ways to use instagram to make sales, while posting 3 times a week, I’m supposed to also be posting 2-3 stories a week,
finding new stories to write about like new restaurants, and the March Events Blog post is due next Monday. I completely bombed my finance test which probably shouldn’t have been as hard as it was. I need to be more focused and balanced in how I’m allocating my time. The rest of my midterms are next week so I’m basically not leaving JFRC until my grades are where I need them to be (or sleeping probably, but that’s college right?). Today I took the 990 Bus to Vatican City to take some pictures for my internship and send out postcards to my friends and family. It was 2,80 euros per stamp. The man who was working at the post office seemed was super rude. I handed him my debit card and he threw my postcards on the
desk and said, “No Card.” Alright, noted. I handed him cash, took my postcards and stamps, and left. It was probably because I spoke English to be honest. On my way back to the bus I stopped at a McCafe. I wish McDonalds had them in the united states like they do here. They have cheesecake, muffins, cornetto, colorful doughnuts, and it’s awesome. I got some decent pictures for the Roman Foodie instagram. I ended up buying a creamolosa al caffee. Its pistachio fudge topped with espresso and vanilla soft serve. I had no idea what I was getting but I figure I should try a new thing every day if I can. My life has been changed. With such easy access
to sweets, I’ve come to the realization that I need to do something to keep me healthy. So, for the past month or so I’ve gone to the gym 5-6 times a week depending how my body feels. I’m finally starting to see the benefit of all the work I’ve put in and I’m really happy about. So, the goal for next week is to sort my life out, but its really hard to say the least.
On Friday I went on a hike around Monte Mario, the big hill that is home to the JFRC and the surrounding Balduina neighborhood. Soon after setting off, JFRC librarian and enthusiastic hiker Ann Wittrick in the lead, I heard murmurings from some other hikers that this trek would be four hours long. Four hours!? I hadn’t seen anything about this on the posters. Apparently, the information was on Facebook. Once again, I was out of the loop because I don’t check Facebook. I was not the only one taken by surprise though, other hikers quickly grew apprehensive, several suddenly regretting their light breakfasts of coffee and cornetti. Nevertheless, we were off! As our feet pounded along wooded trails, up and down the hills of Rome, many of the original bright-eyed travelers fell away, opting to catch a bus home as the rest of us continued. I’d say that about 15 of us stayed for the entire trip. I’m glad I stayed because I got some cool pictures of the city and saw the Olympic Stadium where Rome’s most famous soccer teams play.
We made our way up the trails of Monte Mario Nature Reserve which is 139 meters (456 ft.) high. The hill is home to a lot of biodiversity which is not so easy to find in today’s metropolitan Rome. The ground beneath the oak and maple trees is a mixture of sand and gravel from the ancient days of Rome. Though there was more wildlife there years ago, the area is still home to rodents like house and field mice as well as birds like the Jackdaw, Long-tailed Tit, and Rome’s infamous Starlings. (The last of this group swarm the city every year in November and December, burying the city in buckets of their, umm, gifts) The hill gave us some unique views of the city. From different viewpoints along the trail we could see the Vatican, the Colosseum, and the Olympic Stadium poking out among Rome’s orange and yellow apartments.
After the hilltop, we visited a French cemetery for fallen French soldiers of World War II. Many of the soldiers had German names, evidence of the many changes throughout France’s history between the cultures of Germany and France. There were many graves honoring fallen Muslim soldiers as well. These had gravestones with different shapes, and symbols of a crescent moon and star. One of the JFRC’s theology teachers was with us, and he remarked that the Muslim graves were here because there had been so many Muslim soldiers recruited by the French army during the war. Not too far from the cemetery stands a giant statue of the Virgin Mary, meant as a symbolic praise to God for keeping Rome safe during WWII.
As we made our way back to campus, we visited the Olympic Stadium which was built to host the 1942 Olympic Games in Rome, but did not because of WWII. The stadium and adjacent Olympic Village was used to host the games in 1960. We saw the buildings that housed the athletes, and a practice field and track next to the actual stadium. The grounds of the stadium are dotted with Greek style statues depicting muscular athletes. Our S.L.A Judy, told us that fascist leader Benito Mussolini had ordered the statues to be built, with the ideal fascist Italian man in mind. These brawny dudes (not a woman in sight of course) were meant to symbolize the way Mussolini wanted every man to look. I thought it was funny then, when Judy also told us that the reason each statue was made to look across the field at the statue opposite it, could be traced back to ancient Greek traditions; specifically, the tradition of young men forming relationships with older men as a way to enter adulthood. We also saw the old headquarters of the fascist party in Italy. It was, an extremely square, plain grey building with no defining features. It looked like it had come out of a Fascists Architecture 101 textbook. In the courtyard outside, there were huge stone blocks inscribed with a highlight reel of Mussolini and, by extension, the fascist party. The blocks at the end of the rows have been left blank, with the idea that they would be filled in as the fascists continued influencing the world.
At the end, though my feet were tired, I was glad the hike was so long. I left with the nice reminder that taking a nice long walk is an effective way to clear one’s head. A hike in the woods, or a walk through the town can boost your mood and bring everything into perspective. I hope to visit the Monte Mario Reserve at least once more before I go.
Some of the Muslim graves in the French WWII cemetery we visite
The public soccer field next to the Olympic Stadium
