It felt strange walking through Rome, a city where people have walked for hundreds of thousands of years; I couldn't help but imagine the layers the the city. There were mopeds parked next to crumbling stone, and people eating gelato on steps that were built in ancient times.
I didn't understand exactly what I was feeling about the layers until I was invited to go to the Forum with Ariel's creative writing cohort. There, the students were asked to reflect on what was present, and what was not. If you are looking for a good place to reflect on life, go to the Forum and stand in the the center of ancient Roman history. In the Forum, you will find literal layers, and also layers that can only be conceptualized within the contexts of modern society.
The original Forum was built to be a public marketplace in 625 BC, and over the years transitioned into a ciivic space where public functions were held, and then a banking and judicial center.
When Julius Caesar was assisinated in 44 BC his body was cremated there.
The Forum contined to change, with old remains being recylced with each new addition, adding to the layers of history within the city.
One of my primary observations from being in the Forum was how masculine it felt. There seemed to be no female energy present in the whole, grand place. In my guidebook I read "The Roman Forum is one of the most evocative places in Rome. It stands in the centre of the modern city as the romantic testament to her past greatness." When I read this, I was awestruck at the juxtopostion between what I had been feeling, and what I had just read.
When I asked Ariel what he thought about the masculine aspects of the Forum versus the passage in the book, he explained that 'she' often times takes the place of 'it' as a way to personify a thing or a place. He used the example of ships, which are often named after women. "There is no 'he' taller than Rome," he said.
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While exploring Rome, it is not uncommon to be walking down a cobblestone street, and to turn a corner to find something stunningly beautiful. This happened to me and Ana, as we discovered the Trevi Fountain. I only wish I could have captured the intricacies of each component of this masterpiece which was completed in 1762.
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We discovered Boulangerie MP on our second day in Rome. Their panini costs 4 euro, and they are made to-order. The first day I had tomato and mozzeralla, and then I discovered turkey and mozzerella; I was a happy lady. The bread is soft and chewy just like I like, and the staff are wonderful people.
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This was our view as Ana and I wandered home from the Spanish Steps, winding along the Tiber river listening to street musicians create music that seemed to slow-dance in the warm summer night.
Ana and I took a walk through the old Jewish Ghetto. This facade is the remaining part of a building,
built in 146 BC.
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After being in Rome for a week, I began feeling like a part of me was missing, and it didn't take me long to figure it out: I missed home cooking.
Our apartment in Rome is a quaint little loft, but it needed some love to get the kitchen up to speed, For instance, there were pots, a pan, and a colandar, but no cutting board or knife. I spent two days stocking our pantry, and aquiring basic utensils; we have had some great meals.
Pictured below, you will see what we had last night: an Italian Pork and Veg Stew with Ricotta, Basil Stuffed Squash Blossoms. It was my first time working with the blossoms, and they were delicious.
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In addition to the Forum, Ana and I were also invited to attend the Keats/Shelley Museum with Ariel's class. When we arrived, the director of the program asked the class to take a sheet of paper which had lines of proverbs on them. He asked us to close our eyes, place our finger on the page, and then open our eyes to see which proverb would be ours for the day. Mine read, "after the storm comes calm."
He asked us to spend the day "becoming what we observe," while keeping our proverb in mind. I couldn't help but think about how beautiful Rome is, yet because of the heat there is an overall harshness that feels penetrating. It makes me feel grateful for the siesta that happens here in the afternoon; a calm after the storm that prepares people for the second half of the day.
My proverb also made me think about how hard it is to adjust to being in a foreign land. On the day I stocked our pantry, my shopping bags were very heavy. I had not aquired a canvas shopping bag, and the store only supplied thin plastic bags. I had jars and bottles in my bags and I feared they would break if I tried to walk home. I knew I couldn't hail a cab in Rome, and I didn't have a phone to call a cab. I stood on the sidewalk willing myself to stay calm. I walked across the street to a cafe and asked the server if she spoke English; I asked her to call me a cab. When the cab arrived, I suddenly realized I did not know my address and my driver did not speak English. He was upset and he began yelling at me. Because of the language barrier I could not even guide him to where we live.
Finally, I remembered I had a map on my phone I had loaded in order to direct myself to the market. I was able to show him the map, and he drove me home. When we arrived, he said 11 euro! I panicked because I thought I only had 10. Then I realized I had euro coins in my wallet. Relieved, I made my way into the safety of our home.
The cab incident was undenieable scary, and yet here I am in the calm after the storm.
Rome's history is filled with storms, and yet here it is, standing bright and bold with eveidence of it's historical existance around very corner, in every layer.
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The original ceiling in the Keats museum. He lived in that house for the last 3 months of his life, until he died from Tuburculosis in February 1921.
