Sunday, April 24, 2005
Thursday, April 21, 2005
...and we're off!
I'll be gone until Monday. Don't be offended if I don't immediately respond to your emails. I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Field Museum Internship
I was selected as an intern at the Field Museum of Chicago!
Three cheers for income and education all wrapped up into one position!
Three cheers for income and education all wrapped up into one position!
War Museum
Yesterday, Maura and I met up for our weekly museum run. This week: the War Museum.
The War Museum is one of the most fascinating in Athens. One interesting aspect is the display of weapons from all over the world, from all different times. One wing of the first floor is devoted to an eclectic collection of swords, guns, and armor. I viewed a traditional Turkish sword from the 17th century in the same room as an 18th century Japanese sword. The display cases were labeled in typical Greek format. One case was titled, "Luxurious European Rifles." Another was titled, "European Armor." This made me laugh because Europe is definitely a big place and there was no attempt to distinguish the obvious cultural and functional differences in the weapons.
The next floor was devoted to WWII, Korea, and Cyprus. The photos were particularly fascinating because they were unlike typical ones you'd see in the States. Greece's history during that war is complicated and often known by few. I wish the statistics would have been translated into English, but from what Maura could gather 80,000 Germans occupied Greece and executed 100,000. The walls were labeled, "Navy 1941-1944" or "Liberation Movement" and contained corresponding photos. One photo showed young children who had been starved and was labeled, "Victims of the Famine." I suppose this implies the occupying forces starved the locals, not the failure of the land to support the people.
I had no idea that Greece was involved in the peace-keeping mission to Korea. I should read up on this.
The Cyprus exhibit was noteworthy because of the obvious propaganda used in the description plates on the walls. Cyprus remains a hot topic with Turkey and the bad blood runs quite deep. The plate said, "Even today the Turks continue to murder our unarmed, innocent eighteen-year-old boys in cold blood." When I consider the Greek cultural context in which this was written, it doesn't surprise me at all.
The War Museum continues to exhibit the material manifestations of human bitterness in the past and present.
The War Museum is one of the most fascinating in Athens. One interesting aspect is the display of weapons from all over the world, from all different times. One wing of the first floor is devoted to an eclectic collection of swords, guns, and armor. I viewed a traditional Turkish sword from the 17th century in the same room as an 18th century Japanese sword. The display cases were labeled in typical Greek format. One case was titled, "Luxurious European Rifles." Another was titled, "European Armor." This made me laugh because Europe is definitely a big place and there was no attempt to distinguish the obvious cultural and functional differences in the weapons.
The next floor was devoted to WWII, Korea, and Cyprus. The photos were particularly fascinating because they were unlike typical ones you'd see in the States. Greece's history during that war is complicated and often known by few. I wish the statistics would have been translated into English, but from what Maura could gather 80,000 Germans occupied Greece and executed 100,000. The walls were labeled, "Navy 1941-1944" or "Liberation Movement" and contained corresponding photos. One photo showed young children who had been starved and was labeled, "Victims of the Famine." I suppose this implies the occupying forces starved the locals, not the failure of the land to support the people.
I had no idea that Greece was involved in the peace-keeping mission to Korea. I should read up on this.
The Cyprus exhibit was noteworthy because of the obvious propaganda used in the description plates on the walls. Cyprus remains a hot topic with Turkey and the bad blood runs quite deep. The plate said, "Even today the Turks continue to murder our unarmed, innocent eighteen-year-old boys in cold blood." When I consider the Greek cultural context in which this was written, it doesn't surprise me at all.
The War Museum continues to exhibit the material manifestations of human bitterness in the past and present.
Monday, April 18, 2005
US Ambassador to Greece
The US Ambassador to Greece spoke at CYA today. He is a really interesting guy with a lot of interesting things to say about Greece (specifically Greece's policies toward the Balkans and Middle East). I had a question to ask him about immigration in the EU, but he ran out of time and his bodyguard whisked him away. It is important to note that I left with a good feeling toward the foreign service...at least this particular individual's service. He was totally candid and sincerely wanted to answer our questions. I wish I had the opportunity to ask mine!
Dust Storm
Yesterday was an odd day for weather. It was quite humid in Athens, and about mid-day, the sky turned a funny, yellow color. At first I thought, "The smog is terrible today!" but then realized that I've seen this kind of sky before...in Eastern Washington, after the potato fields have been dug up and a wind storm carries off all the topsoil. So here I was, in Athens, witnessing a dust storm...only this dust was carried all the way from the Sahara in Africa. Go figure!
