A.J. Cattapan

My blog title today refers to two separate things. Not that Italians are joking about ecumenism!

Before I get into the two topics in the title, a quick note about my Italian classes. Since classes change just about every week at my school, we had to say good-bye to three of my classmates today. Someone snatched a photo of the women from my class. Here we are: (from left to right, the German lady, me, the Australian girl, my Italian teacher, and the Swiss lady).

The ladies in my Italian class

After class, I grabbed some gelato at a place that my Polish friend Ela recommended yesterday.

Strawberry and dark chocolate gelato

Then I headed back to the apartment for a short break. It had occurred to me that I’m almost halfway through my adventure, and I still haven’t seen some major sites, like Castel Sant’Angelo. I decided it was time to make a list of the remaining places to visit. By 3:00, I was ready to head back out again for the “ecumenical” part of my day.

I hopped on a bus and headed fairly far southeast of my apartment. First stop was the Protestant Cemetery, where the English poets John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley are buried. In Italian, the name of the cemetery is “Cimitero Acattolico,” which if we were to translate literally would be something like “not Catholic.” Kind of funny.

Protestant Cemetary

Keats is buried in a quiet corner of the cemetery.

John Keats

Shelley is in the much more crowded section, way up at the top of a hill.

Shelley

The cemetery is a beautiful spot and a nice break from the busyness of the city.

A 10-15 minute walk up some steep hills brought me to the Catholic part of my ecumenical afternoon. I visited the Piazza of the Knights of Malta. Some of you may know that I have started the application to become a Dame of Malta next year. In the piazza is the Order’s magistral villa.

Magistral Villa for the Order of Malta

Through the keyhole of the door, you can see into the gardens.

Keyhole

I couldn’t get my camera to focus really well, but if you look through the keyhole, you can see the dome of St. Peter’s perfectly framed through the trees in the garden. Cool fact: The Order of Malta is sovereign, so when you look through the keyhole, you are seeing three sovereign entities as the same time: the Order of Malta, Rome, and the Vatican.

I tried several times to get this photo to work. Just trust me that St. Peter’s dome really is framed perfectly between these trees.

After that I visited two basilicas that are really close to each other.

San Alessio, where they were getting ready for a wedding:

Santa Sabina:

Then I headed back to school for a special evening class on the history of Italy’s unification. Again, it was all in Italian so I understood only pieces of it.

After that, I headed out for dinner and ended up at a wine bar, where I had some delicious pizza and wine. I put some Italian to use here, too. I think the waiter only said one thing to me in English, but I answered in Italian, so he used only Italian after that. 🙂

The table was along one of those cutesy narrow Roman roads, so I got to spend an hour people watching as I ate. When I was ready to go, I asked for “Il conto, per favore.” The waiter responded, “Certo!” (Certainly) However, he didn’t bring me the bill right away. Instead, he returned after a few minutes with a plate of biscotti and some limoncello. Perfetto! Okay, Mr. Waiter, I guess you can persuade me to sit her for another half hour while I enjoy my dessert! (Which was free, by the way!)

After dinner, I went to St. Peter’s again. I sat around the obelisk and sipped from my water bottle as I watched the sun set. It occurred to me that I was doing what Elizabeth Gilbert had discussed in Eat, Pray, Love; namely, what the Italians call “il bel far niente.” (The beauty of doing nothing.)

Oh, but wait, I promised you Italian jokes!

The first happened near the Order of Malta. Nearby is a gift shop run by the Benedictines. I almost didn’t go in. It was a little out of the way, in a spot I wasn’t entirely sure I was supposed to enter. But something drew me near (God’s grace?) and I found in the gift shop something I’ve been looking for for a friend for a few days now. Good thing I stopped in or I might never have found it.

Anyway, the shop owner spoke to me only in Italian. At first, he was with some other customers and he said something to me about needing something. I think he needed to show the other customers something outside the shop because the three of them all walked out.

