Writing Assignment #9

What is an Italian? What does it mean to be and Italian?
What I find interesting, is my inability to understand the national pride that all Italians posses. For a while I was offended by their attitude towards immigrants, and change in the world. Back home in the US, we are all immigrants; we are a country built on change and new ideas. So it was easy for me to come to another country, and criticize what they do and how they act, because it’s unfamiliar to me. But it’s arrogant. I can’t judge Italians by what they do or how they act. Because I don’t understand what motivates them to be that way. I could pretend that I know it all because I have been here for over two months. The reality is, I don’t think I will ever be able to understand them. People are too different. I grew up in a different world.

Even still, I think about what they are doing to the immigrants, and then I look at America. How are we handling the immigrant situation? Do we make it easy for people to gain citizenship? No, I don't think we are that much better with our immigrants than the Italians. So why are we studying all the immigration issues in Italy and judging them? Why aren't we reflecting on our own situations? It is interesting to think about, do we hold ourselves to a different standard?

Sometimes I find my self-jealous of the Italian world. Sometimes I think they got it all right. In the US everyone gets up at 6, spends an hour getting ready and driving to work, works an eight hour work day, spends an hour trying to get home, another hour complaining about work, then an hour trying to figure out what to do for dinner, maybe 30 minutes actually eating dinner, then a few hours watching TV, then some at home work/ emails, then they sleep… and get up and do it all over again. It’s terrible, and boring. What are we doing with our lives? We live to work… We go out with friends and what do we talk about? Work… When we meet people what do we ask? What do you do? Work, work, work. It’s wrong. We are here not to work non-stop for the rest of our lives. We should work to LIVE.

That’s how I feel the Italians got it right. Yes they work 5 days a week, but they have a whole 2 hours off in the middle of the day to go home, relax, get some lunch, or WHAT ever they please. Then they get off work, and go out, or spend time with their families. I see so many people here at the same spots everyday. Walking in to coffee shops or restaurants, where the owners already know their name and order. The Italian slow food theory is a perfect example. They wont seccum to this idea of running somewhere to pick up food and being done. Having meals together really helps people connect. I can’t even think about the last time I actually had a dinner with my family, that wasn’t for some special occasion. Its not any ones fault we don’t have dinner together. We are all too BUSY. Mom and Dad work 8 hours a day, my sister has school, then practice, my brother has school, then work, I have school, then practice and THEN work. Again back to the idea of work, what do we sacrifice just to have a few extra dollars? Is it worth it?

Italians have a strong sense of national pride, and individual purpose. They aren't perfect, but Americans aren't perfect either, but I love the Italians and will miss them greatly. CIAO!

Monti Rione

Monti from Ancient Times to the Present:
Originally known as Suburra, home to gypsies, prostitutes, and thieves. Where people, such as Julius Caesar sent his troops after battle for some time to “unwind”. Today known as Monti, named for the many hills of Rome that the rione covers. It is the oldest rione and the most authentic. Despite being in the heart of the city, it is relatively free of tourists and very safe. Before 1874 Monti was the largest Rione, but that year it lost a large part of its land, which now is the Esquiline Rione. Then only a bit more than 50 years later, Mussolini tore down part of Monti to make Via Dei Fori Imperiali. This destroyed around 30% of the residential neighborhood. Despite these two devastating wounds to the rione, in the years following, Monti experienced a “building fever”. Many “immigrants” (I believe this was a misunderstanding in our presentation, immigrants not from other countries, but Italians from other Riones in Rome) moved to Monti. It became a very hip, and spendy area to live. Most of the inhabitants today are doctors, lawyers, journalists, and boutique owners. Many hip jazz clubs, organic food shops, ethnic food and local artisans shops can be found wandering the streets. The people of Monti are pleased in their own advancements, being the oldest but also the “most recent”. But they fear that they will become Rome’s trendy spot, bringing in tourists.



Architectural History:
Via degli Ibernesi is an excellent example of the age of the Rione. All of the buildings you see are build on ancient Roman Foundations. The first couple floors are from medieval times. The 3rd floors are all Renaissance add-ons. And all of the roof terraces were put up in the 1950’s.



La Torre Delle Milizie:
Rome had 200 towers at the end of the 13th century, now only about 12 remain (5 in Monti). La Torre Delle Milizie is the most famous, sometimes called “Nero’s Tower”. Because it is a common myth that Emperor Nero started the city of Rome on Fire and watched it burn from the Tower (Because Nero’s palace was located in Monti there are many stories of him relating to the Rione. Such as.. He was known to sneak around in dark alleyways in hope to catch the local gossip). The Tower was built over 800 years ago by Pope Gregory IX to be apart of his fortress. Sadly as soon as it was put up, the tower began to sink on one side, so it Rome’s own leaning tower! La Torre Delle Milizie stands almost 50 meters tall, which equals about 7 stories.




Monti vs. Trastevere:
They are the two most important rione in the city, Trastevere being the largest and Monti the oldest. The two constantly feud over who is more “Roman”. Supposedly the people from both are the most genuine “Roman”, the women the most beautiful, and the men the strongest. But they will never admit to this being true of the other, so they encourage marriages within their Rione (Romeo and Juliet anyone?). Every few years they choose a male “leader” (bully) and they take part in the “throwing of stones” at the Campo Vaccino. This is a competition in which the rione with the most superiority would be decided. The “leader” would bring his godfathers to watch, as they would throw rocks and use knifes to battle. Who ever won the fight would be known (among the people) as the “Leader of Rome” (because one of them is the only true Roman in the city).