Sunday, April 17, 2005
A message from Prof. Gaffney
I received this email from Prof. Gaffney (anthro faculty, academic advisor, Holy Cross priest) after tellling him of my trip to Rome:
Dear Noelle,
Thanks for the note. I hope all is well, and please know that I am delegating you as my personal representative at the Pope's funeral! I just heard on NPR this evening that the city officials in Rome have declared that the "city is now full" and they are advising others to stay away. Ha, Ha, fat chance! Rome is in for a super-duper crowd and there's nothing the mayor and his advisors are going to be able to do to stop it. Pope J-P is the man and we all want to pay our respects. So, deal with it, friends, Romans, and countrymen!
He's quite a guy.
Dear Noelle,
Thanks for the note. I hope all is well, and please know that I am delegating you as my personal representative at the Pope's funeral! I just heard on NPR this evening that the city officials in Rome have declared that the "city is now full" and they are advising others to stay away. Ha, Ha, fat chance! Rome is in for a super-duper crowd and there's nothing the mayor and his advisors are going to be able to do to stop it. Pope J-P is the man and we all want to pay our respects. So, deal with it, friends, Romans, and countrymen!
He's quite a guy.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Registration
Whew! I registered for next semester. Here are my classes:
Spanish 202
Anthro Theory (I took the very last spot)
Culture & Conflict in the Pacific
Native Peoples of North America
Advanced Human Evolution
WOOT!
Spanish 202
Anthro Theory (I took the very last spot)
Culture & Conflict in the Pacific
Native Peoples of North America
Advanced Human Evolution
WOOT!
Monday, April 11, 2005
Rome-Pope's Funeral
What words can describe the experience...
historic
amazing
beautiful
I was in St. Peter's Square for the Pope's funeral.
I can honestly say it was the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.
This is how it happened:
Wednesday:
I flew in at 9 AM. I jumped onto a train to the heart of the city. From there I took the metro to a stop near St. Peter's. This was the beginning of craziness. There was a line to board the metro, and when it was our turn, we were directed by volunteers in flourescent uniforms to "San Pietro, San Pietro, San Pietro" as they herded us like cattle into the cars. I knew I was headed in the right direction.
I got in line to see the Pope's body at 10 AM. At 6 PM, I took a 15 minute break. At 9 PM, I was told there were five more hours to go, admitted defeat, and left the line. Those eleven hours turned out to be one of the most trying times of my life. Firstly, I was by myself and everyone around me spoke either Italian or Polish, so I had no one to talk to. Have you ever tried to listen without comprehension for eleven hours straight? Secondly, the crowd was PACKED. There was absolutely NO personal space. People were packed so closely, I could feel their pulses. Thirdly, I had all my stuff. Many others would rest their arms and such on my backpack to the point where my shoulders began to ache from the extra weight. Fourth, the constant jolts from others bumping almost made me lose my mind. We would move ahead four feet, wait twenty minutes, move six feet, wait thirty minutes. There was one block that took two hours to pass. I felt myself on the verge of "flipping out" which is something I haven't experienced before. It was just too much for me. Yet, there were moments of brilliance during this trial. I witnessed several people praying the rosary...the entire way. There were little old nuns who proved themselves tougher than their twenty-one year old counterpart. People would get frustrated, but then remember why they were there and would encourage each other with jokes and anecdotes.
That night I stayed at a campground they had setup for World Youth Day 2000. It was free and I had a sleeping bag, so I was set. They put me in a tent with three other Polish girls. Luckily, all three spoke English. Maria and Agata had hitchhiked from Poland to Rome. They were expecting to arrive a day later but, "The luck with cars was good." Magdalene lives in Vienna with her "man" and her four year old daughter, Emmanuele. She told me that anytime I go to Vienna I can stay with her and she will show me the city. She also wants to practice her English with me, so we're going to stay in correspondence.
Thursday:
Because Katie flew in later that evening, I did the tourist thing. I tried to see St. Mary Maggiore, but it was closed. I'm still in awe of the building though. I visited the Roman forum, the prison where both Paul and Peter were supposedly held, and the Colosseum.
