The Sacred and Profane in Rome

March 2, 2007

It’s amazing how fast you can change scenery. After getting to know Madrid in a way that would have been impossible without the hospitality of our hosts there, Dani drove us to the massive Barajas Airport outside Madrid (he had also helped us book our tickets) and within an hour and a half after takeoff, we were in Rome. A new city, a new language, a new culture. Adapting to such changes, sometimes subtle, sometimes drastic, is part of the fun and adventure of travel. For instance, I was expecting to remove my shoes at security in Barajas but this was not required. If I had done so, I would have stood out as an American for sure. Yet, despite this “lesser” security measure here, we were immediately aware of the presence of security officials in the Rome airport. Three armed policemen stood along the corridor leading from the plane to the terminal. And inside wandered military officers with large automatic weapons and one with a sniffing dog. I can’t say I felt threatened by their presence, nor exactly reassured either. I simply viewed them with interest for the difference they represented.

From the airport we took a train into Rome itself (about 45km away) and we knew for certain we were in Italy when we were almost run down by buzzing scooters and honking cars in crossing the road - at a pedestrian crosswalk! We soon learned that you have to wait for a slight break in traffic and throw yourself across the street, regardless of what the signal may indicate. Jaywalking is the Italian way. (When in Rome…) We were excited to find a room for 2 nights in the first hotel we tried, Hotel Giù Giù . It was certainly low season, as we paid a reduced rate for the biggest room of our European trip. Mandy was laughing at me for how I had greeted the proprietor when we arrived. He opened the door and immediately, thanks to my Lonely Planet phrasebook, I immediately said, “We would like a double room” (in Italian, of course). It might seem a bit blunt, but I couldn’t be more nuanced since I don’t speak Italian. Mandy also found humorous the note of urgency implied with such a direct and immediate request, as though I were saying, “We want a double bed quick!” To make matters worse, the Italian for double room is doppio matrimoniale, e.g. referring to the “marriage bed.” Whatever they thought of my first words, hopefully they will forgive my lack of finesse in such a foreign language. At least I tried…

As per usual, we lightened our load by dropping the packs in the room and set out to see a bit of Rome before the day, already half over, drew to a close. Our wanderings were soon rewarded with the sight of huge white stone statues that towered over us and took an extra-monumental stature in the gray weather of the moment. Mandy commented that these were the first sculptures that attained the colossal scale she expected in the famous monuments of Europe. The rest of Rom followed suit. We would often round a corner to see a massive white marble building, with ornately carved front, and we would search our map and guidebook for any clue as to its history and significance. Often, there was no mention of it. So, it became a funny thing to see such buildings and just say, “Oh, another huge and beautiful structure from ancient times…Huh. Well, dime a dozen. Moving on…”

Before long we were at a significant site: the famous Pantheon. Ironically, it no longer lives up to its name, having been converted into a Christian church. And this has spelled its preservation, as it would have been destroyed in older times if it had remained “pagan.” We were dwarfed beneath its great columns, peering up from far below the dome. Our first connection with what we could confidently say was ancient - around two millennia old, in fact. And thought it may have been low season in Rome, there were still hordes of people in the piazza outside and another horde or three within. From the Pantheon we moved on through the narrower, less trafficked streets, crossing the beautiful Tiber River at Ponte San Angelo, a bridge bejeweled with captivating limestone statues along a road temporarily populated by illegal street vendors selling their wares atop sheets laid on the ground (mostly knockoff handbags and pirated DVDs). The sacred and the profane are everywhere to be found commingling in Rome. We avoided the sellers and walked on to Via di Conciliazione, a palm tree-lined avenue leading straight into Vatican City with St. Peter’s Square spreading out at the end and St. Peter’s Basilica rising up majestically high on the horizon line. It’s a stirring entry into this city-state. The square’s size is impressive, each side flanked by innumerous columns in a long colonnade. And the Basilica itself - we were amazed at its breadth. Fellow visitors were tiny figures at the far end of the church. Priceless paintings hung in the chapels, sculptures by Renaissance masters filled other alcoves, and the entire structure seemed to be lined with marble and other gorgeous stone. Still, its ostentation was nicely understated and not overwhelming. There was a respectful silence maintained, too.

