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Last Night a Roma

Mother Mary Hasselblad of Santa Brigida Convent

Mother Mary Hasselblad of Santa Brigida Convent

How to do you study a nun’s habit without staring?  That is the question.  I am fascinated with the headpiece.  It looks like a halo held in place with a plus sign on top. Or is it an open air battle ready helmet, but made of hard cardboard like the priests collars? The headpiece the nuns wear is fashioned the same as the headpiece that Mother Mary Hasselblad wore. I saw Mother Hasselblad’s picture in the chapel. Their headpiece must determine their association with Santa Brigida.  In the daytime, outside the convent, the nuns walk in pairs carrying an umbrella between them to block the suns rays. In the Rome heat it would be as hot as a furnace under all that get up. I think your head would be sweating from that halo contraption.

The Market Hardware Stand

The Market Hardware Stand

Small Streets for Dining

Small Streets for Dining

Tonight we are walking to Piazza Navona to eat. There are so many people out and about on this Saturday night, but I wonder if it is always busy with tourists? The markets are still flourishing so I look at the hardware stand. I buy little glass jars to put the Italian spices in that I bought at another stall. I also buy a can of coffee to take to the apartment in Montepulciano.   The espresso coffee is four euro for a pound and the date of use is good until 2014.  I’m good to go. We could look for hours here there is so much to see, but we move on after our purchases. We get to the only street corner that so far has a stoplight, although stoplights here are only a suggestion.  Nobody stops. There is a police woman here tonight and I think that is odd.  The polizia wear big thick white gun holsters that cross over the body like you would wear a purse you didn’t want stolen. They don’t holster around the waist. Suddenly we hear sirens.  Lots of sirens.  Two motorcycle police whiz by like they are going to a fire.  The police woman jumps into action preventing anyone from crossing the street. The man in front of me says, “Holy Papa, Holy Papa.”  And sure enough here comes a black Mercedes and in the back seat is a smiling and waving Pope Francis.  Everyone on the street is waving and shouting.  It was quite the moment.  How lucky we were to be at that place at that time! After the Holy Papa passes by the police woman vanishes into the crowd as more motorcycles zip past.

Piazza Navona

Piazza Navona

Piazza Navona

Piazza Navona

In the Piazza Navona tonight there are artists of all kinds. Some painting absentmindedly, with their palettes of beautiful colors, while others watch. There is also a large crowd gathered around a man in a straight jacket and chains. It is like being at the circus. Young good looking men are selling rubber band rockets that shoot high into the sky, then flash bright colors, before falling back to the ground where they run to pick them up and do it all over again. In the background the huge fountain provides a backdrop for the photo takers. We sit at the oldest restaurant on the piazza dating 1836.  The food is so-so, but the people watching is fantastic. We return to the Convent again around midnight and I wonder what is in store for us tonight.

The Angel on the Corner

The Angel on the Corner

We are not disappointed.  We still hear people walking and talking as they return to their  homes, but around 3am there is a blood curdling scream of “aiutarmi, aiutarmi!” Help me!  Help me! I also hear the voices of people trying to quiet the man down.  My first thought is he is on drugs.  He gets quiet only to start up minutes later, “aiutarmi, aiutarmi!”  I then hear the doors of Santa Brigida open and the soft voice of a nun trying to comfort him. Everything gets quiet then and I finally fall asleep. In the morning after breakfast with the priests, the nun calls a cab for us to take to the train station. A very old man, speaking only Italian, pulls up and can hardly lift our suitcases to the trunk. We are off to Montepulciano!

Late Night in Roma

Via Della Concilazione

Via Della Concilazione

St Peter's

St Peter’s

The wall around St Peters Square

The Wall Around St Peters Square

The front and main entrance to the church at Santa Brigida faces the square of the Piazza Farnese. Looking out from Santa Brigida to the right on the piazza is the Farnese Palazzo, now the French Embassy.  There is a guard house for the armed soldiers, who carry angry looking machine guns.  A utility vehicle painted in camouflage  looks well equipped with anything needed in a crisis.   Armed guards constantly patrol the grounds of the embassy. Two armed soldiers are posted at the vehicle at all times. The piazza is small and quiet with no markets set up during the day and no hawkers shooting off the plastic rockets that glow like firecrackers when propelled into the night sky. During the day tourists sit on the long marble bench in front of the embassy to rest.