Arch of Titus
Arch of Constantine
House of Virgins
Temple of Zeus
Another tholos building resembling the one in Delphi
While I was waiting to meet Katie at the Colosseum, four police cars pulled up and out came...Pres. Yuschenko of the Ukraine! It was obvious who he was and many took the opportunity to shake his hand. I took a video of it: Rome-Pres. Yuschenko.AVI
(This may take a while to download.)
Rome was very good to its visitors. Free bottled water was stacked up everywhere. Volunteers were easy to find and were helpful...even when they didn't speak English, Spanish, or Greek. Huge televisions were set up all around the city so people could watch the funeral.
At this point I thought there was no way I was getting close to the Vatican. I thought it was already shut down for the foreign dignitaries and that people were already lined up for the funeral.
When Katie arrived, I told her how I'd narrowly gone insane. She replied with, "I didn't come here to watch the funeral on television." So, we hopped on the metro and tried our luck. [Katie managed to hop right into a tight spot when she didn't "mind the gap" between the train and the platform. She freaked out for a second because she thought her leg was going to be maimed, but pulled it out just in time.]
We arrived and were herded in the same direction I took the day before. However, when we asked around we were told that we could not see the Pope...ever again. BUT...if we waited in that spot, we would be in line to enter the funeral the following day. It was about 9 PM and they were going to open up the gates at 6 AM. So, Katie and I looked around, shrugged our shoulders and laid out our sleeping bags. I have slept in the middle of a Roman intersection. We were on the street with many, many other people and their sleeping bags.
That night was a very memorable one. We met a Frenchman named Vincent who asked us if we were American and if he could set his sleeping bag next to ours. He told us, "I like to speak English." We talked for a while, but he nodded off early. There were SO MANY Polish people there, most of which had flags or some other means of identification. They would spontaneously break out into their national anthem, and many would cry upon hearing it. Another song commonly sung was "Pescadores del hombres," the refrain of which goes:
Oh Lord, with your eyes set upon me
Gently smiling, you have spoken my name.
All I long for, I have found by the water,
At your side, I will seek other shores.
I was not aware that the song was so universal. Luckily I know the harmony to the song, so I joined in. Every so often groups of people would chant, "Giovanni Paolo" and clap successive beats. This was usually sparked by youth groups who had immense energy and charisma.
I have to say it was quite a comfortable place to be, on the street. It was warm because of everyone's body heat. I was sung to sleep by a neighboring group of Poles who sang hymns in four-part harmony.
At 4 AM, everyone packed up and was standing. I was a little aggravated because we had another two hours until we would be moving anywhere, but packed up before I got trampled. At 5:45 AM, some Italian volunteer got on a megaphone and told us to be patient and that we'd all have to go through metal detectors, one-by-one. I think he mentioned that we may not be a group that got in...to that the Italians reacted like Italians do and I predicted a riot. However, the megaphone guy started telling jokes and such, so it blew over...especially when we all realized that we WERE going to get in.
While in line, we had the pleasure of standing next to a very interesting group of guys. I have NO IDEA what their nationalities were. It was HILARIOUS. These guys spoke multi-lingually...all the time. They switched from French, to German, to Polish, to Italian, to American English...and they were damn funny. I will hazard a guess that they were probably all different nationalities and that during each one's travels they had met up and became friends. They were definitely the "backpacking in Europe for as long as we have food" kind of group. One guy had a dredlock goatee and rattail. It made me want to backpack in Europe, become multilingual, and dred my hair.
We stood in line until about 8:30 AM. We had to pass through several checkpoints of nicely dressed Italian guards. Before entering the square, we were required to go through a metal detector. Katie and I picked out a spot about midway to the front. We were on the right side of the obelisk, in front of the fountain. Here is the view from our spot. We could easily see the Papal apartments and a great part of the crowd.
Mass:
Beautiful.
Powerful.
Universal.
Taking part in a mass with 100,000 people within the Square, and millions of people lined up on streets in Rome is something I will never forget. You can see in this photo the television with a picture of the square filled to capacity.
When they brought out the coffin, all the emotions leading up to then were released in tears. Up until then I don't think I realized the enormity of what Pope John Paul accomplished. The Vatican guards led the way and the simple, cyprus coffin was laid in the center for all to see.
Mass was said in multiple languages: Latin and Italian for most (the homily was in Italian), the readings were in Spanish and English, the petitions were in French, Swahili, Filippino, Portugese, Polish, and German. The offering was taken up by representatives of all over the world in traditional costume. (I believe all the continents were represented)
The music consisted of an exceptional organist accompanied by a choir of priests and choir boys. I was in awe. Long have I appreciated the beauty of liturgical music, but this was the unreal.