By the time we had explored the entire church and coaxed our awe-struck mouths shut, we had only a few spare moments to send a handful of postcards from the Vatican Post Office and admire the Basilica all lit up in the early darkness. We crossed the river again and found a pizzeria that looked inviting, one of the oldest in Rome as it turned out. The pizzas were delicious and huge (we asked if they were big enough to share but the waiter said, no, they’re only sized for one person; we should have shared!) and what Americans would call thin crust. Foccacia is the thicker style, though it doesn’t have the sauce. I also enjoyed a red house wine, which was my habit on many nights in Italy. The house wines are every but as good as the more expensive “name brand” wines also offered.

Our meal finished, we continued on down a busy street and enjoyed the sight of a policeman directing traffic in one of the grand piazzas. He stood on a small, round platform in the center and gracefully waved vehicles this way and that, a conductor of his own unique symphony. A short while later, he took a break and traffic was let to moved freely through the piazza. It was pandemonium. While cars tended to yield to others in their path, there were many a horn and close call, and we didn’t stick around to see if there would be an accident - though it a little tempting. We proceeded on to what is perhaps Rome’s most well-known monument, passing by the ancient Roman Forum en route, which sat shrouded in darkness to the side of the street on a level far below the modern city. And then, there before us was the Coliseum burning orange in the streetlamps and lighting accorded it. It was as though the Roman past had been resurrected in Phoenix form, flaming and rising from the ashes. The image stayed in my mind as we trudged back to our hotel and fell into bed, our bodies feeling as ancient as the streets below.

The next day was lighter and less overcast, even with a little sun shining through. After a light breakfast we started walking, a convenient (and free!) mode of transport to which we had become accustomed. We reached the Spanish Steps and sat for some time amongst all of the other multitude of tourists come to see Rome. With all these, and pigeons, it’s a busy set of stairs - more for sitting than ascending. From the steps we navigated our way to the celebrated Fontana di Trevi, a huge fountain with sweeping, romantic sculptures, and we participated in the time-honored ritual of tossing a coin backwards into the pool as a wish for a speedy return to Rome. But we weren’t done with her yet, as we made our way back to Vatican City determined to see the Sistine Chapel. The crowds were thick here, too, and we were aghast at what it must be like in summer. We pushed our way through the museums, viewing all the frescoed ceilings and walls, the gold, the engravings, etc. I have never seen so much ostentation. It was quite exhausting actually.

We followed the signs towards the Sistine Chapel, at every turn expecting to be in the Chapel - to no avail. Room after room we made our way, and when I had finally given up expecting to be in it, we arrived. The buildup made it a little anti-climactic for me, as did the crowds, but I must say that Michelangelo’s art is absolutely stunning and fantastic. There is less natural light in the Chapel than many other cathedrals and churches, but the intense colors shine through the gloom as you sit and look. And that’s what we did for 10 or 15 minutes, the crowd talking excitedly in hushed voices that swelled and calmed each time the museum guard called for silence, by shouting Silencio!

When we finally left the Museums, we were tired and our eyes hurt (not to mention our necks, from craning our heads back to view the ceiling). We were feeling a bit stressed as well because we were having trouble with our debit cards, which we had been using as our only source of cash. Mine had actually not been functioning since Barcelona and I suspected the problem to be the issuance of a new PIN by the bank, conveniently only available by mail and therefore probably awaiting me at home. Mandy’s card, meanwhile, had also stopped working and ATMs were giving the message that it had been deactivated for international use. Mandy’s mom had written an email to say the fraud department had called to enquire bout activity on the card. My card did still work if I could sign for an item, such as for dinner. But it was scary to nearly be cut off from our money. We did have the credit card as a backup, but that wasn’t a very practical option except in dire straights. Fortunately we were able to scrape together enough change to jump onto a computer at an internet café and send a quick note off to Mandy’s mom about my new PIN. But we would have to wait to receive a reply. I was worried, thinking, “Hopefully she will check her email soon…”

Instead of dwelling on this money situation, we walked on to the Roman Forum and we were able to see its vastness properly in daylight. There were great marble columns still rising from the earth, symbols of ancient Rome’s imperial strength, and all around scattered remnants of that life long before. It was interesting to stare into the past in such a direct fashion. As we were still bound for the Coliseum, we pressed forward, but our route differed from the day before. We traversed a tall hill next to the Forum, looking out over ruins, church towers, modern apartments and ancient trees that may well date to the start of the Roman Empire that now lay buried beneath our feet. We reached the Coliseum and took the time to walk around it (but could not go in, as it was closed). The gray stone towering above was imposing, but also silent, mute. A few flagstones moved underfoot, but there was little indication of the ferocious games once here. We came, we saw, we conquered in our own way. Now it was time for us to move on… Rome would still be here in another millennia or so. And perhaps we would ourselves return to it one day.