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The Long Walk |
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written
by ninamil7 / 10.24.2005 |
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Part 1: |
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The beautiful Protestant Cemetery is an oasis from the dirty, busy streets just outside its walls. Upon entering the cemetery, a visitor is overcome with a scene of life: stray cats wander between tombstones, giant beetles scatter across the pathways, and beautiful greenery fills the space between each gravesite. The presence of life in a place that is traditionally full of death is a welcome feeling to the visitor coming to mourn a loss or remember a soul. Each tombstone that protrudes from the well-kept greenery is unique and personal. In this way, the intentionality of the cemetery becomes clear. It is a place to forget about the world outside its walls and visit an old family member, or perhaps just sit on a bench and contemplate the kind of people that lay to rest beneath your feet.
Just a short distance from the Protestant Cemetery is another cemetery with a much different style and feel. The British military cemetery sits just inside the outer wall of Rome with a total of 429 tombstones to mark the deaths of British soldiers during World War II. The cemetery itself is quite peaceful, but its intentionality is of a different kind than the Protestant Cemetery. Instead of scattered tombstones in a garden of foliage, the almost identical grave markers are arranged in a structured pattern. The individuality of each tombstone is not apparent until you come close enough to read the epitaphs. War cemeteries in general have a different intentionality than other cemeteries. They not only mark a site to mourn the loss of soldiers, but also a place to remember a battle or an entire war.
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Part 3: |
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It is nearly impossible to practice aesthetic distance at the central market at the Piazza Testaccio. The smells alone command your attention from the first step under the covered market. At the onset of my stroll around the market, my attention was drawn to a stand selling fresh fish -- I hate the smell of fish. I have detested seafood for as long as I can remember, so I dodged that stand and searched for something to relieve me of the lingering fish smell. I found just the thing as I approached a fruit stand. To my delight, fresh peaches, oranges, melons, and apples were abound. On the other side of the stand, I watched a an old Italian man slowly pick up and put down a number of peaches until he found the one he was looking for. There was a certain air to him that reminded me of my grandpa and made me feel a connection with this stranger. I couldn’t help but smile as he bought his peach and walked away.
The idea of sharing a 3,000-year-old tradition did not escape me as I wandered around the market. Upon entering I was yet another American tourist at heart, but by the time I left I was one step closer to finding a real connection with the Roman people. I had embraced their tradition and way of life, and I got to participate in a daily acitivity common to many Roman residents.
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