Communion was given to all everyone who wanted to receive it. This was logistically difficult, but wonderfully executed. The sight of tens of thousands of people taking communion at once made me cry. It was yet another aspect that I can only describe as "beautiful."
View a video of one of the closing prayers: Rome-Mass.AVI
(This may take a while to download.)
After the Catholic rite was over, the Oriental Catholic and Orthodox representatives performed a short rite of their own. They chanted and incensed the coffin. It was an interesting contrasts to the Western chanting we're used to and their stoles and robes were very ornate.
Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, the crowd applauded the deceased...and applauded...and chanted his name...and applauded...until JPII's coffin was out of view. Again, I cried. I kept thinking, "God, grant me the strength and patience to do as many good things as this man did." There was a finality in this guesture of applause, quite unlike any other.
Throughout the square, hundreds of people waved flags. There were a great many Polish flags, but there were also flags from other nations, areas, and groups like Solidarity. It gave the viewer a sense of the universality of the church.
Two women from "Whode Ialand" happened to stand behind us. They were sweet, sweet older ladies. They asked why we didn't have our flag out, and winked. "I know. We're all afraid." is what one said. [Katie likes to compare it the situation to the US. "You know in the States there are Asian gangs and Black Pride. But did you ever hear of Caucasian Pride? No! I mean, they're called the KKK." Ok, maybe not a perfect analogy, but a funny one nonetheless.]
While people were filing out, Katie and I decided to wait in the square. In fact, we took a nap...in St. Peter's. Many Poles got together and gathered around the obelisk to sing their national anthem and hymns. Some were dressed in traditional costume as well. When we awoke, we found that we were in fact lying in garbage. There was so much left after the funeral that it started blowing around and resting in lower spots in the cobbles. So, we decided that we were going to take a walk around. I asked for a photo with some volunteers and was kindly lent a hat.
Also in attendance at the funeral were Bush, Rice, Chirac, Karzai, Anan, Yuschenko, and...Mini Maura. Because Maura couldn't make it in person, we made sure to document the spirit of her attendance. Katie was the talented artist, and I held her in my back pocket.
Friday night we slept in the Notre Dame Architecture program's studio. We finally met up with Meredith who, bless her heart, fed us Italian food.
Saturday:
We visited the Pantheon, which is still as amazing as it was the first time I saw it. We got a tour of St. Ignatius, let by Mer. Ate a wonderful lunch, at which the owner of the place sent us over free pasta and Fragolino (sweet, strawberry desert wine). Then, we ate wonderful gelato and I experienced a Dude Where's My Car moment. The guy serving the gelato said, "Cone?" I said, "Yes. Pistaccio, Baci...." He said, "And?" "And cream." "And?" "And cream." "Aaaannnddd?" "And anything.!" "Cherry?" "Ok, cherry." "Cream?" "Cream." It was hilarious...and delicious.
All in all, it was a wonderful experience. Although I used quite a few of them, words cannot describe...
Special thanks go out to:
my parents-who were generous enough to grant me this opportunity
Poland-for giving us such a wonderful pontiff
Italian volunteers-who were patient, not matter how many times I asked
the City of Rome-for all the free water
Meredith-for the Pantheon and St. Ignatius tour, plus lunch AND gelato
ND Studio (Rome)-for a dry place to sleep
historic
amazing
beautiful
I was in St. Peter's Square for the Pope's funeral.
I can honestly say it was the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed.
This is how it happened:
Wednesday:
I flew in at 9 AM. I jumped onto a train to the heart of the city. From there I took the metro to a stop near St. Peter's. This was the beginning of craziness. There was a line to board the metro, and when it was our turn, we were directed by volunteers in flourescent uniforms to "San Pietro, San Pietro, San Pietro" as they herded us like cattle into the cars. I knew I was headed in the right direction.
