When In Rome.

Buon Appetito!

I’ve been talking about doing a ‘food log’ since the trip began. I’ve been back in the states for two days now, and as I’m processing the whirlwind adventure I had been on for the past month, I feel like it’s the perfect time to blog about all my good eats, favorite places and memorable moments. It honestly feels like Italy was a dream. A whimsical dream filled with accordian players, cobblestone streets, romance, and really tasty food.  

Spaghetti in Florence

Tiramisu from ‘433’ in Rome

Cacio e pepe from Miscelenea

Margherita Pizza from Cafe Biscione

Strawberry Gelato in Trastevere

Love, Deandra

Memorable Scenes

Thanks to Deandra letting me borrow it, I just finished reading Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and I’m hit by the idea of creating a good story with my life.

While reading the chapter, Great Stories Have Memorable Scenes, I couldn’t help but think of all the memorable scenes created on this trip. And so many of them because someone invited us to take part in their story.

As Miller said, “a good storyteller doesn’t just tell a better story, though. He invites other people into the story with him, giving him a better story too”.

Here are some people that have given us a better story…

Lucy and Kara- La Maisson club promoters in Campo di Fiori. For chatting with us every time we saw you even though we never went out clubbing.

Marcel Gargone- Michael Jackson finger puppeteer in Piazza Navona. For knowing us by name.

Florean and Conrad- German musicians. For pizza in Campo di Fiori and going to Ostia with us.

Sondre- Waitor at Miscellanea restaurant by the Pantheon. For the sexy wine.

Vittorio, Michaelai, Senora, Claudio- Hotel Primavera staff. For the wonderful accommodations.

Massimo- Dr. Meier’s friend and owner of a wine bar. For making Nicole’s 21^st birthday memorable.

Jane and Keith Leverkuhn- Our Roman parents and friends. For being so loving and giving.

Matt Boker- Deandra’s friend from home who was in Rome for an architecture program. For being part of our program, calling to us through our window, showing us Trastevere, hosting epic friend’s dinner, joining us for poetry readings and being a good friend.

Kaci- Friend from Idaho here for Matt’s architecture program. For letting us tag along on the beach day and joining us for epic friend’s dinner.

Sebrian- Traveler from San Fransciso. For telling us the time and joining us for dancing at the dance club along the Tiber River.

Will Aufhammer- Friend from SPU. For being so intentional about meeting up with us and spending the entire afternoon running around the city with us.

Megann’s Aunt and Uncle- Sweepstakes winners of a trip to Italy. For spending time with us and joining us for dinner at our favorite restaurant, 433.

Stuart Family- Megann’s boyfriend and our good friend, David’s family. For dinner in Piazza Navona and for doing the Bernie throughout Italy.

Graziella- Trattoria worker and friend. For serving some of the best lasagna we’ve ever tasted.

“Jared”- Student from America at the Irish Scholar’s Lounge. For helping us celebrate 4^th of July.

Sus, Kristina, Anna- Danish girls staying at the Camping Village. For inviting us to play “wolly”.

Kay, Andrew, Milli, and Charlotte- Hostel Roomates at the Camping Village.

The Entire Camping Village Staff: Paula, Karol, Lulli, Allessandro, Farroque, Batman, Dominique, etc- For inviting us into your lives and giving us an unforgettable experience.

Johann and Jonathon- Swedish back packers celebrating their 2 year anniversary on the Via dell’ Amore. For being so thoughtful and seeking us out as friends.

Boker Family- For your hospitality and for inviting us into your family on our last night.

 

Thank you.

Arrivederci, Roma

Nicole would leave for Germany the next afternoon before meeting up with her family in England. Deandra, Megann and my flight out of Rome was leaving at 6am. This meant we would have to get to the airport by around 3am. Thus we made our way back to our “hometown” and spent the evening with the Boker family before taking a taxi to the airport.

We hung out at the Boker apartment for a bit and they invited us to dinner with them at Insalata Ricca. While there we met a famous Italian poet who signed her book for us. Naturally a poetry reading would follow.

