April 25th is Liberation Day in Italy, I suppose the equivalent of our 4th of July. I was disappointed that I did not see any fireworks! Or very much celebration at all but I'm sure it's because AGAIN I slept in. It has taken me all of 3 days to get on "Roman time". I showered then Maria, Vanessa, and I went to Porta Portasie which is a gigantic Italian market behind our apartment that goes on every Sunday. It stretches for miles and consists of places selling whatever you could imagine. It resembles a giant thrift store and Maria wasn't kidding when she said that everything was "dirt cheap". I was warned that this was where the gypsies would be trying to steal things so I was on guard ready to attack anyone or anything that came near me. I've been looking for an excuse to try out my defense moves! I feel sorry for the sorry sucker that tries to attack me because it is for sure that my thumbs will be entering his eye sockets.
It was HOT and sunny, exactly the weather I hoped for in Rome. Jack, one of the "BC"ers who I had met the night before, was my tour guide to the Vatican City, something I just happened to miss while wandering the previous day. He said that I'm still in the "honeymoon phase" and he's right. St. Peter's Basilica: Let's breakdown the word "breathtaking", that which LITERALLY takes your breath away. Jack commented on the look on my face. Seeing the Pieta, a sculpture by Michelangelo, was probably my favorite part as I wrote a paper on it for my Art Renaissance class. Side Note! You aren't allowed in the Vatican unless you are fully covered. I luckily knew this before hand and was prepared with a long sleeve shirt to through over my tank top, despite the hot weather. We got gelato for lunch and I must admit that eating it with company was embarassing because my sloppy experience with quickly melting gelato is something that I usually don't have a witness to.
Jack and I parted and I made my way towards the Ara Pacis, another ancient Roman building that I studied. The one thing I regret leaving behind in Stony Brook, other than the people I wish I could have brought with me, is my notebook from my Roman Art class. Laura Philips! You were the greatest teacher and I think part of what drew me to Rome in the first place. Ever have a professor that was so passionate about what they were teaching that it made you want to be a better learner? Yep, that was Laura. (P.S. One of my fondest memories from that class was when Laura excused herself in the middle of a slide lecture and then reappeared. We later found out that she was pregnant and may or may not have been experiencing morning sickness...) Laura, the notes from your class would have been the PERFECT guide to the eternal city.
I ended up at an Edward Hopper exhibit at the Museum del Corso di Roma which was extremely interactive. For all you NON-Art History nerds, Hopper was the artist who did the famous painting of the "Night Hawks". They had a whole 3d model of the painting that you could actually go into the diner and sit down with the people. There was also a room where they projected sketches of his paintings onto paper and invited you to draw your own sketch and take it with you. When I was doing this, someone thought that the projection was my actual sketch. Ha! Something I like to do in museums is pretend that I don't know that you are NOT supposed to take photographs in special exhibits. I look to see if the museum guard is watching and once they turn around or enter a different room, I quickly take out my camera, shoot a quick photo, then try to hide it back in my pocket. Well, let's just say I was caught by a very unhappy Italian woman! "YOU MUST DELETE." I played the "Oops! I'm a stupid American" Card (something I don't have to try very hard at).
On the way back to my apartment, I started a conversation with a girl who was a student and she recommended a restaurant in Trastevere called Tony's. She gave me directions to where it is. Being only day three, I can't begin to tell you the amount of times I've been lost, frustrated, wishing I had a magic wand to zap me to where I wanted to be. Starving and yearning for a glass of wine and some pasta is NOT my idea of a good time to be lost. After 100% convincing myself that Tony's simply did not exist, I settled on a cute looking restaurant on a corner where it appeared to be busy inside, what I thought to be a good sign. "Table for one, per favore!" I ordered white wine and watched the local italians who themselves were entranced with the soccer game that was playing on a few different televisions. They were loud in interacting with the game, cheering and booing. There was a couple sitting close to me and they ordered and received their meals before I could even decide what I wanted. I ended up choosing the Pasta Carbanera because I looked at what the man was eating and thought, "Whatever he has, I want that!" I had never had this pasta dish which consists of an egg, cream based sauce with chunks of bacon. It was very satisfying, not too creamy, not too dry. Exactly what I wanted for the evening. I sat with my journal, who acts as my best friend along with my camera that Jack named "O" because of it's orange color...not because taking pictures for me is the equivalent of having an orgasm.
Walking back to my apartment, I stopped at a local Patisserie where I let a man choose the "Tiramasu" for me. Note to self: You don't like Tiramasu, Callie (even if it is in Roma). I had to get Gelato to drown out the bad taste in my mouth.
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