I got in line to see the Pope's body at 10 AM. At 6 PM, I took a 15 minute break. At 9 PM, I was told there were five more hours to go, admitted defeat, and left the line. Those eleven hours turned out to be one of the most trying times of my life. Firstly, I was by myself and everyone around me spoke either Italian or Polish, so I had no one to talk to. Have you ever tried to listen without comprehension for eleven hours straight? Secondly, the crowd was PACKED. There was absolutely NO personal space. People were packed so closely, I could feel their pulses. Thirdly, I had all my stuff. Many others would rest their arms and such on my backpack to the point where my shoulders began to ache from the extra weight. Fourth, the constant jolts from others bumping almost made me lose my mind. We would move ahead four feet, wait twenty minutes, move six feet, wait thirty minutes. There was one block that took two hours to pass. I felt myself on the verge of "flipping out" which is something I haven't experienced before. It was just too much for me. Yet, there were moments of brilliance during this trial. I witnessed several people praying the rosary...the entire way. There were little old nuns who proved themselves tougher than their twenty-one year old counterpart. People would get frustrated, but then remember why they were there and would encourage each other with jokes and anecdotes.
That night I stayed at a campground they had setup for World Youth Day 2000. It was free and I had a sleeping bag, so I was set. They put me in a tent with three other Polish girls. Luckily, all three spoke English. Maria and Agata had hitchhiked from Poland to Rome. They were expecting to arrive a day later but, "The luck with cars was good." Magdalene lives in Vienna with her "man" and her four year old daughter, Emmanuele. She told me that anytime I go to Vienna I can stay with her and she will show me the city. She also wants to practice her English with me, so we're going to stay in correspondence.
Thursday:
Because Katie flew in later that evening, I did the tourist thing. I tried to see St. Mary Maggiore, but it was closed. I'm still in awe of the building though. I visited the Roman forum, the prison where both Paul and Peter were supposedly held, and the Colosseum.
Arch of Titus
Arch of Constantine
House of Virgins
Temple of Zeus
Another tholos building resembling the one in Delphi
While I was waiting to meet Katie at the Colosseum, four police cars pulled up and out came...Pres. Yuschenko of the Ukraine! It was obvious who he was and many took the opportunity to shake his hand. I took a video of it: Rome-Pres. Yuschenko.AVI
(This may take a while to download.)
Rome was very good to its visitors. Free bottled water was stacked up everywhere. Volunteers were easy to find and were helpful...even when they didn't speak English, Spanish, or Greek. Huge televisions were set up all around the city so people could watch the funeral.
At this point I thought there was no way I was getting close to the Vatican. I thought it was already shut down for the foreign dignitaries and that people were already lined up for the funeral.
When Katie arrived, I told her how I'd narrowly gone insane. She replied with, "I didn't come here to watch the funeral on television." So, we hopped on the metro and tried our luck. [Katie managed to hop right into a tight spot when she didn't "mind the gap" between the train and the platform. She freaked out for a second because she thought her leg was going to be maimed, but pulled it out just in time.]
We arrived and were herded in the same direction I took the day before. However, when we asked around we were told that we could not see the Pope...ever again. BUT...if we waited in that spot, we would be in line to enter the funeral the following day. It was about 9 PM and they were going to open up the gates at 6 AM. So, Katie and I looked around, shrugged our shoulders and laid out our sleeping bags. I have slept in the middle of a Roman intersection. We were on the street with many, many other people and their sleeping bags.
That night was a very memorable one. We met a Frenchman named Vincent who asked us if we were American and if he could set his sleeping bag next to ours. He told us, "I like to speak English." We talked for a while, but he nodded off early. There were SO MANY Polish people there, most of which had flags or some other means of identification. They would spontaneously break out into their national anthem, and many would cry upon hearing it. Another song commonly sung was "Pescadores del hombres," the refrain of which goes:
Oh Lord, with your eyes set upon me
Gently smiling, you have spoken my name.
All I long for, I have found by the water,
At your side, I will seek other shores.
I was not aware that the song was so universal. Luckily I know the harmony to the song, so I joined in. Every so often groups of people would chant, "Giovanni Paolo" and clap successive beats. This was usually sparked by youth groups who had immense energy and charisma.
I have to say it was quite a comfortable place to be, on the street. It was warm because of everyone's body heat. I was sung to sleep by a neighboring group of Poles who sang hymns in four-part harmony.
At 4 AM, everyone packed up and was standing. I was a little aggravated because we had another two hours until we would be moving anywhere, but packed up before I got trampled. At 5:45 AM, some Italian volunteer got on a megaphone and told us to be patient and that we'd all have to go through metal detectors, one-by-one. I think he mentioned that we may not be a group that got in...to that the Italians reacted like Italians do and I predicted a riot. However, the megaphone guy started telling jokes and such, so it blew over...especially when we all realized that we WERE going to get in.