Street Names and Their Meanings:
Piazza degli Zingari: Gypsy Square, in medieval times was the location of a nomad camp.
The Vicolo delle Carrette: Carriage Alley, the location where during the Renaissance, carriages brought barrels of wine from regions far away.
Look for meanings of other street names!!


Piazza Santa Maria Dei Monti:
The Church of Santa Maria Dei Monti was commissioned by Pope Greogory XIII in 1580 after discovering A miraculous 15th century image of the Madonna, Saint Lawrence, and Saint Stephen. The Image was found in ruins of a convent, the church was built on top of the ruins. Every year between April and May a copy of the image is carried in a procession. The Façade of the Church was designed by Giacomo Della Porta (who also did Il Gesu, can you recognize the similarities?)



FOOD FACT!
On Via dei Serpenti the Pasticceria La Licata makes a delicious honey pastry from an ancient Roman Recipe!!!

Naples Writing Assignment #7-8

Before going to Naples I had already made up my mind what I was going to experience there. Danger, scary locals, mugging, and dirty streets. This is what I was expecting. Stepping out of the train station I prepared my self for this environment. Skyscrapers lined the sky, I hadn't seen a building more than 5 stories tall in two months so this came as a shock, and people chaotically walking in every direction. There were no buses running because of a protest going on through the main streets of the city. We were forced to walk to our hostel. All of this reassured me that I was right... this city was going to be one big urban mess. As we made the trek a few blocks to where we would be staying I kept all focus on my backpack. I was carrying nothing of value, for fear it would be stolen. But I was still on my guard. Luckily we all made it to the hostel with out being mugged or killed. Surprisingly our hostel was pretty cool, all of the staff were really nice, and our room had a pretty sweet balcony. After a brief drop off of our things we were off to experience Naples.

For the next day and a half I was pleasantly surprised by this place. The food was amazing, the people were nice, and the city was so interesting. I don't think there is any where like Naples in the world. It truly cannot be described in words. Being there I could see where many of these horror stories and rumors came from. There is a roughness to the city I don't think many people can appreciate. The people seemed more real than the Romans. They were a bit grittier but nicer, and seemed to be genuinely interested in things outside their own life. Always willing to strike up a conversation and answer any questions we had. The streets were filled with odd vendors selling things that clearly weren't "tourist" items. Even though we wandered around in their neighborhoods and stopped to stare at their shops with no intention of buying anything, they were excited to have us.

When looking back on the readings I find that many people probably didn't have the opportunity to see Naples the way we did. Describing the city as beautiful but the people rude, and devilish. I think this is untrue. Naples was beautiful, but not in a "paradise" way. I think that the city actually matched its inhabitants pretty well. Looking at the buildings and winding streets, they reminded me of the people I met. The way you could look at a street and feel the age, tradition, and hardships it went through. Paint chipping of the sides, weird stains, shutterless windows and clothes hanging out to dry. I found the people of the city to be very much the same. They all were unique, you could tell that they had been through so much in their lives. They might not have been Botticelli's Venus of ideal beauty, but they were beautiful in a different way. Just like we found beauty in the old buildings and streets, we found beauty in the people. I think this was an important lesson that all of us learned.

Arriving back in Rome was a different experience for me. I rushed home to meet my family, who were visiting for the weekend. When I came back I had a much different feeling of pride for Rome. This was my home, where I had been living for two months and now it was time for me to show it off. It was sort of fulfilling to walk them around the city and share it with them. I love Rome, and have learned so much about it, I wanted to be able to give some of my experience to the people that I care about. So even though sometimes I could tell they would rather not listen to my hour rant about the founding of Rome and the Forum while we stood on the Capitoline hill, I went on. It was funny to see them struggle with the same things I went through when I first got here. "Why can't we get coffee to go?" "Why would anyone close stores in the middle of the day? "Its 6'o'clock and I am STARVING! I CANT WAIT two more hours!" But interesting, because it really showed me how much I have grown and adapted to the life as a Roman. I felt apart of the city after this realization hit me. I knew where to go, and how to speak to people (somewhat, thanks Fede!).

Some strange things began to happen to me after they left. Walking around people would come up to me and ask me questions, or for directions, in Italian and I easily responded. Yesterday I went to the ATM, the first one wasn't working so I tried the one right next to it. While I was finishing a man was trying to use the broken machine. He asked me "Is there something wrong with this machine?" "It's broken, you can use this one when I am finished, I will only be a second." As I walked away, it hit me. That man just spoke to me in Italian, and I responded with ease with out even thinking about it. I was proud of my self and my mad Italian skills (haha). But mostly I wondered what had changed. My first few weeks here no one would dare to approach me on the street and ask me anything or speak to me in Italian. But now it was happening daily. Did I appear more confident, more Italian?

It is an interesting thing to think about, that all of this might have happened in a few short weeks. And now in just 10 days I will be leaving. Rome has made such an impact on me, what will it be like to return to my "other" "old" home. I wait with sadness for these next few days to pass. Slowly cleaning and packing up my things. Something tells me I will miss Rome, and from now on... I will never be the same.

The Jesuits and Il Gesu

When entering the mother Church of the Jesuit order in Rome, one is blown away by its stunning and elaborate decorations and beauty. It is impossible for passers by not to notice the looming façade of Il Gesu. Before researching the Jesuits, I was unsure of who these men were, what they believed, and what their significance in history was. It was surprising to see that the Church does not give an accurate portrayal of the ideals of the order. Il Gesu is a contradiction. This essay will give a history of the Jesuits then some insight into the incongruent art of the mother Church.