By the time he returned, I had found what I needed for my friend, plus another item. I stood waiting at the counter when he returned, and he said, “Prego,” and gave me a rather apologetic smile. I held up one item unsure of its price.

Me: Questo e cinque? (This is five?)
Him: Si.
Me: Questo e cinque anche? (This is five, too?)
Him: Si. (Then he laughed.) Tutti e cinque! (Everything is five!)

He waved his hand around the store, and I laughed with him, realizing I may have just enjoyed my first real, spontaneous joke in Italian.

The second joke came at the wine bar where I had dinner. The waiter’s shirts had the following written on the back:

La birra costa meno della benzina. Invece di guidare, bevi!

Yay, my second Italian joke of the day! The beer costs less than gas. Instead of driving, drink!

I did not realize at first that there are actually several Level 2 classes and books at the school. Another student pointed out the sequence of letters and numbers under the words “Livello 2” on our books. So we’ve been working in Book A2/N3. Today, the teacher moved us into a new book, A2/N4. We hadn’t finished the last lesson in the previous book, and then she jumped us into lesson 3 in this next book! Yikes, we’re moving fast.

After class, I decided to visit a gelato place recommended by a friend of mine from back home. Along the way, I decided to see if a couple churches were open.

First up was Santa Maria dell’Anime. That’s right, another Mary church! This one, however, is the official German church in Rome.

Santa Maria dell’Anime

According to my guide book, it was supposed to be closed, but the door was still open, and a family walked in, so I just followed them. It was a beautiful church. Not as huge as some of the others in Rome, but still very pretty. Standing in front of the altar, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the beauty of it all. I’m not sure if it was just the appearance of the church (there are so many pretty ones in Rome!) or if it was the beauty of realizing once again the universality of the Catholic faith. Here I was standing in Rome in a German church. Recalling my high school German, I offered up an Our Father “auf Deutsch,” stumbling only a little over the words at the end. I’m sure Frau Meyer would’ve been proud nonetheless.

Interior of Santa Maria dell’Anime

It occurred to me that I was having one of those encounters with God that I read about last night in Father James Martin’s The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything. Fr. Martin talks about how God meets us where we are, in ways that we know how to encounter him. I guess since I’m a lover of languages, God met me there, in a church where I could’ve walked up to the guy at the entrance and spoken to him in three different languages (German, Italian, and English), and he probably would’ve understood all of them. And even if he didn’t understand me, we would still have the universal language of our faith to bind us.

Unfortunately, I could not stay long as they really were closing up for the afternoon. As the guy was ushering me out, I wanted to take a quick photo first. Which language to use to ask for permission?

German? Darf ich einen Foto nehmen?
Italian? Posso fare una foto?
English? May I take a photo?

When I turned to the guy, Italian came out naturally. He nodded his assent, and I snapped a quick photo before heading back out into the Italian sunshine, marveling yet again at the blessings I’ve received on this trip.

The second attempt to visit a church was not as successful. San Luigi dei Francesi (the French church in Rome) was already closed for their lunch break. Again, I marveled at the universality of our faith. A French church just steps from the German one. And again, I had to laugh at how God meets us where we are. Of course, he didn’t keep the French church open for me–I don’t speak French! But he did keep the German church open for me!

Finally, it was time to find “una geletaria” recommended by my friend. It wasn’t far from the churches but nestled into some narrow streets in Rome. I worried a bit about finding it, but it has its name in giant letters out front: GIOLITTI.

The place was busy, so I watched the operation for a bit and mused over the many flavors. You had to pay for your ice cream first at the cashier, then take your receipt to the gelato counter. For 2.50 Euro, you get a “small,” which actually includes two flavors of ice cream and whipped cream on top. The guy behind the counter gave a lot of instructions for people in basic English. They were not getting the idea of picking two flavors, and he was getting annoyed.

When my turn came, I had my order choice all ready.

