Little Sirs of Roma

Hello, dear readers,
I hope that you all survived the Rapture alright, but if you no longer read this blog because you've been taken up to heaven, well, I'll understand. If you've stuck around with the rest of us however, and would like to hear about my time in Rome, you've found the right place.

Our adventures in Rome began more or less as soon as we disembarked from the train. It turns out that our hotel reservation had been cancelled and no one had told us - surprise! That was pleasant. So we're in Rome, it's 10:30 on a Saturday night, and we have no place to stay. Rome is full on a Saturday night at 10:30, as we found out when we began canvassing the hotels in the area. And by canvassing I mean begging someone to give us a room. It got a little bit tense - I think that we were all envisioning sleeping in the train station and being kidnapped and sold into an international prostitution ring, and I have to say, that was not on the top of my list of things to do on holiday. So these were the thoughts that were dancing in our heads as we stumbled into yet another hotel, only to be told that they were full for the night. The concierge took pity on us, though, and called around to see if he could find a room for us. After a few disappointments he found what I believe was the only free room in all of Rome that night, and it was just down the street. He gave us directions and sent us off with the words, "The man's name is Giovanni - he's a little weird, but he's a personal friend, so you'll be okay." With this promising start, we troopd down the street to find the hotel.

Giovanni had obviously been warned that three American women were going to be heading in his direction, because he was waiting for us outside his trattoria. Giovanni is probably 5 foot 5 inches on a tall day, he's ginger, and he took Sarah's hand and started kissing it after she said, "Are you Giovanni? I am so glad to see you!" I don't make these people up. He handed us over to his buddy Pasquale, who is probably 5 foot 6 inches on a tall day and speaks no English whatsoever, but is the most delightful person in the entire city of Rome. Pasquale brought us upstairs to our room, and with the help of Sarah's Italian proceeded to show us how everything in our room worked - we're talking light switches, shower, bathroom fan, the lock on the door - the whole nine yards. Turns out that he has a daughter our age, so he took a fancy to us. He even walked us to the cashpoint so that we could get money to pay for the room, and he didn't even overcharge us outrageously, as he could have done. The next morning, he gave us free cappuccinos and lemon cake for breakfast and circled all of the attractions that we needed to see on our map, and he moved our bags to a new room that had enough beds for all of us. We shared a queen-sized bed between the three of us the first night, but we were so relieved to have a room that it didn't matter in the slightest.


Heaving HUGE sighs of relief in our teeny hotel room in Rome - thanks to Giovanni and Pasquale, what could have been an absolutely terrible situation was turned into a rather pleasant experience, and we could sleep well before a busy day of exploring as much of Rome as possible. We're also doing a nice job of representing the red, white, and blue.


Not quite what we expected to see - thankfully, we didn't try to find a room here, as we wouldn't have been able to leave!


Our day of sightseeing began properly with a trip to the Colosseum! It was SO COOL. We were just walking down the street, and then, bam! Colosseum! There were a lot of buskers here, including a gentleman dressed as a Native American who was playing "The Sound of Silence" on his panpipes all day long.


The Arch of Constantine, who was crowned emperor in York - fun fact connection to England!


Looking across the Colosseum to where the important people, such as the emperor, would have sat. The entire thing used to be covered in marble, and the seats were numbered. The games here would have lasted for three months.


When in Rome, go ahead and embarrass yourself. You only live once.


Stadium Palatinum on Palatine Hill, where the emperor used to live. He would hold private gladiator games here if he didn't feel like mixing with mere mortals at the Colosseum. It's good to be in charge.


Palatine Hill, the most important of Rome's seven hills. This is the ruins of the Domus Flavia, where there used to be a fountain. According to our guide, this was the dining room, and meals here could last up to six hours. People would just keep throwing up after each course and then they'd start again because being able to supply your guests with enough food to feed an entire continent was a sign of wealth and prestige. Today that's called a tactical chunder, I believe, to give it its technical term.


View onto the Roman Forum from Palatine Hill - no big deal.


The Temple of Romulus, one of the legendary founders of Rome. Supposedly he and his twin brother, Remus, founded the city, but Romulus killed Remus and took all of the power for himself. Nice guy. Fun fact - the doors on this temple are two thousand years old, and they still lock. Amazing.


We were wandering down the street after leaving the Forum and just happened across Trajan's Column! Alright, so we followed the map, but still, these things are just there. It's insane.


The Pantheon! It's hard to get an idea of what it looks like from this photo, though.


Inside the Pantheon - architects still don't know how the Romans constructed this ceiling, which is pretty cool. While we were there, someone let a balloon go and everyone clapped when it floated through the hole in the ceiling.