To fully understand the Jesuits we must first begin with the man who created the order. In 1491 Íñigo Oñaz López de Loyola was born in Northern Spain to a wealthy family. He joined the Spanish Army at a very young age. Íñigo was made for the army; he was intrigued by the action and glory, and was known to have many rendezvous with the local women. In 1521 while defending Pamplona from the French, he was hit by a cannon ball, shattering his right leg and breaking his left. Over the next few months Íñigo went through many painful operations, all of which were unsuccessful. This sadly left him with a permanent limp. During his long recovery he was deprived of his favorite romance novels and ended up stumbling upon the stories of the lives of the saints. Íñigo’s spiritual transformation began during this time. Inspired by the heroic and chivalric Saints, he gave up everything to spend six years doing charity work. He also practiced and analyzed the divine mystery of God and religion. After a vision from God he wrote “The Spiritual Exercises,” which was a guide to his new way of life. It taught how to use meditation as a way of clearing one’s mind and making better decisions. The book also stressed the importance of modeling oneself after Christ as a messenger of God.

To further his religious transformation Íñigo went to study at The University of Paris. Here he became Ignatius of Loyola, which we know him as today. He studied theology and Latin, and continued his studies of the Catholic Doctrine. While at University he gained six followers, all of whom were trained in his “Spiritual Exercises”. It was said that Ignatius had a “strange ability to impress and enlist anyone however reluctant, whose talents he needed for the cause” (Wright) (An interesting observation, it will be an important quality of his later missions). The seven men then swore an oath to go to Rome to serve the Pope after being ordained as Priests in Venice on the way.



In Rome at this time the Pope was struggling with the Reformation. Almost all of Northwestern Europe had broken away from the Catholic Church. The world was expanding; the time of the explorer was coming to a new high. The Americas had been discovered, trade and travel across the continents were becoming more common. With all of these changes there were many people the Church was failing to communicate with. Not only were they unable to speak with them effectively, they could not connect on an emotional level either. They did not know what moved them or what inspired them. Then Ignatius and his men showed up with “an inspiration of Providence that it is impossible to ignore” (Wright). In 1540 Pope Paul II created the Papal Bull Regimini Militantis Ecclesiae officially establishing the men as the Jesuit Order (Society of Jesus).

The Jesuits were different from other orders of their time. They had to take the normal oath: poverty, chastity and obedience to God. But the requirements had an additional oath, which was obedience to the Pope. The Society focused on the spread of the Roman Catholic Doctrine as the Pope interpreted it. To make this possible they focused on education and missionary work. With these goals they brought thousands of souls to the church.

The Pope was able to send the Jesuits all over the world, with their vow to go anywhere he commanded. Because they were a secular clergy, they didn’t have to live in cloisters or have a certain dress. This provided the ability to go out into the world with some ease, and adapt to the dress, culture, and language of the locals. All of this was a way for them to understand the people on a deeper level. With this knowledge it was easier for them to adapt Catholicism to make it more accessible to locals. In the New World the Jesuits saw their greatest success. Mexico and Brazil took to the faith with enthusiasm, and many remain Catholic today.

Not all of the missions resulted in success though. In Japan they hit a great stride early on, but a jealous emperor put it to an end in 1597 by crucifying 54 people of the faith. Even though there are many more stories of failure, the Jesuits remained persistent in their goals. They were willing to go out and be martyrs for their religion, which showed great devotion. This attitude and their successes inspired a new frame of mind in The Church Triumphant, which would bring optimism and self-confidence to Catholics everywhere.

Education was the driving force behind the Jesuits and their mission work. They were the “School Masters of Europe” opening colleges all around the continent, in their mission to educate the world. At their peak in the late 18th century there were 120 colleges in Italy alone. Jesuits were the first to establish the four-year liberal arts education system, which are still used today. Tuition fees and large donations from the wealthy families of the students were the main source of revenue for the Society.

In 1568 the foundational stones of the first Jesuit church were laid. The name Il Gesu was chosen as a dedication to Jesus, which was obviously an important theme for the Jesuits. Cardinal Alessandro Farnese (the nephew of the Pope) financed the project. This gave Farnese the ability to have the final say when it came to the design of the church. Giacomo Della Porta won the design for the façade. It is considered the first baroque façade and it was the prototype for Jesuit churches around the world. There are two sections: the upper and the lower register, with a large entablature separating them. Both registers have double pilasters to divide the space. One can see two pediments, first at the top of the building and the other placed over the door. The width of the façade is equal to the height, but the upper register is slightly narrower. Della Porta added volutes to create movement from the lower to upper register. Above the door is the Jesuit emblem, the IHS, which is the Greek abbreviation for Jesus. At the top of the façade, the Farnese family crest looks down on the street, emphasizing the family who was gracious enough to help. Farnese’s own architect Jacopo Vignola was responsible for the rest of the church, but dropped out half way through. Della Porta stepped in and finished the project.



The layout of the inside of Il Gesu was revolutionary. Jesuits focused on preaching and wanted a simple design to emphasize it. As a result the nave became shorter and wider, with only one aisle. The high ceiling made for better acoustics, allowing the voices of the preachers to travel further and louder. Additional side pulpits permitted multiple sermons to take place at one time. This layout proved so successful in communicating with the mass amounts of people showing up for sermons that it became the norm for all future churches.

Decorations inside Il Gesu did not start until over a century after it was completed. The Jesuits planned for the inside to be simple and somber, reflecting the themes of the façade, and maintain focus on the preaching. But wealthy donors had other visions for the décor. When people sent their children to a Jesuit college it was a prestigious action. They wanted others to be impressed. But when they would then visit the Jesuit mother church, there was nothing impressive about it (at least not in the eyes of the wealthy). So the donors paid for all of the decorations inside the church, neglecting the considerations of the early Jesuits. This is apparent when you first enter Il Gesu, now famous for its ornate chapels and frescoed ceilings.