Me: Limoncello e melone. (Limoncello and melon)
Gelato Guy: Perfetto. (Perfect!)

I’m not sure if he was complimenting my Italian pronunciation, my choice of flavors, or simply the fact that I understood I was to get two flavors. Either way, I was pleased when he asked me in Italian if I wanted whipped cream on top instead of just asking in English like he did for everyone else. I, of course, responded, “Si!”

Perfetto!

I took my cone outside and stood near a shop window looking at some expensive Italian shoes while licking my gelato. I smiled when I caught my reflection in the window. I had inadvertantly been channeling Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. There I was with my hair pulled up in a bun, giant sunglasses on my face, an ice cream cone in my hand, and looking wistfully in the window of an expensive shop. All I needed was a black dress and some fake pearls! And of course, someone to snap my photo to capture the moment.

As I headed back to the apartment, I crossed over Ponte Sant’Angelo while a film crew was shooting a scene on the bridge. I may have ended up as an extra in that scene, so I guess today was really my movie star day!

After some rosary shopping and grocery shopping (and yay for me, I figured out how to get the sticker to put on the fruit this time!), I headed home for a short rest and to recharge the phone.

At 5:00 P.M. I headed back to school to meet my new Polish friend Ela for a special pronunciation class. (Side note: Why is it I make Polish friends when I visit Rome?) After class, Ela showed me her favorite gelato spot near the school and then we wandered for a bit until we found a nice place for dinner. It was your typical cute Italian restaurant with outdoor seating right along the street, perfect for people watching. After we sat down, I looked across the street and realized we had picked the restaurant across the street from the German church I had visited that afternoon! God seems insistent of reminding me of His presence on this trip.

In typical Roman style, Ela and I chatted for a few hours after dinner, and the waiter let us sit there. We had to ask for the bill, which is totally typical in Rome. Once you have a table, it’s rather assumed that it’s yours for the night.

On my walk home, I passed St. Peter’s again. It really is quite magnificent at night.

Although this is my third time in Rome, I’ve only taken public transportation once before in this city. It was back in 2001 when my younger brother, my friend and I came on a tour. We arrived fairly early in the day, so we had several hours to kill before meeting up with our group for the welcome dinner. Why not go out and explore the city? According to our maps, the Colosseum didn’t look too far away.

Well, our maps were not the best, and if you’ve ever been to Rome, you know the streets aren’t nice and linear like they are in Chicago. So finding the Colosseum took a lot longer than we thought. By the time we got there, we had to turn around and head back. Somehow we got very lost–like couldn’t-find-ourselves-on-the-map kind of lost. We had the address of the hotel, but no one we asked spoke much English or even recognized our hotel’s name or street. I was beginning to think our hotel was imaginary.

Finally, we met a man who, although he didn’t speak English, took pity on three young Americans, got out a Metro map, and pointed out what routes to take. We had gotten so far from the hotel that we had to take one Metro line into the center of town (Termini) and then the other line back out in a different direction.

So far on this trip, I’ve been able to walk everywhere, but I wanted to see some churches farther east of my comfortable walking zone, so it was time to hit the bus. And I was determined not to get so lost this time!

In Rome, you buy bus tickets at newspaper stands or tobacco shops (yes, smoking is extremely prevalent here; even my sixty-something-year-old landlady/roommate Marcella likes a Cuban cigar now and then). So I bought one ticket (1.50 Euro) after class today. (By the way, today’s class was on reflexive pronouns. Being an English teacher sure does come in handy when learning a foreign language!)

The bus lines seem as confusing to me as the streets. Since there are no real straight thoroughfares through town, the buses weave all over the place, making it hard to remember what bus goes where.

Thankfully, I happened upon a little app that is making it much easier for me. The app is called Moovit. You tell it where you want to go, and it tells you what forms of public transportation you can take, including what time the next bus or train will arrive.