While in line, we had the pleasure of standing next to a very interesting group of guys. I have NO IDEA what their nationalities were. It was HILARIOUS. These guys spoke multi-lingually...all the time. They switched from French, to German, to Polish, to Italian, to American English...and they were damn funny. I will hazard a guess that they were probably all different nationalities and that during each one's travels they had met up and became friends. They were definitely the "backpacking in Europe for as long as we have food" kind of group. One guy had a dredlock goatee and rattail. It made me want to backpack in Europe, become multilingual, and dred my hair.
We stood in line until about 8:30 AM. We had to pass through several checkpoints of nicely dressed Italian guards. Before entering the square, we were required to go through a metal detector. Katie and I picked out a spot about midway to the front. We were on the right side of the obelisk, in front of the fountain. Here is the view from our spot. We could easily see the Papal apartments and a great part of the crowd.
Mass:
Beautiful.
Powerful.
Universal.
Taking part in a mass with 100,000 people within the Square, and millions of people lined up on streets in Rome is something I will never forget. You can see in this photo the television with a picture of the square filled to capacity.
When they brought out the coffin, all the emotions leading up to then were released in tears. Up until then I don't think I realized the enormity of what Pope John Paul accomplished. The Vatican guards led the way and the simple, cyprus coffin was laid in the center for all to see.
Mass was said in multiple languages: Latin and Italian for most (the homily was in Italian), the readings were in Spanish and English, the petitions were in French, Swahili, Filippino, Portugese, Polish, and German. The offering was taken up by representatives of all over the world in traditional costume. (I believe all the continents were represented)
The music consisted of an exceptional organist accompanied by a choir of priests and choir boys. I was in awe. Long have I appreciated the beauty of liturgical music, but this was the unreal.
Communion was given to all everyone who wanted to receive it. This was logistically difficult, but wonderfully executed. The sight of tens of thousands of people taking communion at once made me cry. It was yet another aspect that I can only describe as "beautiful."
View a video of one of the closing prayers: Rome-Mass.AVI
(This may take a while to download.)
After the Catholic rite was over, the Oriental Catholic and Orthodox representatives performed a short rite of their own. They chanted and incensed the coffin. It was an interesting contrasts to the Western chanting we're used to and their stoles and robes were very ornate.
Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, the crowd applauded the deceased...and applauded...and chanted his name...and applauded...until JPII's coffin was out of view. Again, I cried. I kept thinking, "God, grant me the strength and patience to do as many good things as this man did." There was a finality in this guesture of applause, quite unlike any other.
Throughout the square, hundreds of people waved flags. There were a great many Polish flags, but there were also flags from other nations, areas, and groups like Solidarity. It gave the viewer a sense of the universality of the church.
Two women from "Whode Ialand" happened to stand behind us. They were sweet, sweet older ladies. They asked why we didn't have our flag out, and winked. "I know. We're all afraid." is what one said. [Katie likes to compare it the situation to the US. "You know in the States there are Asian gangs and Black Pride. But did you ever hear of Caucasian Pride? No! I mean, they're called the KKK." Ok, maybe not a perfect analogy, but a funny one nonetheless.]
While people were filing out, Katie and I decided to wait in the square. In fact, we took a nap...in St. Peter's. Many Poles got together and gathered around the obelisk to sing their national anthem and hymns. Some were dressed in traditional costume as well. When we awoke, we found that we were in fact lying in garbage. There was so much left after the funeral that it started blowing around and resting in lower spots in the cobbles. So, we decided that we were going to take a walk around. I asked for a photo with some volunteers and was kindly lent a hat.
Also in attendance at the funeral were Bush, Rice, Chirac, Karzai, Anan, Yuschenko, and...Mini Maura. Because Maura couldn't make it in person, we made sure to document the spirit of her attendance. Katie was the talented artist, and I held her in my back pocket.
Friday night we slept in the Notre Dame Architecture program's studio. We finally met up with Meredith who, bless her heart, fed us Italian food.
Saturday:
We visited the Pantheon, which is still as amazing as it was the first time I saw it. We got a tour of St. Ignatius, let by Mer. Ate a wonderful lunch, at which the owner of the place sent us over free pasta and Fragolino (sweet, strawberry desert wine). Then, we ate wonderful gelato and I experienced a Dude Where's My Car moment. The guy serving the gelato said, "Cone?" I said, "Yes. Pistaccio, Baci...." He said, "And?" "And cream." "And?" "And cream." "Aaaannnddd?" "And anything.!" "Cherry?" "Ok, cherry." "Cream?" "Cream." It was hilarious...and delicious.