Our room at the convent faced the small cobbled side street and as we looked out our tall narrow window of the room we could see the embassy to the left and a small bar in the next block to the right.  We could hear people walking and talking in the street below despite the fact we were up four floors from the ground level of the street.  Sound travels. The serenading began at 1am.  A group of boys, either drunk or just happy sat on the steps of the building across from the convent and sang loudly and with gusto until 3 AM.  Evidently the guards at the embassy like singing and are trained to stay at their posts and keep a look out, never interfering unless there is a disturbance in the piazza or a run on the building. They are not diverted to singing groups on the side street. The side street is off limits. It’s a good thing we got sleep on the flight over.

The next morning broke clear, sunny and very warm. We went to the breakfast room and were greeted by a nun who was serving two priests an early breakfast. We had the choice of frutta, yoghurt, cereali, salami, fromaggio, caffe e spramuta d’ rancia. (I am practicing my Italian) We decided to walk early in the day, while it was cooler, to the Vatican and I am so glad we did. Staying at the convent is so convenient, despite the outdoor noises, because you can walk to all the main attractions. We walked to the Tiber River and crossing a different bridge than yesterday passed Castel Sant’ Angelo and walked on to St Peter’s Square, which is really round.  At this early hour there were few tourists so we could get some good pictures without heads or bodies in the way. The shops and cafes along Via Della Conciliazione were open at this hour too.  The street cleaners were out with witches brooms sweeping away the last bits of dirt on the sidewalks.  The street cleaning machines started up right after the serenading died down. Hey, maybe the singers ARE the street cleaning machine operators!  The Italians clean the streets early every morning with the same gusto as the singers! Cleaning starts in around 4AM.  We walked on to the square and were greeted by hawkers who could get us in the Vatican, no line. I don’t think so.  I know there is always a long line. There is a great deal of construction going on near the Vatican now so there are many detours to get around the  square and up to the museum. When we finally arrived at the museum that entrance was closed off so we retraced our steps back to St Peters Square. When we got there, there were  hundreds of people winding in a line to get into the Vatican.  We passed around the wrought iron fence designating we were now in Vatican City, a country all it’s own.  We stopped to look at the wares of a man selling Vatican novelties.  He told us he was the only merchant allowed to sell inside Vatican City, on church and state property. His family had sold here from 1945 and the license was passed down through the generations.  He was very nice and telling the truth.  We circled St Peters and never saw another vender inside the fencing.  We went back to him and bought rosaries and tiny, tiny bottles of holy water.  He gave us St Francis medals to wear.  He told us business would not be good today since the crowd was expected to be over 200,000 for the dedications of the Confraternity.  There were a bazillion metal chairs set in the square and that is where the lines were winding as they waited to get into the Vatican.  We hi-tailed out of there before the crowds became worse and stopped at more shops along the way.  I was looking for a Nativity scene.  I have a large set with many shepherds, cows and donkeys and of course the Holy Family.  I wanted a little itsy bitsy one and found it.  Made of hand carved wood it is Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus about one inch tall, all in one tiny piece. Perfetto!  We also bought post cards and posted them in the Vatican City post office.  We then found the stop for the red open air double decker buses, thanks to two Italian girls who overheard us talking and gave us directions. We decided to take a tour of the city.  It was beginning to get HOT so we bought gelato and boarded the bus, climbing to the top.  It is a good way to rest and get a suntan at the same time. After the bus tour we walked back to the Convent passing large groups of people dressed in colorful robes and carrying large banners while praying and walking to the Vatican.  These were the Confraternities.  They were being honored with a mass with the Holy Papa.  Time for a nap to rest up for the evening passegiatta!

