Weekend: Attack of the Catfish and Venerable Colleges

Saturday only two of us accompanied Fr. on a shopping adventure for the morning. We took the metro, and the simplicity of the Roman metro finally clicked; there’s only two lines and they hit each other at roughly perpendicular angles with Termini at the center. The city is in the middle of building a third line through bedrock that will chop downtown traffic and let them excavate instead, but 3 lines will still be pretty simple for a major metropolis. We popped out of the underground at Vittore Emanuele, named for the unifier of Italy, into a downpour. We scurried into a couple trams and then made the wise choice to browse along the shady Asian stores around the piazza and under a roof. Some of these stores must be fronts for something, there’s no way someone can make a living by selling an inventory of 50 pairs of colored pants. There was a cheap little quickie store we bought some cheap scissors at and Michael bought a wine bottle opener for 1 euro. It has already broken. I would say you get what you pay for, except the next store we stopped at, “Mas,” was cheap and as far as I can tell, still decent. Kitchenware, bed sheets, rain jackets, and spoons filled the funky, 4-story building while funky music from the 60’s and 70’s played, and we stared up at huge glass chandeliers over the 1-way escalators. I found a nice lady’s blazer to replace the one I lost, and after a washing or so it suits me quite well. I was afraid I looked a little nunnish, but since people besides Fr. commented on it, I’m assuming it’s classic without being dowdy. Fr. clucks after nuns showing too much ankle, after all. Just before coming home we stopped by a REAL market near Termini. When I say REAL, I don’t really mean Italian, but I do mean old-fashioned. Asian and African veggies and roots crowded stalls next to Italian bread, and we breathed air full of the scent of fresh tomatoes, spinach, strawberries, peaches, calamari, and salmon. How fresh is the fish? One catfish leapt out of the container and tried to make a getaway across the floor. No one was too concerned except for Michael, whose eyes got bigger than the fish’s. Fr. likes to reference the catfish attack when he jokes with him now. Sunday we had mass at the Venerable English College (the Venerable is part of the actual title, I promise), where many of the Jesuit martyrs studied before defending and dying for Catholicism in England. The accents of the priests were a tad too fascinating, and I couldn’t understand them when they sang, but it was neat to see the new and old chapels and think about the Jesuits studying here. I forgot to mention it earlier, but last week, the day we did the Trevi fountain, Fr. took us in to eat lunch in the Gregorian College’s cafeteria (much more exciting than the Trevi fountain). The Gregorian College, the heir of the Jesuit Roman College, was only the best school in Europe, and the entire world during the 15 and 1600’s. Matteo Ricci, Clavius (who invented our calendar), Galileo, and so many others studied here. We got coffee and then Maher showed us one of the classrooms. It’s strictly a lecture format, and questions are absolutely unacceptable. Lectures are in Italian, but after class students go to different note-takers and translators to get transcriptions in their preferred tongue. We got to sit in the old fashioned desks with little fold-out desks and funny bench seats. Definitely better than a fountain built for tourists. We made it home in time for the Papal audience without running. I didn’t understand much, except that the Pope directed attention to the problems in Syria. I also realized the intensity of the Mediterranean sun. We’ve been very fortunate with the weather so far, it’s only beginning to hit the high 70’s this week, and we’ve only been rained on a handful of days. My nose is a freckle fest, but no sunburn yet (knock on wood). Sunday night Richard, Katherine, and myself followed Fr. Maher out for gelato after dinner, but since it was chilly he decided that hot chocolate was more appropriate. I actually wore my wildly colored wool coat out in public; it is not meant for a European milieu, I meant for it only to appear in Alaska and Chile. I stuck out like a sore thumb, but I was warm. What we thought was a short expedition turned into a 3 hour venture as we walked into Trastevere and poked our heads into various churches while we waited for Fr’s “girlfriend” to come back on duty at a little café from the 70’s. We saw St. Mary’s at Trastevere, arguably the first church dedicated to Mary and one of the most beautiful churches in Rome. At night the lights hit the gold mosaics on the outside to make the whole façade glow. Inside we caught the processional through the incense-filled air just after an hour of adoration by a religious community. The church was full of people and shining. It is probably my favorite church here so far. When we showed up at the café, Fr’s friend was so happy to see him she clacked her dentures and cheerfully made up 4 huge traditional ceramic bowls of hot chocolate. Fr. reminisced about sitting in the same chairs with his cutting-edge laptop back in the day, and we stared at the stack of fanta cans from the 70’s while he chatted with the lady. On our way home the sky had turned to a deep blue, and the lights of St. Peter’s dome reflected across the Tiber as we walked across the bridge again. I really need to go out walking more often.