Prompted by Olivia we spent the rest of the night giving toasts. Then we walked over to the Trevi Fountain for one last wish and promise of return to the eternal city. Our last order of business in Rome was to pay the Irish Scholar’s Lounge one final visit…and then we were off.

Arrivederci Roma. It was beautiful while it lasted. See you again soon.

Ciao,

Romies

Snapshots of Memory

Without a camera we made snapshots of memory on our last full day in Cinque Terre.

Laying atop rock formations.

Swimming among barnacle-encrusted sea boulders.

The sun’s rays breaking through the clouds in a majestic fan.

Waves crashing over us in a salty foam of giggles.

This John Keat’s poem, On the Sea, describes the scene beautifully:

It keeps eternal whisperings around
    Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
    Gluts twice ten thousand Caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often ‘tis in such gentle temper found,
    That scarcely will the very smallest shell
    Be moved for days from where it sometime fell.
When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.
Oh, ye! who have your eyeballs vexed and tired,
    Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea;
        Oh ye! whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
    Or fed too much with cloying melody—-
        Sit ye near some old Cavern’s Mouth and brood,
Until ye start, as if the sea nymphs quired!

Megann has also been working on a poem about the scene when she and I were sitting on the rocky cliff with waves crashing over us (if you ask her about it, she might show it to you).

Team Cinque

Thankfully there was no train strike this time around so we finally made it to Cinque Terre for Camping La Sfinge. While there we conquered the Via dell’ Amore making it through Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterossa. I think these pictures will speak for themselves.

We met Johann and Jonathon at our campsite and then ran into them on the trail!

Ciao, Ciao, Ciao,

Romies

Camping Village: Round 2

Where would we return to for our extra week of travel but to Camping Village il Poggetto!

This time we arrived in Florence with plenty of time to catch the last bus to the hostel. We even met a group of three Danish girls that were staying at the village a well. This was proof that it wasn’t just a figment of our imaginations.

The magic we had tasted during our first visit would only be reinforced this three night stay.

Upon our arrival, many of the Camping Village staff remembered us and were thrilled that we had decided to come back. Throughout our stay we would grow to call each of these people our friends.

The first night we met Karol who is working to earn money for his family back in Poland. He leads many of the community activities including aqua aerobics. He coerced us into joining the session with free swim caps which are required at the pool. Hilarious.

That night we also met Paula, a spunky Polish girl who is working here for the summer to earn money for school. She truly reeled us in and invited us into her life. We spent afternoons chatting with her at the café, playing volleyball with her, the Danish girls, and Karol, and even had an underwater photoshoot with her waterproof camera at the pool.

By the final night of our stay we were having a pizza party with the entire staff and dancing together at the disco!

These people showed us so much grace and made us feel like Camping Village was our home…but it’s a good thing we left when we did otherwise we may have decided to stay there forever….working for the place leading trekking excursions or baby dance classes.

If you ever find yourself in Troghi outside of Florence, you won’t regret staying at Camping Village il Poggetto.

Graduation

Our last day of the study abroad program legitimately felt like graduation.

After exploring all of our old haunts one last time we got dressed up for the Lavish Dinner.

We started our night at Capitoline Hill to hear a selected work from each creative writing student. Bravo Peter and Megann!

Then we landed at a restaurant in the Jewish Ghetto for five courses of the most amazing food. 3 hours of fried artichoke hearts, oxtail/fish, spaghetti carbonara, salad, and tiramisu later, we were hugging and saying our final goodbyes.

Peter, Heidi, and Eleni would leave at 3am that morning to head back to the States with a handful of other students (p.s. thanks for the train tickets! They saved us so much money on our trip to Florence!). Some girls were headed to Nice, a few others to England…and Dee, Megann, Nicole and I would be heading to Florence and Cinque Terre for the week to embark on our final leg of adventure together.

Pompei

This weekend brought with it an optional excursion to Pompei. So Eleni, Peter, and other classmates and I decided to take it. Megann stayed back but informed us that the Stuarts would be in Pompei at the same time so to keep an eye out for them. As we were walking through the ruins, already having been disconnected from our group twice, I was thinking about how huge the city was and how unlikely it would be to bump into them. Just as this thought was going through my head, who should we stumble upon but David and the family!