Ara Pacis, the Altar of Augustinian Peace, consecrated in 9 B.C.


Making my wish at Trevi Fountain.


The Vatican Museum, 7 a.m. We hauled ourselves out of bed at 6 in order to beat the queues here after our tour guide told us that we shouldn't even bother. Determined to prove him wrong, we beat the crowds and made it into the museum in good time. When we left, the queue stretched around almost three sides of Vatican City. Good decision, us.


Raphael's famous "School of Athens" in the Stanze di Rafaele, built for Pope Julius II in the 1510s. My tour through my art history textbook was continuing nicely.


The famous Swiss Guards at St. Peter's Basilica. I felt horribly guilty taking this picture, but it had to be done.


The altar in St. Peter's Basilica, which is absolutely gorgeous. I have to say, though, that every time I visit a famous church or cathedral like this, I am blown away by how much money the Church has.


Art History 102 continues with Bernini's plan for St. Peter's Square, which was being set up for Easter mass while we were there.


Pasquale, our favourite Roman sir.

So there it is, Rome in under 48 hours. We saw so many amazing things, and we didn't even want to kill each other by the end of it! After doing Vatican City, we stopped for a much needed gelato break (have I mentioned the gelato in Italy? So amazing) and then got our train to Napoli, where the whirlwind continued! That's for another post, though. Right now I'm struggling to a) revise for my exam on Victorian Britain and b) wrap my mind around the fact that in exactly three weeks I'll be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on my way back to the United States. It's a terrifying thought. I'm about to leave everything that has defined my life for the past year. I don't know exactly how much this year has changed me, but I know that it's been quite a lot, and it's very difficult to not think of Norwich as home. When I consider being back in the States, I feel as though it will be like going to a foreign country again - I'm going to have to get used to the American way of living again. Part of me is getting more and more excited, but the majority of me just wants to stay here.

Florence in a Day? Allons-y!

Dear Reader,

I married him. (Just kidding. But gold star for you if you got the Jane Eyre reference!) Our day in Florence did not involve me getting married, but it did involve lots of beautiful art and architecture - it was very much like taking the first few weeks of art history again, except I was seeing everything in real life. Anyway, we woke up to a beautiful, sunny morning in Florence and began our day's adventures at a market, where we got bread and apples for almost no money. We ate on the steps of the Basilica San Lorenzo, watching the tour groups and the astonishing number of couples who stopped to make out in the middle of the street. Discretion didn't appear to be a major concern in Italy. Following our breakfast of champions, we set off to take in all of Florence that we possibly could before our train that evening.


We began at the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, which was completed in 1436 when Filippo Brunelleschi worked out how to build the beautiful dome, which was an engineering marvel at the time. It was the highest dome built at that time, and used no external buttresses for support, ergo Brunelleschi = wizard.


Across the square is the Florence Baptistry, with Lorenzo Ghiberti's famous Gates of Paradise. He won the contract to carve the door panels with biblical scenes after his panel depicting the sacrifice of Isaac beat Brunelleschi's in a competition.


Close-up of the Gates of Paradise - most of the panels depict scenes of Christ's life.


Ta da! Michelangelo's "David." This is only a replica, but it stands where the original used to be in Piazza della Signoria. It is very impressive in real life, and it is enormous!

This is actually more or less where my photos of Florence run out, because we spent the rest of the day queuing to get into the Uffizi, the massive art museum. We queued for at least two hours, but it was worth it - it was a beautiful day, we still had lots to catch up on, the area around the Uffizi was gorgeous, and there were lots and lots of buskers there to take advantage of tourists who were not travelling on student budgets. We found out that it was actually the tail end of Culture Week, which meant free admission to the museum, so that was especially awesome. We spent the afternoon admiring works by Giotto, Botticelli, Raphael, da Vinci, Michelangelo - basically any famous Italian Renaissance artist. I am so glad that I decided to take art history last year, because I would have had no appreciation for what I was seeing otherwise. I was surprised at how many families with very young children were in the museum, as well. I admire the parents for travelling with such young children, but part of me wonders what the point was - they're travelling through these incredible places, but the kids aren't going to remember much, if anything at all, and something tells me that most of the kids that we saw didn't have a keen appreciation for Renaissance art. Sarah, Caitlin, and I decided that this was probably the most opportune time to take a trip like this - we have the time, we have the energy, but we also have the educational background to appeciate what we are seeing in these beautiful places. Please don't read that last sentence as me being pretentious - I don't mean to. But this year has made me realize how little appeciation I had for the amazing places that I visited when I was in Europe four years ago because I didn't bother to educate myself, and I really regret that. Hence my obsession with historical information and walking tours.