On the inside of the Nave ceiling is the Triumph in the Name of Jesus. Painted in the 17th century by Giovanni Battista Gaulli, known as Baciccio, who was recommended for the job by Bernini. The Triumph took him four years to complete and it remains one of the highlights of the church. The painting gives the feeling that the roof gave out and everything is being pulled up toward the heavens. In the center barely visible is the Jesuit emblem with a halo around it, as if it is shining down from heaven. One can see the holy ascending into heaven and the sinful falling away from it towards Hell. Baciccio was very skilled with his methods to give us this three-dimensional feeling. The stuccowork is so thick it actually sticks out up to 5 inches in some parts. He also used a dark glaze on the gilding to give more illusions of shadows. To say the least, the ceiling is certainly impressive and eye catching.



When one moves further into Il Gesu and reaches the Transept, the Chapel of St. Ignatius is on the left. Like the ceiling, it was completed in the late 17th century by a Jesuit Lay brother named Andrea Pozzo. Everyday at 5:30 the church fills with people and an elaborate light show begins. Music plays and at the height of all the excitement the painting of the altar piece drops and reveals a silver statue of St. Ignatius rising to heaven. Today the statue is a cast plated with silver. Pope Pius VI melted down the original in order to pay war ransoms set by Napoleon. On both sides of the altar are sculptures showing some triumphs Ignatius helped accomplish. To the right “Religion striking down Heresy” shows a woman holding a cross and heretics shunning away from it in pain, with a small Putti ripping apart a heretical book. On the left “Faith over Idolatry” shows a woman with a cross standing over a dragon with a barbarian king begging at her feet. One also sees the depiction of a heretic a woman with mangled hair trying to pull the king back. The chapel is incredibly ornate, which is contradictory and ironic when thinking of what Ignatius had in mind for the décor of the church.



On the opposite side of the Chapel of Ignatius is the Chapel of St. Francis Xavier, designed by Puerto ad Corona. Francis Xavier was one of the original founders of the order, and the second Jesuit saint. In a silver box making up the altarpiece, there is his skeletal arm, which was glorified because of his preaching abilities. There is a painting above glorying his death and martyrdom in Asia. He is surrounded by very inaccurate depictions of the Chinese natives. Above that is a relief in the stucco above the painting of him being carried into Heaven.


Following the Themes of Martyrdom we see through out the Il Gesu the High Altar is dedicated to the circumcision of Christ, done by Girolamo Muziano. This was a very important event for the Jesuits. It was the first time Christ shed blood, which foreshadowed his eventual crucifixion, and when he was given his name. The painting in place is currently a 19th century replacement of the original.

Il Gesu stands today as a complete misinterpretation of the Jesuit order; a giant contradiction for everything they stood for. They attempt to justify this as the changing of the times, or adapting to what the people wanted. I see it as a tragedy, for as intelligent as the Jesuits were, they were manipulated. There was no way of stopping the donors from gilding the ceilings and completely marbleizing the high altar. Now when people enter the Mother Church of the Jesuits, they are given an inaccurate interpretation of who they were and what they did for the Catholic faith.



Bibliography

The First Jesuits / John W. O'Malley. Cambridge Mass: Harvard University Press 1993

The Jesuits: The Society of Jesus and the Betrayal of the Roman Catholic Church / Malachi Martin. New York: Simon and Schuster 1988

Ignatius of Loyola: Founder of the Jesuits / John Patrick Donnelly. New York: Pearson/Longman 2004

Gods Soldier's: Adventure, Politics, Intrigue, and Power: History of the Jesuits / Jonathan Wright. New York: Doublepay 2004

The Jesuits : missions, myths and histories / Jonathan Wright. London: HarperCollins, 2004

Rome/ Mauro, Paola, Eric & Jack Lucentini. 2006

The Jesuits and The Arts 1540-1773/ edited by John W. O'Malley and Gauvin Alexander Bailey ; original Italian edited by Giovanni Sale. Philadelphia : Saint Joseph's University Press, 2005

Photos

http://www.siprep.org/faculty/mahlbach/images/stIgnatius_000.jpg

http://www.flickr.com/photos/graeme/308609019/sizes/l/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/benjamin_galle/3093134512/sizes/o/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/edboyz/1417321783/

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ8s4s-3dNBG0kFvfLZBAJiu-A8YGgBNgqR_QmPL8HmvTuuec08ziVILq4J3RPz4W_ChVw6fB4T5hKf_UNzxfng5L7WNNORlT-Y2ybwa-LqXodzGYC8LgI2nmFpl4QWiz_oTO-xhqTAGQ/s400/StFrancisXavierArm.JPG

Monti: take one

For my Rione project, I have the fortune of having the oldest neighborhood in Rome, Monti. Before starting most of my research, I took a day to explore. I took with me no map, no books, and had no real destination. My goal was to wander. The streets in Monti were narrow, and real much different then the tourist traps I see on a normal basis around the Campo. Twists, turns, and steep streets. Cool vintage shops, and funky new art shops. Old Fashion Cafes, and modern hip restaurants. Sometimes after turning a corner the Colosseum would appear in looming at the end of the street. As I continued to walk around I fell in love with all these things, and my excitement grew to learn more about it.

