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9-20... blending in yet or what? |
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written
by Kaia Chessen / 07.04.2004 |
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Itinerary |
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This morning at approximately 1 a.m., Megan and I returned to our apartment from a night full of good food, adventure, and many perplexed and/or blank stares at our map of Rome. I automatically set my alarm clock for 7 hours later. Eight o'clock is almost always my daily wake up time in order to arrive for our morning walks at 9.
As soon as my head hit the pillow I was as still and lifeless as a rock (lifeless except for my apparent snoring which Megan made sure to fill me in on in the morning). What seemed to be moments later, the room was vibrating with the irate screams of my morning alarm. Could it really be time to get up already? The digital 8,:, and two 0's glaring stubbornly at me insisted that it was.
As I slowly, persistantly rose and brushed my teeth, Megan was already up and dressed. She would check our schedule for the day. I told her where I had stashed the information, but assured her it would be the same routine as always. Meet the group fashionably late and follow Shawn, our fearless leader, on our planned daily trek throught the city.
Megan's subsequent discovery proved me wrong. "10:00," she groaned. "We meet an hour later today. Do you think we can get back to sleep?". Before she had finished her sentence, my head was back on the pillow and I was snoring again.
After we rose a second time, we met the group and took off in the direction of Palatine hill, one of the seven historic hills of Rome. As we approached, Shawn informed us that these would be the last ruins we'd see as a class. It struck us all with that comment that our days are numbered in Roma. We have less than a week in the ancient city we've spent a month befriending.
As we walked around the ruins of Emporers' palaces of centuries ago, looked out at Circus Maximus (which once was home to chariot races), and walked across eroding original marble floors having once belonged to Augustus and Constantine, it occurred to us that we were losing our initial sense of awe. No longer was the antiquity of Rome as overwhelming or extraordinary as it once was. We are all becoming accustomed, jaded. Walking past an old emperor's courtyard, our fearless leader pointed out, "There's a bunch of old dead columns". Ancient ruins maintained for thousands of years, seen by hundreds upon hundreds of generations and all we can see is "old" and "dead". We all smiled, nodding in agreement.
"Is this what it is to be Roman?", Alley and I were talking amongst ourselves, "Walking by the Colosseum, the Forum, the Pantheon, and not thinking twice about their grandeur or importance?"
"Yeah," Alley smiled to herself, "Next we'll get out the spray-paint."
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Highlights |
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Catching up with my fellow classmates on what they did over the two day break. Everyone went their separate directions, had separate adventures. We all had stories to share.
Sleeping an extra hour this morning. Mmmmmm, sleeeeep.
The falafel, latte riso, and baklavah I picked up for lunch! I had forgotten that Greece is so close-by until I tried the Greek food here. It's by far the best Greek food I've ever tasted. Heaven in a pita-pocket.
Seeing my favorite fruit vendors in the Campo De Fiori. The stand is run by a family (mother, father, son, black lab). You have to be careful, because Lilo, the father, likes to pinch cheeks, but nevertheless, I always know I have friends in that giant outdoor market.
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Images |
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| "Old Dead Columns" |
| - the wong |
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This picture will give you a vague idea of what we saw today on Palatine hill. We stood above the scene to the right, the emporers, Augustus and perhaps others, would sit and watch the activities from the above left where the wall begins to concave before the edge of the picture cuts it off. In the back of the grassy courtyard was once a track where sporting events took place and in the foreground, lay the previously mentioned "old, dead columns". In the background, blocked by the ruin walls, is Circus Maximus, once a great chariot-racing track, now a plain field which one would never notice if it wasn't so historically significant. It makes you wonder how many magnificent things we walk by in a day to which we pay hardly a glance.
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