So that was Florence - we managed to see most of the sites on our list in under 24 hours, which I think is pretty impressive. It seemed like a beautiful city, and I would have liked to see more, but Rome was calling. We grabbed sandwiches and caught our train to the Eternal City, but our adventures for the day were certainly not over. More on that in my next post.

The Whirlwind Begins: Venice

Dear Grandpa (and anyone else who happens to stumble across this),

I know that I have been most remiss in updating about my travel adventures lately, of which there have been many, so I am going to try to remedy that by beginning the narrative of my spring break adventures. I had the fantastic opportunity to take a once in a lifetime trip through Italy and Croatia with Sarah and Caitlin, two of my housemates from Dickinson, and it was incredible. We hit eight cities in two countries over ten days, so we were just on the move all of the time. We got to see so many amazing things and just had a blast the entire time.

Sarah and Caitlin had been travelling for almost four weeks already, so I was meeting them in Florence on Friday evening, after having a day in Venice. I booked a flight from London bright and early - 6:30 a.m.! My odyssey therefore began very late on Thursday night, when I caught the midnight thirty coach from Norwich to Stansted Airport in London. This was the first time that I had ever done any significant travelling by myself, and I was really nervous about it, actually - it's one thing to go with friends, but when you're flying from one country where you don't really live to another country where you definitely don't live and don't even speak the language, then spending the entire day by yourself in that country before figuring out the train schedule in order to meet your friends in a different city entirely, it's a little bit daunting. And have I mentioned that I'm a terrible flyer? So it was with some anxiety that I got on the coach, which turned out to be the loneliest ride of my life. But I made it to Stansted around 4 a.m., when the airport was just opening, and eventually made it onto my flight. If you've never waited in a queu for Ryanair at 4:00 in the morning, surrounded by grumpy travellers who are complaining about luggage restrictions and the fact that there is only one person checking passports for the massive queu of people trying to catch planes, you should - it builds character. My plan to deprive myself of sleep so that I would be too tired to be anxious on the flight worked - I fell asleep about half way through and woke up just as we were passing over the Italian Alps, which were absolutely beautiful. I think that's when I knew I would be okay: I could do this. After that I started feeling rather pleased with myself.

The feeling continued when we landed and it was sunny and warm, even at 9:30 in the morning. All thoughts of sleep vanished in an instant as excitement overtook anxiety. I struck up an acquaintance on the bus from the airport into Venice, basically because I kept asking the guy sitting next to me all sorts of deep and meaningful questions, such as, "Is this seat taken?" and "This is going to Venice, right?" It didn't take long for me to notice his decided lack of accent, so I asked him where he was from, and the ensuing conversation went something like this:
me: "Where are you from?"
Lorenzo: "California. What about you?" (Strange but true: every American you meet abroad is from either California or Connecticut.)
me: "Connecticut (see?). So are you here on holiday, then?"
L: "Well, I'm meeting my parents here tomorrow to travel with them, but I study abroad in England."
me: "Oh, me too! Where do you study?"
L: It's this kind of random city called Norwich."
me: *stares*

Travel Buddy Lorenzo, as he shall henceforward be known, and I wound up spending most of the day together, as neither of us had a real plan of attack for the day, and it was much nicer than spending the day alone. We decided to just wander the streets in the general direction of the Piazza San Marco and see what we could find. This turned out to be a great plan, because Venice's streets are absolutely impossible to navigate. They are narrow, twisting, and not marked on any maps. Some end abruptly in canals, some narrow down into nothingness, some go in a square, so it's easier to not even try to follow any kind of course. The brilliant thing that Venice has done, however, realizing that this poses something of a problem for tourists and anyone who has not lived in the city for at least five years, is to put up yellow signs every few hundred feet that point you in the direction of the major attractions, such as the Piazza San Marco, Ponte de Rialto, the train station, etc. It's a great system - as long as you generally follow these signs, you'll get where you want to go, but you'll get to explore the maze of Venetian side streets as you go. And Venice's streets are worth exploring. Everywhere you turn looks like a postcard, and there are gorgeous buildings just hidden away.


This was our first proper view of Venice as we crossed the Ponte Scalzi from the train station, which is in the westernmost bit of the city. The views kept getting better, believe it or not. Everything that I remembered about how beautiful Venice is from four years ago has definitely held true.


Obligatory tourist photo, courtesy of Travel Buddy Lorenzo.


Scuola Grande San Giovanni Evangelista, one of the gorgeous buildings that we literally stumbled upon after wandering in circles for about ten minutes trying to figure out how to keep walking without having to go for a swim in one of the canals.