After starting some research I found out so many cool things about the history of the rione. But the most facinating aspect of Monti, in my opinion, is the evolution of the people in the neighborhood. In ancient Rome it was where the most poor population lived, full of thieves and prostitutes. During the Medieval times when the Papacy left Rome, and the aqueducts where left in ruin, people needed moved closer to the river for water. Slowly but surely people made their way back into the abandoned part of the city when the Papacy returned. Today Monti thrives as a trendy neighborhood, full of young people and hipsters. The Monticiani have a proud sense of identity, built on hundreds of years of change and growth. I am intrigued by the people, and want to learn more. Even from my explorations I have noticed the sense of individuality these people feel. They seem more comfortable, confident, and friendly.

I can't wait to really start working with my partner and taking off on this project. Monti was a really great choice, and our presentation is going to be great!

Processions

Some notes on my chosen Festivals thus far.

FESTA DE’ NOANTRI

District: Trastevere (across the Tiber)
What is NOANTRI?
The combination of the words “we” and “others” in the dialect of the people from Trastevere, noi+antri = Festival of We-Others (ourselves)
8 day long festival
Markets, dances, songs, fairs
Procession
At Beginning (every 3rd Sun in July) and End of Festival
Madonna taken through the neighborhood
Madonna Del Carmine (Joyful Virgin of the Carmelitans)
1535 fishermen pulled her out of the Tiber
Originally in San Crisogono, then moved to Santa Agata
Procession Route: From New home to Old Home
Only about 50 meters apart, but take a winding route
Pauses at each church for a blessing
2nd procession
Taken down the Tiber in a boat
hinting towards its origins
Carried by 16 men on wooden Platform
THINGS TO DO:
Visit the Churches, and icon
Find out more details about why the icon is important
Find out more about the Festivities during the week
What does it do for the people of Trastevere??
Interview some people??

FESTA DI SAN GIOVANNI

District: Monti
June 23rd: The Night of St. John
Opens Up Summer, Party of Happiness and Brotherhood
First fires of the year
Considered purifiers
Herb of St. John under your pillow:
ipet, garlic, Artemisia, verbena and rue
Witches of the New Summer, Fly around Rome to escape the “big walnut Benevento” for the great sand??
To protect your Self
St. Johns Wort Oil: walnuts
A broom and bowl of Salt outside your door
Forcing them to count the twigs on the broom, and
grains of Salt
Ate snails
Avoid quarrels and betrayals
Emphasizes the expressiveness of women
Witches are a positive “power”linked to knowledge and ancient
natural remedies
Also seen as a rebel, exclusive, naughty

THINGS TO DO:
More Information
Why witches? Why are they flying around?
What is the religious meaning?
What special events does the community have?
Why?

Writing Assignment #5

After Writing Assignment #4 I am sure everyone could tell that I wasn't too excited to be going back to Rome. But being back really has made me appreciate everything I left. Coming home to my bed, and the familiarity of my surrounding really made me appreciate Rome more. I feel like "home" isn't just where you live, but a place where you feel comfortable. Even though on my way home I couldn't feel the pull that Rome has over me, I felt it as soon as I got off the train. Being able to navigate from the train station home, grocery shop, and just sit in my living room, made me feel good.

This really got me thinking about the true idea of home. There are so many people we see on the streets everyday, what do they consider home? It is interesting that we can recognize the homeless people, they seem to always be in the same areas. Why? I think it is because they have their own sense of home... even though they might not have the actual physical location. But sitting on the same bench, watching the same people go by, and sleeping in the same shop door.

What would happen if they were given a home? Would they find different ways to appreciate it then I do? I didn't want to come back to my 5th floor apartment, with a balcony looking out on to one of the cities most beautiful piazza. Whats wrong with me? I wonder what things I really do take for granted on a daily basis? If these people who have nothing could find happiness and home in the little they have, why couldn't I be happy coming back? I have been thinking a lot about how spoiled I am to have these things, and how I can appreciate them more. It was nice having everyone gone this weekend. It really gave me a chance to think about things, and really get to know somethings about my self. This taught me a lot and I am thrilled to be back in Rome, and extremely lucky I had somewhere so great to come back to.

FLICKR!!

Alright... So uploading pictures on Blogger is the worst thing ever!!! So I have set up a flickr page for everyone!! I have all of my pictures from Florence up now. Check them out because in the next few days I will be swapping them out for new ones (there is a limit to how many I can have.. but its somewhere around 200 so you should get your fill :)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/17453538@N02/

Writing Assignment #4

Here I am sitting on the train. There are people everywhere. Talking on their phones, listening to music so loud I'm sure that everyone in the cabin can here. There might have been beautiful things outside, hills, valleys, but I wouldn't know. Looking out the window everything is gray and foggy... it reminds me of a scene from The Mist. Graffiti covers the seats, windows, walls, everything. It doesn't smell bad, but there is definitely a smell going on. This is the slow train. Disappointment sweeps through my body. I will be on this train for another hour. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm miserable. Oh well, soon I will be in Rome. Campo number 46 has been my home for about a month now. I know where to go to buy milk, the best place for a coffee, places to get amazing gelato, sandwiches, pasta, everything. It was my home… I could navigate, and manage there. Why don't I feel excited to go back?

As some very suspicious looking boys ran through my cabin, I think about what this means. Its not that I don't think as Rome as my home, because a large part of me does. The thing I was struggling with was having to leave Orvieto to get there. There has never been a place in the world as amazing as Orvieto. Where it smells like vanilla and camp fire. Where all the people smile when they see you. Where local artists thrive, with shops on every corner. No graffiti, no crowded streets, no obnoxious alarms that go off at the brink of dawn. I loved Orvieto. Getting on this train was probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I could have stayed there forever. Like the place in movies where you move to fix up some old house in the country, and just by luck the man next door is a beautiful, charming, and secretly some sort of royalty. Ha that's a bit unrealistic, but Its sort of the feel this old town gives me. The Medieval streets make it feel almost like something that popped out of a children’s book. Orvieto is the kind of place where I could just crawl into... and never leave.