All in all, it was a wonderful experience. Although I used quite a few of them, words cannot describe...
Special thanks go out to:
my parents-who were generous enough to grant me this opportunity
Poland-for giving us such a wonderful pontiff
Italian volunteers-who were patient, not matter how many times I asked
the City of Rome-for all the free water
Meredith-for the Pantheon and St. Ignatius tour, plus lunch AND gelato
ND Studio (Rome)-for a dry place to sleep
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Rome
I'm back from a 10 day "vacation."
Firstly, Happy Easter to everyone on the "western" calendar. The Catholic church here has adapted to the "eastern" calendar, so my Easter will be celebrated five weeks later than all of yours.
Vacation included:
-a mock Easter dinner with The Family, Maura, Manos, Lucianna, and Katie's best friend Mercador (visiting)
-a day trip to Meteora
-a field trip to Thessaloniki and northern Greece
I leave for the Pope's funeral in Rome on Wednesday, so I will not be able to post about our vacationing adventures until next week.
I must say that I've found it very frustrating to be in this Orthodox country right now. Upon telling a staff member that I was planning on going to Rome, she replied, "You're going to spend all that money on just a funeral? Ah, well, you will find other things to do in Rome. You DO know it will be unbelievably crowded right?" ... I was completely insulted (I thought about telling her what I DID know) but bit my tongue to be polite. I was sent to Giocarinis, the director of studies, and he told me, "Look, I cannot excuse that. I mean, he was a wonderful person, an important figure in the world. I would like to go there too, but there are academic responsibilities to consider." ... Sigh, I think there's a bit of a difference in our situations. Can the guy understand the magnitude to which this would affect a Catholic? I would miss two days of class and a day-long field trip to a place I can visit on my own. So, not wanting to burn my bridges that cross the Aegean, I bit my tongue again. I immediately went online and booked my tickets. I don't deny my academic responsibilities (I haven't missed a single class this entire semester), but there exists also the religious responsibility of a religious person who cannot pass up the opportunity to witness an important event such as this one. I'm a two-hour flight away. For the record, I'm also an adult and can do whatever I damn well please, not matter how much money I want to spend on "just a funeral."
Firstly, Happy Easter to everyone on the "western" calendar. The Catholic church here has adapted to the "eastern" calendar, so my Easter will be celebrated five weeks later than all of yours.
Vacation included:
-a mock Easter dinner with The Family, Maura, Manos, Lucianna, and Katie's best friend Mercador (visiting)
-a day trip to Meteora
-a field trip to Thessaloniki and northern Greece
I leave for the Pope's funeral in Rome on Wednesday, so I will not be able to post about our vacationing adventures until next week.
I must say that I've found it very frustrating to be in this Orthodox country right now. Upon telling a staff member that I was planning on going to Rome, she replied, "You're going to spend all that money on just a funeral? Ah, well, you will find other things to do in Rome. You DO know it will be unbelievably crowded right?" ... I was completely insulted (I thought about telling her what I DID know) but bit my tongue to be polite. I was sent to Giocarinis, the director of studies, and he told me, "Look, I cannot excuse that. I mean, he was a wonderful person, an important figure in the world. I would like to go there too, but there are academic responsibilities to consider." ... Sigh, I think there's a bit of a difference in our situations. Can the guy understand the magnitude to which this would affect a Catholic? I would miss two days of class and a day-long field trip to a place I can visit on my own. So, not wanting to burn my bridges that cross the Aegean, I bit my tongue again. I immediately went online and booked my tickets. I don't deny my academic responsibilities (I haven't missed a single class this entire semester), but there exists also the religious responsibility of a religious person who cannot pass up the opportunity to witness an important event such as this one. I'm a two-hour flight away. For the record, I'm also an adult and can do whatever I damn well please, not matter how much money I want to spend on "just a funeral."
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Happy Birthday April
21, and still counting...
Here's to you and hoping that you'll still be able to count by the end of the night!
Here's to you and hoping that you'll still be able to count by the end of the night!
Friday, April 01, 2005
Happy Birthday Mazzillo
Arrr, tis Cap'n Bloody Nose Mazzillo's grog day!
Throw ye back tat yonder ouzo!
Throw ye back tat yonder ouzo!
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