A Roman holiday is quite the precise definition for the series
of happenings over this past weekend. Although this holiday was preceded by the
challenges and struggles of an overnight train, the efforts and exertions were
well worth the experiences I was fortunate to have in the capital city of Italy.
Departing the train station and taking a taxi to the Trevi Fountain, I gathered
my first glimpses of Rome at around 7:00 Friday morning. The infrastructure and
personage that spanned the city were unlike that which I had seen in the
surrounding Italian towns of Florence, Parma, Pisa, Sienna or Cinque Terre.
There was a precipitous change in surroundings, from graffiti covered concrete
to that of ancient Roman style.
A whirlwind of an entry was nothing in comparison to walking
next to ruins, entering the ancient forums, or standing in front of the Coliseum,
which occurred later that afternoon. Venturing into the center of the city, I
entered into a zone characterized by a blend of ancient history and modernity,
which was sharply distinct from any experience I had encountered previously.
Crowds of people poured from the direction of the ancient ruins. Buildings,
ruins and structures belonging to cascade of historical periods spanning the
greatest and weakest moments of humankind. The privilege of walking amongst the
center of the greatest empire of all time was incredibly moving, inconceivable
and overwhelming.
The focus of the following morning was visiting the Vatican. The
artwork, history and religious prominence of this location was evident in the
artwork, structural composition and humanitarian fascination that was
omnipresent within the confines of the defining walls. I travelled through
museums and halls of artwork, moving towards the Cysteine Chapel. Words are
ineffective indicators of the impressiveness, magnificence and empowerment of
this experience. Correspondingly, my entrance into St. Peter’s Basilica evoked
the same response. Beyond the normal
realm of impressively, I also witnessed the ordination of two priests. The
scene was incredibly moving; standing amongst strangers yet feeling unified
through the fascination with the religious and architectural significance of
arguably the most beautiful church in the world was incomprehensible. Ensconced
by the brilliance of the moment, I contemplated, absorbed and enjoyed my surroundings.
The destination of the next morning was not originally intended
on our agenda, yet it proved to be the most highly anticipated activity of the
entire weekend. Waking at 5:40 and staring a pot of coffee for my friends, I
prepared to return to St. Peter’s for mass with Papa Francesco, the celebrated
Jesuit pope. Entry to mass was permitted through tickets we had received the
previous day, in a serendipitous fashion. With the advice from a woman operating
one of the gift stores, we found Swiss guards, protectors of the Pope. Exiting
the storefront, we turned towards an exterior archway under which three guards
stood. They issued us tickets for mass, in a sly and covert fashion. Our
elation was not concealed for long, as we erupted with joy, excitement and
broad smiles. This continuum of excitement did not fade between that moment and
the moment in which lined up for mass. During mass, one portion of the readings
was done in five different languages, embodying the universality of the
Catholic church and resonating with Pope Francis’s appeal to the masses. The
ceremonial ongoing of the mass were absolutely incredible, especially the
offerings of peace between individuals prior to communion. The symbolism of the
moments captured by that frame of time, as well as the relative significance of
my entire weekend, made it not only one of the best times of being abroad, but
also within my livelihood thus far.
No comments:
Post a Comment