 

During a scorching afternoon of trying to understand what it would have been like to live in this city upon the Vesuvius eruption, Peter, Eleni and I decided to create a series of short stop-motion videos that would capture the mystery of Pompei. (those will be airing shortly)

Afterwards, we headed to Naples to visit a museum featuring artifacts that survived the tragedy.

We came to find that Naples is on a trash strike. What I learned from Jen Stuart later was that the mafia runs the trash system and if they can get it high enough then the government will send them money. Crazy right?!

While Naples proved to be the dirtiest, most trash-ridden, mafia corrupted city it also delivered the BEST pizza I have ever laid my taste buds on. We went to one of the rivaling pizzerias for best pizza in Naples and although I didn’t try the pizza from the other joint, I would have to say that this Capricciosa with its ham, olives, mushrooms, and cheese was the most scrumptiously delectable thing I’ve ever eaten. Eleni and I both remarked on how in Eat. Pray. Love she specifically goes to Naples for the pizza and after gorging herself has to buy a bigger pair of jeans. Haha, good thing I was wearing a dress.

This marked the end of our Saturday excursion so we headed back into Rome to have dinner with the Stuart family in Piazza Navona. So lovely!

The Beauty of Good News

As I was reading Romans at Bramante’s cloister the other day, I was given fresh eyes for the verse, “How beautiful are the feet that bring good news” (Romans 10:15; Isaiah 52:7).

Consider the feet of this man in Caravaggio’s “Madonna di Loreto”. Do these feet look beautiful to you? Not really. They are dirty and worn and calloused. When this painting was completed people were outraged by the realism depicted. How dare Caravaggio paint the pilgrim’s feet this way?!

Another thing to note about this painting is the way that Caravaggio shows Mary struggling with her newborn on her hip. Why is Jesus wriggling around and causing her discomfort? This is supposed to be the perfect Christ-child and the holy Virgin Mary. (another little known fact about Caravaggio is that he would use prostitutes to model for his work…that means that a prostitute was standing in to portray Mary for this painting).

Through learning about the controversial nature of Caravaggio’s works it has been interesting to consider the tension between finding beauty in authenticity versus masking things with a façade of holiness.

Real, true beauty is not always pretty.

St. Ignatius

I had arrived promptly at 11am on Sunday morning for what had been advertised as an English church service.

But as 11:30 rolled around and only a handful of elderly Italians were present, I knew that the morning would not be quite what I had expected.

I had taken my place at a pew near the front and was thumbing through the bulletin when ‘the Senora’ bustled over to me. She began rattling off a speech while pointing from the back of the church and up to the front.

Already feeling out of place I feared that she was telling me to move to the back of the church to stand in the narthex (since we had learned that this was where the unbaptized were permitted to observe).

After apologizing for not knowing much Italian she looked around for someone to translate and I came to understand that she had been asking me to deliver the offering to the priest during the service. I felt a bit like Matthew looked in one of the paintings we had seen days before during the Calling of St. Matthew—why me? An American girl with limited understanding of the Catholic tradition?

But I accepted and was led to a new pew where I would sit with my offering-bearing partner—a little old woman in a floral dress. Immediately I felt that we were kindred.

I clumsily sputtered out some Italian to explain that I was studying art here in Rome.

She was very kind and during the service I could feel her glancing over at me to make sure I was following along in the bulletin at the right part. She would point to the song we were singing every one and again to ensure that I was on track.

Then about halfway through, ‘the Senora’ turned around to indicate it was time to fulfill our duty. So my new friend led me to the back and showed me what to carry. As we walked down the aisle I watched and emulated her movements to make sure I knelt before advancing onto the alter.

Once back at our seats she put her hand on my knee and told me that I had done a beautiful job (at least I think that’s what she said…). And then at the end of the service she kissed my cheeks in typical Roman fashion and whispered into my ear, “Bona fortuna,” before disappearing out the back door.

In this silent, holy moment I felt as though God had given me a sort of angel to make me feel welcome in a foreign situation.