The Colosseum

The Colosseum

From the Tour Bus in Roma

From the Tour Bus in Roma

DSCN0187

My Take on Magnificent Corpses

Duomo Florence Italy

Duomo Florence Italy

The Duomo, Milan, Italy

The Duomo, Milan, Italy

The Duomo, Milan, Italy

The Duomo, Milan, Italy

I find myself drawn to historical books (and some not so historical) about saints, pilgrimages, the Medici clan, Leonardo da Vinci and the Catholic Church. All throughout Italy there are beautiful small churches, grand duomos, magnificent basilicas, filled with beautiful earth shattering art and sculptures. When I was in high school I had to take an art appreciation class as a freshman and I hated it. Pictures in a book. However, when I went to Italy and saw the real McCoy I wanted to know more.  Who were the painters, the sculptors, the saints?  What did it all mean? In the churches I had known,  there might be a small cross, maybe a statue of Mary, or stained glass windows of Jesus as a shepherd with baby lambs. Church buildings looked to be a gymnasium. You get the picture. The Italian church soared into an azure sky, the pink marble glistened in the sun, the saints peered down at you.  In Italy the fresco scenes were filled with gnashing of bodies or cherub angels floating across an Italian landscape.  Sometimes both in the same scene. The detail and brilliance of color and depth in the scenes of people in deep distress or in a trance beyond words was captivating. There were armored men going on crusade urging their followers forward. A woman standing steadfast while  holding  the bloody head of a man in her gnarly strong hand.  The  man  triumphant over the defeated slain dragon. The pictures became real.  The pictures told stories.  You didn’t even have to know the story, you got the message. No matter what language you spoke, words weren’t necessary.  The frescoes and paintings said it all. Passion.  Faith.

The Duomo, Milan, Italy

The Duomo, Milan, Italy

And I wanted to know more about those bones.  Those pieces of bodies and what they were there for.  I think the first relic (term for holy bits and pieces of people or their clothing) I remember and payed any attention to, was inside a tiny glass window lit up in an alcove in a small exit way leaving a church. It was a hand.  I thought well that is odd and went up closer to take a better look.  It was a real shriveled up cut off hand.  I wasn’t sure what to do. I looked around me. Do you act like you didn’t see it?  Ho hum that’s nice. Do you drop to your knees and pray?  Why was that there? I was taken back.  I had to know more. So I decided to read up on it. Hence, I started reading that………

During the early years of the church, the body parts of holy people were highly prized and sought after for their healing powers, and brought fame and followers to any church that presented these body parts or even the clothing these people wore. Remember the man touching Jesus’  clothing and being healed?  So rich patrons and crusaders scoured the holy lands and returned with their riches to put them on display in their local churches.  Or perhaps a holy person died and was buried on the spot. Believers came to this site to pray.  A church was built. More people came.   The believing flock became the first tourists.  In those days the only reason to leave home was to go to war or go on pilgrimage.  Sometimes a penance of traveling to a particular holy place to pray, repent and receive forgiveness was given to the sinner. The penitent had a lot of time along the way to think things over.  The road was not easy. Some would be killed along the way and would never return to their homeland. The Holy Land was too far for most.  Rome was a good choice, centrally located, and the Way of St James or the Camino de Santiago through France and Spain was best for others. Most of the people could not read or write.  Story telling frescoes, awe inspiring churches rising to the heavens to meet God and the bodies of saints brought the people to the churches. My adventures to following the saints in books began with………

Sant Bartholomew

Sant Bartholomew

A Stolen Tongue by Sheri Holman, documents the travels and travails through the journals of Father Felix Fabri to find his spiritual mate Saint Katherine of Alexandria. Her  broken body parts are scattered in several churches and have gone missing.  He carries her dried up tongue in a pouch around his neck. He needs to find her. Need I say more?  Who would not want to know what happens along his path? I was hooked.

Over the years I have read  The Holy Feast and Holy Fast, Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women by Caroline Walker BynumHoly Holidays; the Catholic Origins of Celebration by Greg Tobin,  Why Do Catholics Eat Fish on Friday?: The Catholic Origin to Just About Anything by Michael P. Foley, Catholicism for Dummies by John Trigilio and Kenneth BrighentiThe Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, and just about every book written about the Way of St James or El Camino de Santiago. I have studied the saints……. and their

Magnificent Corpses. This book written by Anneli Rufus is a travel book with a difference.  It encourages you to seek unheard of places contemplating on life and relics of life and what we regard as holy.  Anneli focuses not only on the saints, but on  the people who come to see them. She follows fifteen of the saints through Italy.  So what does this all mean?  If you build it and believe it,  they will come.  And we do. Abundantly.

Church, Milan, Italy

Church of Santa Maria delle Grazie, Milan, Italy

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