The beautiful Ponte de Rialto over the Grand Canal.


The beautiful view down the Grand Canal from the beautiful Ponte de Rialto - so much beautiful.


Piazza San Marco - you can see the Basilica di San Marco in the centre of the shot, and then the campanille (bell tower) on the right.


Some of the amazing ceiling mosaics in the Basilica - the entire building looked like this, but no photographs were allowed inside.


The courtyard of the Palazzo Ducale, or the Doge's Palace, home to the Doge and all of the governing bodies of Venice during the Venetian Empire. Incidentally, it is also home to the largest oil painting in the world, and to the famous Bridge of Sighs, which was unfortunately being renovated while I was there, so it was surrounded by bright blue tarp.


Gondola ride, anyone?

Travel Buddy Lorenzo and I hung around the Piazza San Marco for a while - we got gelato for lunch and sat in the sun, talking, watching the other tourists, and generally just enjoying the fact that we were in Venice. He went on to continue exploring after lunch while I stayed in the Piazza to knock off some touristy things before I had to leave. A friend had recommended the Doge's Palace, so I wandered through all of the various chambers of the complicated Venetian government. It was absolutely beautiful, and by the time that I was finished there it was high time to meander my way back to the train station. So, following the amazingly helpful yellow signs (you know, England, you should really take note here, given your own issues with clear signage), I trotted my way back across the city, enjoying the gorgeous views all the way. I've only explored Venice on the very surface - my total time there over two visits probably amounts to about twelve hours - but as far as first impressions go, it is one of my favourite cities. It's just so beautiful and has so much character. So, so worth a visit, and a return visit. I'm really glad that I didn't cut that part of my trip out in order to meet Sarah and Caitlin earlier, because it was the perfect start to my trip. And I proved to myself that I can travel on my own - I can get myself from A to B without any major catastrophes, I can make friends with fellow travellers, and I can have one of the best days in my recent memory.

I made it to the station in plenty of time to catch my train to Firenze (Florence - I was confused, too). I wish that I could tell you about the beautiful Italian countryside that we passed through, but I fell asleep as soon as the train started moving, and woke up just as we were coming into Florence. Sarah and Caitlin met me at the train station, and we spent the rest of the evening catching up on life and on sleep, which was much needed as we were going to explore Florence the next day!

One Hell of a Week

A close reading of the title will reveal at least two possible interpretations: 1) that the week has been hell because I have been doing nothing except writing three large and important papers (true), and 2) that it has been an astonishing week in terms of world events (also true). I had to do a triple-take on Monday morning when I was perusing the BBC headlines online and saw that Osama bin Laden had been killed. Even after I had read the news article properly, it didn't sink in. Ten years brought to a conclusion in a single night - it's unreal.

As good liberal arts students engaging the world, Travel Buddy Jesse (just arrived to Norwich from a semester in India) and I discussed our feelings concerning bin Laden's death over pancakes and tea (I'm a converted tea-drinker now). I was still working on absorbing the news, but I was not feeling any of the wild enthusiasm that seemed to be buzzing around Facebook. My news feed had exploded with people celebrating bin Laden's death - Dickinson seems to have gone absolutely mad, and judging from the YouTube videos and the campus-wide emails following Sunday night, things got out of hand. I understand that the actions of a few students who acted out inappropriately have reflected negatively on a much larger number of students who maintained their self-control and had more thoughtful reactions. But the drunken revelries and swinging from lamp posts that have popped up on YouTube, and especially the slandering of the ROTC program, are extremely disappointing. We are so much better than that Dickinson, as we proved earlier this semester when we succeeded in forcing the administration to review the school's sexual assault policy. After being removed from campus for a year, hearing about behaviour like this is upsetting.

And it's not just Dickinson - that's just close to home. The fact that people were gathered in the streets chanting, "USA! USA!" seems really disturbing to me. This is not the Olympics - it is the death of a person. Again, I understand that there is an entire spectrum of reactions, and the actions of people on the news do not represent most of the nation. I also understand that this person was the most wanted man in the world, that he masterminded attacks that killed thousands of people and broke apart thousands of families, for no other reason than his hatred of America. But to celebrate his death in such a loud, enthusiastic fashion strikes me as inappropriate.