For example, from school today, I wanted to visit the Basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli (St. Mary of the Angels). It found my current location and then found the basilica after I typed in the name. It told me to walk to Piazza Chiasa Nuova (the square in front of the church next to the school), take bus 64 (and it gave me its approximate arrival time), how many stops to ride it, and what stop to get off. Plus how many more meters I would have to walk to get to the church. It even shows you a map while you are moving with an avatar-style icon (I chose the Italian girl avatar naturally) that follows you down the street. So I was able to watch my progress as I was riding the bus.

Santa Maria degli Angeli

I was surprised by how big and open this church was. It was built in the 1500s inside of some old Roman baths. The outside has been kept relatively simple.

Santa Maria degli Angeli

The inside, however, was designed by Michelangelo. It’s in the shape of a giant Greek cross. In other words, the four sides of the cross are about equal in size. The church has many beautiful angel statues and paintings.

The main altar at Santa Maria degli Angeli

An angel greets you with holy water

Another cool feature is the meridian line that was added to the church floor. At the right time of day (solar noon), the sunlight enters through a small window and falls on the floor, marking the time of the year.

The meridian line

After visiting this basilica, I decided to hit one more “Mary church.” This one was only a short walk away.

Santa Maria Maggiore

I had visited this church on my pilgrimage last April, but since it was so close and I still had a bit of time before my bus ticket expired (you got 100 minutes to ride as many buses as you want, plus one Metro ride), I decided to make a quick stop.

A slightly less crowded Santa Maria Maggiore

This is the church Pope Francis visits when he says he’s going to “go to the Madonna.” To the left of the main altar is a side chapel with a picture of the Blessed Mother above the chapel’s altar. This is where Pope Francis has prayed and left flowers for Mary. In April, we couldn’t get into this chapel because there was a mass going on, but today I was able to go in and pray a few decades of the rosary.

I would have liked to have stayed longer, but my bus ticket was running out of time and my phone was running out of battery (and I really needed that Moovit app to figure out how to get back home. Seriously, I don’t remember how we traveled before smart phones!)

Moovit told me to take the Metro; in other words, it was time to return to the subway train system I had first visited thirteen years ago. A short walk brought me to the Metro, and six stops later, I was a five-minute walk from my apartment.

In the evening, I attended the school’s free guided tour. The tour guide talked solely in Italian so I only understood about 10% at best, but it was a lovely night to walk around Rome.

We got to see Sant’Andrea della Valle, which is the church I got to lector in on the first night of my pilgrimage last April. It’s funny how you can notice things the second time that you didn’t see the first. For example, there’s an angel statue on the left top portion of the church, but there’s no matching angel on the right. I could understand enough of what the tour guide was saying to know she was talking about the missing angel, but I’m not exactly sure what happened. I think the Pope or whoever was commissioning the exterior construction didn’t like it so the second angel wasn’t added.

Sant’Andrea della Valle

Also, inside the church, there was a mirror on a table so that you can study the artwork on the ceiling and in the cupola (dome) without having to strain your neck. Not sure if I just missed this last time or if it wasn’t there then.

Interior of Sant’Andrea della Valle

Then we walked down the street as the tour guide pointed out a few more spots. Our walk ended at Largo di Torre Argentina, which I can best describe as the ruins where all the cats hang out. In the 1920s, the ruins of four temples were discovered here. They have now been fenced off and preserved, and a number of stray cats call it home.

Largo del Torre Argentina

For a somewhat late-night dinner (but really normal time by Rome standards), I took Marcella’s suggestion and went to a sandwich shop for un panino. Marcella swore they were some of the best panini at good prices (“economico”).

Marcella was right. This was one of the best sandwiches I ever had. And no, bird, you’re not getting any.

When I found the place, I had to laugh. It’s called “Dal Papa” and is only a couple doors down from Ris Cafe where some of my pilgrimage buddies and I had drinks after dinner one night.

“Dal Papa” on the left; the “famous” Ris Cafe on the right.