But Alas life calls, and here I sit on this crap hole of a train. With filthy windows, and the seat in front of me shouting profanities. Watching my bag slide half way across the floor, I picture my self, getting off the train. Trying to throw my bag out the door, because its physically impossible to get down the two steps and a huge gap off the train holding so much luggage. Now having to walk across the station to the bus stop. Where of course either of the buses I need to take the 64 or the 40 are known for their pick pocketing. And there I will be, a perfect target. With my oversized purse, backpack, and rolly suitcase they know I have some goods. Being about 5'4" its completely obvious I am unable to handle all of the baggage I bring. Thinking about this situation makes me shutter. Trying to push it out of my head I picture where I could still be. In my hotel room, taking a nice hot bath in my amazing tub. Going down the street to get a coffee where the man at the counter puts in a little something extra when he decorates my plain espresso with chocolate art. Walking along the city walls and looking down on all of the rolling hills of Umbria. I almost burst it to tears I missed it so much already.

So interestingly enough, when I was assigned this writing prompt I thought I knew what I was going to say. I can’t wait to be back in Rome, this place that has become my home. Florence is beautiful but my room is freezing, I hate waking up and not being able to feel my nose. But that’s not how I feel at all. What I would give to be able to crawl away from reality, and stay back in Orvieto. Leave everything behind and just live. I am not excited or happy to be going back to the real world. I know I have to, and I will push through it. Orvieto will always be somewhere.. In my dreams

Mia Famiglia

This is for you guys!!! Tomorrow I leave for Florence.. Bright and Early!! I have chosen not to bring my laptop with me. Lugging in on a train and to a hotel just doesnt seem wise. Plus I feel these 5 days away from the internet will be good for my cultural experience :) hehe. Of course this means I will have no way to contact you.. sad. But dont worry I am sure we will all survive. Also... If you would like any leather goods, olive oil, or balsamic vinegar from Florence or have any requests let me know by 7 am MY time tomorrow. Get on it people. But I will MISS YOU!! Love all of you!! Ciao! (see Im so good at Italian)

The Market Place

I can feel the eyes of the people on the street burning through me. What is it about us that gives us away? The blond hair? Ponytails? White sneakers? There is nothing we can do... We seem to move at a difference pace. Fourteen of us stampeding through their streets. We were lost.. they could tell.. wandering, pretending to blend in, to know our way. Walking fast, talking loud, we are the interrupters. Barging into the market on a mission. We will experience this"Go" "Observe" We split into groups searching. Immediately we are treated like outsiders. "Hello, New York?" they shout as us when we pass. Is it kind of them to greet us in our language. Or should I be offended we stick out like a sore thumb. Derek wants a jacket. 60 euro the man says. Derek will pay 30. The man is not willing to barter with us. People all around are getting lower prices. His things have no price tags. Why? To rip off the obnoxious tourists? The man ends up bringing the price down. 55 euro. Where are the savings? We have already spent so much time at the stall we have probably earned the 5 euro ourselves. Derek feels triumphant. 5 euro. But is it a win? No, he was still taken advantage of. Another boy bought a jacket last week, from a real shop for 30 euro. But a man with a stand at a Market can charge 55? Thats not right. I feel offended. We always worry about treating these people different. The immigrants, the outsiders. But here they take advantage of us. Because we are the immigrants and the outsiders. Is it fair for them to treat us differently when we are here to learn and grow to be more accepting. No we are all hypocrites.

Writing Assignment #3

Sometimes I feel so closed minded, so ignorant of the world around me. Since being in Rome I realize how much I have left to learn. Sure I can spit out some random facts every once and a while. Facts that I picked up watching the history channel for a whole summer. Others are often impressed by my useless knowledge, but really... it has no real significance. Being here learning about the past and the present has been eye opening. I could have never imagined the things that happened on these cobblestone roads centuries ago. There was no way of me knowing that somewhere out side my "perfect world" my family has created for me, people were suffering. Borders didn't exist not in my world. My issues were what cliques there were in high school.. some borders. Going to the Jewish Ghetto on Tuesday taught me so much. While our tour guide spoke I realized how little I knew about the culture. I was almost ashamed. Sinking to the back of the group to listen so no one could watch my shame. How did I not know these things? I couldn't tell you anything about the Jewish peoples beliefs. This made me feel ignorant. During the tour I learned so much, it helped me to expand my own horizons. While we were in the museum is when it really hit me hard. Looking in the last room at all of the receipts from the Blackmailing of the gold, or the concentration camp garb, it jerked at my insides. Piles and piles of receipts, I can almost feel the people rush to find any and all gold in their homes. The feeling of being betrayed, thinking I was safe one moment, and being pulled out of bed the next. The outfit they were forced to wear, in the freezing cold winters. I could feel the draft of the wind, and the itch of the fabric on my skin. It was unpleasant and my body shook with the thoughts of the terrible things they were faced with. But what can I do? There is no way for me to go back and change the past. I can make sure that these peoples suffering doesn't go unnoticed. That I can make a difference. I can prevent these things from ever happening again. The more I can learn about the past, the better I can make the future. This is what I will strive for, I want to make a difference

Independent Research Project

Sijia, Conner, and I will be focusing on religious festivals and processions that go on in the Eternal city. We will each choose one procession and one festival to be focusing our personal research on.