First of all, bin Laden's death does not mean that our problems with terrorist groups are going to come to an end. I am not trying to diminish the military's accomplishment in any way, but I don't know how much this is going to change the War on Terror. The primary figurehead is dead, yes, but just a few days before bin Laden was killed the Taliban announced their spring offensive, and now the entire world is on alert for retaliatory attacks. The issues that bin Laden stood for still exitst. Secondly, I see the death of Osama bin Laden not so much as a victory but as a signal of a failure to reach any kind of cross-cultural understanding. It was a failure on the parts of both groups to step out of a narrow mindset in order to understand the persepective of the other side, and both sides resorted to violence. The past ten years have perpetuated dangerous stereotypes both about Americans and about Muslims. We saw this when we visited a mosque in London at the beginning of our time here - the man who was supposed to be talking with us assumed our complete ignorance of Islam, and we were unable to enter into any kind of fruitful dialogue. There is still so much work to do, and I am worried that the rowdy celebrations that have graced the news in the past few days are going to reflect badly on American culture. After all, what does it say about us that we meet the news of a death with chants and confetti?

This question comes partly from the fact that I've spent the past nine months living in a country that, although it tolerates Americans, seems to think that we're all crass, loud, and either like former President George Bush or the cast of Jersey Shore. One of my friends derives great joy from posting videos of stupid Americans on my Facebook wall (think Jay Walking, then multiply it). During the first few weeks of my time here, one of my flatmates (who is now a wonderful friend) said to me, "Wow, so not all Americans are stupid, then." I was both a little bit flattered and a lot a bit disturbed, and it made me reconsider the image that America projects to the rest of the world: we are the biggest, baddest kid on the playground when it comes to international politics, and then we broadcast trashy shows such as Jersey Shore or The Real Housewives of No One Actually Cares Where . No wonder the rest of the world has such a warped view of us.

The rest of the inspiration comes from my recent musings on various codes of conduct. I've been working on a paper arguing that Sir Thomas Malory's canonical text Le Morte d'Arthur is actually a critique of King Arthur for failing to establish a successful code of behaviour for the Round Table, eventually leading to its ruin. (Yes, I reference King Arthur when I discuss current affairs. He's a legendary hero - part of his role is to act as a vehicle for modern ideals and anxieties. And yes, that is the thesis of another one of the papers that I'm working on, although that one is about Robin Hood.) Arthur in Malory's text resorts to violence, as well - "Might over Right," as it is sometimes referred to. Other medieval texts, especially romances, also criticize this approach and advocate instead the code of "Right over Might." I think that this breakdown applies equally well to America - we seem to be a nation of Might over Right, and historically that is not sustainable.

I do not want to sound un-American, and I really do hope that Osama bin Laden's death can bring some peace to those families who lost loved ones in the September 11 attacks. But being removed from the country for so long has made me think a lot about America's global image, and I do not necessarily like what I have found. In Britain, there was no rioting or crazy celebrating at the news of bin Laden's death (at least, not that made the national news). Even this country's latest day of celebration, the Royal Wedding, was met with a proper measure of dignified excitement. It was a big deal. A really Big Deal. But nothing got out of hand, and everyone conducted themselves well - as the commentators on the BBC live coverage said, it was a great day to be British. Part of this was the famous British reserve that is definitely still present in the Royal Family even if it is decreasing elsewhere - Kate Middleton was actually praised for her reserve throughout her relationship with Prince William - but part of it is common sense, I believe, and the realization that just because people are celebrating does not mean that they have to make complete idiots of themselves. After all, the entire world was watching. While I think that the pomp, circumstance, and solemnity that surrounded the Royal Wedding was a bit much, I think that there is a valuable lesson to be learned about public conduct and public image.

I'm sorry if I'm sounding like an ex-patriot. There are a number of things that I value about America - our Constitution, our education system, our efficiency, our ability to deal with snow quickly and effectively, our diversity as a nation - but part of the whole study abroad experience is supposed to be gaining a better awareness of your own country and how it has affected you. I am undeniably an American - my accent says so, my passport says so, my world view says so. I grew up as an American, and it is where I come from both physically and philosophically. It influences the way that I see the world and the preconceptions that I have, but I have realized this year that it does not have to define me. This really dawned on me when I arrived at London Stansted Airport from Croatia. The customs officer asked me what I was doing in England, stamped my visa, and said, "Welcome back" as he handed me my passport emblazoned with the gold eagle on the front, declaring me "American! American!" He acknowledged that this was not my only defining characteristic, however - he saw that I was a student, a traveller, someone out to see the world, and he was welcoming me back to the place that I have called home for the past nine months. I can change the way that I think about the world, I can change where I am going from here. America is my past and it influences my present and will continue to influence my future, but it does not dominate that future. I can disagree with my country, and I do not always have to be proud of it.

Alright, I'm done for now, promise. My next update will follow soon - my papers are due in on Monday. I just gave myself a break today because I finished all of my drafts (huzzah!!!!). But I'll post about happier things next time, like Venice!