April 27th: My half birthday.

Exactly 6 months ago was when I booked this Rome trip. Everyone always said I was crazy and they are 100% correct. I decided today that I am going to write a book on things NOT to do in life.
Examples of things NOT to do in life:
1. Wear a white sweater while eating gelato.
2. Ask other tourists for directions.
3. Pay more attention to the drink in your hand than your jacket that you left laying on the table.
4. Leave your place without an umbrella knowing that it’s going to rain.
5. Email companies to see if they hire interns for one day.
6. Go on a 3-month trip without planning anything.

Culture shock and doubt hit me hard this morning so I reached out for help via Facebook. Thank God for the kind strangers in the world. Stephanie responded quickly with a lunch invite.

But first! I had a destination in mind for today. I successfully illegally used the public transportation of the tram and the bus and made it to the Vatican City where me and my thousands of other tourists made our way to the greatest museum in Rome, featuring the famous Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling. I waited in line for about an hour where I was pushed and manhandled in, what was like a heard of farm animals, by angry, old German men and young, wild French schoolgirls. How can such “cultured” museum-going people of the world act so uncivil? If I wanted to be groped, I would go find a willing Italian boy on the street, thank you very much!
The line of people did not stop once I purchased my museum ticket and got into the actual museum. The giant crowd walked at a steady pace through the different sections: the hall of ancient statues, tapestries, maps, modern Christian painting. Through each gallery were these taunting signs reading, “Sistine Chapel” with an arrow. Each new section I entered was building up the anticipation for what was to come. Maybe if I had a map of the museum, I would have actually known that the chapel was at the end of the museum. But of course, I’m Callie Brennan and don’t need a map. (YEAH RIGHT) A particular highlight throughout the museum for me was seeing Raphael’s famous frescoes. (You would probably recognize The School of Athens)

The chapel is darker than I had imagined and packed from wall to wall with people who are equally as stunned as I am. Looking up at the ceiling I thought, “Well Callie, you certainly don’t see THAT everyday.” For all of the moments when I’ve been a mess and lost in the last 5 days, it was made up for 10 fold being underneath what many believe to be the greatest art masterpiece of all time. Everyone is taking pictures even though it’s not allowed and the guards aren’t even trying to stop them. It’s loud and the noise echoes through the hall. Your neck goes into a 90-degree angle and it certainly hurts after a while. I heard a rumor that if you arrive at the museum before 6am, they allow you to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling. Probably not true but wishful thinking. I try to find my own world there among the tourists and I would be lying if I said I didn’t get a bit emotional and a tinge of holiness standing in there. I know it sounds stupid.
Being raised Roman Catholic, I haven’t really practiced it since high school. Before I left Stony Brook, I brought something with me that I had in my pockets there within the Vatican walls. St. James Roman Catholic church sends out care packages to it’s members who are in college every semester. I was always WAY more concerned about the tin of baked goods than about anything else that came in that box but they always would put a nice hand written note and included a small holy token, like a tiny coin with a quote from the bible or a crucifixion. I kept mostly all of them and brought them to Rome with me. For faith? For protection? For hope? To pretend like I’m really a good Catholic? I’m still not sure but having them there in my pockets gave me some strength and I felt a little bit more brave, if even while I was just inside those walls.


Then, I met Marcus. In looking for directions to the Laocoon sculpture, Marcus the Museum Guard told me all about his trip to New York City a few years back and when I told him my story, he said, “So you are free! Free like butterfly!” This friendly interaction made me smile. I guess I can see myself like that. I’m a butterfly.

I headed to the Spanish steps, another must-see in Roma, and was ecstatic to find it successfully. I can now say that I have climbed the Spanish Steps in Rome!



I met Stephanie at Pepy’s and she brought a couple of friends as backup. (Hey! I could have been a rapist myself!) Over margarita pizzas, verbal vomit left my mouth while they spoke of their MBA program and gave advice to me, the lost puppy.
Step 1: Get a cell phone. (Life is about small steps!) Stephanie and Mazen took me to the “Tim” store. (Damn! Cell phone numbers are cheaper in Italy! 10 euros!) Getting lost with them was comforting because they have been here for months and still don't exactly know their way around! They were my lifesavers that day and a million thanks goes out to them. Stephanie left me at the bus stop after I promised her that I would be fine getting back. It was 2 hours later after realizing that particular bus stopped running, trying to find a new bus stop, asking Italians for directions, getting on the wrong bus that took me even FURTHER from my destination, seeing a man peeing in a corner, waiting for a new bus, trying to find the right bus stop, having young locals laugh at me, tearing up on the side of the street, chasing after moving vehicles and knocking on the bus door. It was THEN that I SWORE I was booking a flight back home.

But I made it back eventually and survived. I cried to Savannah via skype (even abroad she is my safe haven and I love her for putting up with my ridiculous self) The world was okay again after a brownie, some live jazz music, and good conversation with Maria and Veronica, our Russian flatmate for the week. Filled with highs and lows: another day typical day for Callie in Roma.