We spent some time online trying to find a specific festivals. It was really challenging to find one that takes place while we are here. This is a really important aspect because then we could see and feel the emotions and the experience. Last time we had check ins Julie showed us this book that we could get that tells all of the goings ons on the week. We will use this tool and hopefully Lisa and Julie can help us get steered in the right direction.

Here are few possible festivals/processions that we have found, one already has happened the others we will just miss one is on April 2nd.

The Pope leads a torchlit "Way of the Cross" procession to the Colosseum on Good Friday.

Capodanno Festival: This festival technically only lasts one day although in combination with New Years Day it constitutes two days. This festival occurs on December 31st annually and involves fireworks and concerts in the public squares of Rome to see in the New Year. The religious highlight of New Years Day involves a procession which takes place in the catacombs.

On one of the longest days of the year, in the golden twilight so characteristic of Rome, thousands gathered along the crest of the Esquiline Hill to participate in the 740th celebration of Corpus Christi. Carrying on a tradition he began many years ago as archbishop of Krakow, Pope John Paul II accompanied the Blessed Sacrament in an hour-long procession along the Via Merulana from the basilica of St. John Lateran, to that of St. Mary Major.

Writing Assignment #2

I will have to be honest; at first I was not too pleased about this assignment. There was a certain part of me that was angry. How can I be asked to go out and talk to people who don’t speak my language to speak to me about their country’s immigration problems? If I were an Italian and some young American dared come try and speak to me, in THEIR language about immigrants I would tell them “GO BACK TO AMERICA!” I stewed about this for a few days, just being upset. There was no way it was possible for me to do this. One night I couldn’t take it any more. I was laying in my room with my roommate Natalia stressing out about this.

“Carisa” she said, “You need to stop being ridiculous, just get over it and do it. It’s not that difficult and people have actually been pretty nice about it, the only trouble is finding someone that can understand you.”

Natalia had already been on a roll with her blog, I feel like she asked every person that passed us on the street. How did she do it? I didn’t understand how she could have the courage to speak to these people. I was still battling this barrier with the Italian language. This border is so hard for me to get past, everyday wishing that I could just understand the simplest things.

It took me a few more days to get this through my head. I needed to push my self, to do this even though I might feel uncomfortable. With out struggle there is no success, I told myself over and over. So for sometime I was searching for the right person. I didn’t know who the right person was, I sort of figured when I saw them I would know. After class I stayed in the Campo, wandering. Every person wasn’t right. They seem like they wouldn’t speak English, they look scary, they are too tall, and they walk to fast. They were all excuses. Even though I had made up my mind I would do this, I was still afraid. Why? A few moments ago sitting in Italian listening to Fede talk about different ways to say doctor in Italian, I was confident. Yet another thing was standing in my way. I went to go sit inside the doors of the Rome center to think (there was no way I was going to walk up all those stairs to my apartment just to walk back down).

It took me awhile but suddenly the panic hit me. What was I going to say? What would be appropriate? Ciao what do you think about the race riots in the South? Are You Racist? What do you think about Africans, or Gypsies, or Americans? What was acceptable? This is what I needed to find out. My family always seemed to tell me “be careful what you say, you never know how people will respond.” Thanks mom and dad, tell me what not to do but not how to get around it. One time when I was about 8 one of my moms friends from work came over for dinner. I specifically remember asking her why she didn’t eat rice all the time like Mulan because she was Asian. Needless to say that didn’t go over to well so I had my first talk about race and offending people. No one ever really tells you how to handle these things, I wonder why? I feel like there should be a book written about what’s socially acceptable.

While my inter monologue was running frantically I heard a “Ciao” come from behind me. Caught a bit off guard, I whipped my head around forgetting to return the greeting. There stood a tall, thin man smoking a cigarette and smiling at me. Roberto the doorman, at that moment I felt more relaxed. “Buona Sera Roberto” I said smiling, he had just saved me from the complete madness of my thoughts. He smiled again and started to head back to his booth where he likes to paint really colorful patterns. All of the sudden I knew. “Roberto, parle inglese?” I said using my brand new skills from Italian class. “Yes” was all he said.

“Do you mind if I ask you some questions? It’s an assignment for class. Don’t worry it wont be to hard.” As soon as I finished talking I realized I was going too fast. So I tried to slow down a bit, “Just a question for school.”

“Yes,” he said again smiling because now we were both on the same page. I knew Roberto was on good terms with the University and I say hi to him every day, so I felt a bit more comfortable asking him this touchy question.

“What do you think about the riots going on in the South?” He seemed confused at first; he didn’t understand the word riot. I needed to try something else, should I say immigrant? Race? This was so difficult! “The fights going on in the south with the immigrants?” That is what finally worked, after a few combinations of simple words this was finally the one I got a response from. I think Roberto forgot for a minute I didn’t speak Italian. He went off on a rant waving his cigarette around, laughing and smiling. I got the feeling he was happy I cared about his opinion, but got a little bit too excited and starting speaking Italian. This is great! I thought he must have a lot to say. Eventually Roberto and I created our own language, Engtalian. Which was our own mix of English and Italian, along with some pretty serious hand gestures.
“When people come to my house, they shouldn’t get things for less than me. People should not take justice into their own hands. Italians for immigrants.” He said in Engtalian. By house I think he meant home, as in Italy as his home. Roberto began to understand that I was now having issues understanding. Taking a long inhale of his cigarette I could see that he was trying to think of a better way to explain.

“When I go to the Market, in the campo. I buy oranges for 2.50 euro for a kilogram. But when the immigrants who (gesture of picking oranges) the oranges want some they pay .25 cents for the same. This is not good.” I understood where Roberto was coming from. Most of them were living here illegally he said previously, and it wasn’t right that they would get such large discounts on things. He seemed to really like his orange story; through out the conversation he told it to me three times. Once in pretty good English, another time in Engtalian, and a final time in Italian. This was a bit odd he would say it in Italian last… because clearly based on the rest of our talk I didn’t know very good Italian. But I could understand the basics. The words oranges- arance, immigrants, kilogram, the numbers, and of course the picking motion. “Si, Yes,” I said trying to let him know that I understood him.

“One side thinks they are good and right. But that doesn’t mean they can take the justice in to their own hands,” he said. “ I am on no side, I think no one is the right one. It is wrong what people are doing to them, but that doesn’t mean they should do things back.”

“That’s a good point, I think you are right,” I told him trying to do so as easy as possible. He was really helpful so far with the language barrier issue. Roberto was understanding about it and made sure to go slow for me. I asked him a few more questions, but really the same ideas kept coming up. Although we both were willing to try and converse it was really difficult. There were only so many things we could say to each other. The conversation ended quickly after this point. Roberto had nothing more to say that I could understand, and I couldn’t ask him anything else. “Grazie Roberto” I said smiling, extremely grateful he was willing to speak to me.

“Prego” he said back, “Buona Notte.”

I feel amazing that I completed this. Even though I didn’t talk so some stranger on the street. It was still a step for me. I feel like now it will be easier for me to speak to others. I know there will be some common ground. With Roberto most of the time it was hand movements, or words that had something to do with food. But I made this assignment much more difficult for my self then it should have been. Walking up the six flights of steps, where I knew my magical bed and my intensive itunes library was waiting for me, I felt confident. Yes, it was because I had finished the hardest part of my homework, but there was more to it. Small accomplishments like this help me to grow as a person. The thought of breaking down the border of language, what I think almost everyone would agree is the biggest struggle, was almost exhilarating. On the inside I was celebrating. I wanted to jump up and down (and if I wasn’t exhausted I probably would have).

Colosseum and The Roman Forum

Here are a plethora of photographs for you guys. It was rainy all day which was sad. But there was something eerie about standing in the Colosseum with the dark weather. Also included is a lovely picture of me and my fantabulous professor. Oh and thats Natalia my roommate with the sweet blue umbrella.

Borders in a Borderless World

“If we really want to know what borders mean to people, then we need to listen to their personal and group narratives. Bringing theses case study narratives together at an aggregate level should help us understand the notions of ‘difference’ and ‘other’ in the real daily lives of people, rather than as abstract sociological constructs.”

This quote is important to the entire article. It helps us understand how the study of borders has progressed. At first being something so physical and now is so physiological in many ways. I chose this because I thought it fit the theme of our class perfectly. It is one thing to talk about borders and study facts. But to actually be able to speak to people and read actual accounts of people makes things much more real. Even reading the Salvation story opened my eyes to things that I didn’t even think about. Its much more effective to actually feel these peoples pain. Rather than just look at statistics.

Writing Assignment #1

In my opinion the most impressive qualities of the human race is our ability to communicate. We all under appreciate how important it is to be able to convey our wants and needs to others. There are over 6500 languages spoken today and to think that we can easily communicate with most of these is incredible.

Since being in Rome communication has become a more prominent focus in my daily life. Having to ask directions, order, or just talk is developing into a whole ordeal. Whipping out my handy Italian phrase book every second to do things as simple as asking for a bill. This is the biggest struggle and border that I have faced here.

Seconds after stepping off the plane I already had to face my first challenge. There were signs everywhere. Still a bit groggy from my attempted napping on the plane, I stumbled off with my passport in hand waiting to escape the madness of the crowd. But I was lost. There I stood on the platform… there were two trains. Which one was the one for me? Frantically trying to read all of the signs and flipping through the pages of my Italian phrase book. I turned to ask others on the platform for some guidance. First I asked an old couple. They looked at me almost awestruck that I was speaking to them, then rolled their eyes and jumped on a train. So I turned to a group of people, trying to use a bit more Italian now. “Mi scusi, dov’e borse?” It was almost embarrassing to use my jumbled up words. The group stared at me for a brief second, and then continued their own conversation.

Alright I needed to do this on my own, I would take the next train. While is pulled into the terminal I grabbed my luggage and prepped my self to fight the mad rush of people trying to get on to the train. There was no going back now, the train was moving and I was on it. People were everywhere. We were all mashed together along with tons of rolly suitcases. As we pulled into the next terminal I closed my eyes and wished really hard I had gotten on the right train. The boy next to me seemed to notice my small panic attack. “Don’t worry this takes us to baggage claim,” he said seeming to notice my distress. He was an exchange student from Illinois studying in Turkey for the rest of the semester. We stuck together through customs then we split for baggage claim since I was meeting someone for a ride. Thank god for Americans and their politeness. I never would have thought that it was possible for people to be ruder than Americans. But somehow the Italians have managed.

Through out the week I have only continued to experience the boarder that is setting me apart from everyone. The inability to communicate and speak to people is really starting to get to me. I hope that between Italian class and my own ambition to learn more this border will start to come down. But all I have is time; because I know that it wont happen right away.

Capitoline Hill

Today for Art History Class we visited the Capitoline Hill. We learned about the myths of the founding of Rome. Then we went into the Capitoline Museums. It was a really great day! I came home and I feel exhausted!! I was high on art and had a major crash!!! But it was AMAZING! Are you guys ready for a million pictures?? I know I havent been writing as much.. but I know all you do it look at my pictures :) and I will tell you all about them when I come home, so dont worry. Anyways here are some pictures of the Capitoline!

Crepes!

GROUP DINNER IN GIRLS KITCHEN!! CREPES!!!