Vatican and Venice
Ciao to my fans and haters (to quote our president)! I apologize for the delay in blog updates. I'm obviously busy doing extremely important things here. I do know that I need to find a better structure for my writing and reflections, but sometimes it's just so hard to be so inspirational.
I'm writing this post from a late night Venetian water taxi. It's 10:05 P.M., and I've just departed the overwhelmingly charming and romantic island of Venice (or "Venezia," if I was trying to sound pretentious and ~worldly~.) The water taxi is shockingly packed for a late Sunday night, and I'm seated at the front of the boat. The icy sea breeze is stinging my eyes, my fingers are beginning their transition into icicles, and the air reeks of airport sushi and sewage, but it's definitely worth it. The Grand Canal is truly astounding. However poetic the moment feels, reality is about to shit on my face in the form of a 12:10 A.M. night train back to Rome. I'll arrive at Roma Termini around 7:00 A.M.--just in time for class at 10:00! I bet I'll feel amazing tomorrow.
Since I haven't shared the goings-on of my life recently, I'll begin with last weekend. On Friday morning, I made the trek from my apartment into the historic district, where I picked up one of my best friends from home--Christina--who's studying in Milan for the semester. As we walked out of the train station, me struggling to carry her fugly Vera Bradley weekend bag, (sorry Xtina but you know it's true) we happened to stumble across The Colosseum. The sheer amazement exhibited in Christina's eyes upon her first glance at il Colosseo is something I still share when witnessing many of the awe-inspiring Roman monuments.
Later that night, after pregaming with the Italian equivalent of Purell hand sanitizer and Fanta, Christina and I accompanied a sizable group of students to Piper Club, which is one of the oldest discos in Rome. Louis The Child--one of my favorite DJ groups--was playing a late night show targeted for American abroad students. They were amazing for the 5 minutes we got to see, until Christina unfortunately "misplaced" her phone. Shit happens!
The next morning, after a trip to the local Apple Store, Christina and I crossed through the gates into St. Peter's Square at the Vatican. I'm seemingly often at a loss for words to describe the experiences that I am having, and seeing the Vatican will, for now, take the cake for having me the most "shook." I was raised Catholic and attended Catholic school for most of my life, but, like many of my peers who've shared a journey through Catholic education, I don't exactly consider myself to be religious. I find something about the institution of religion to be off-putting, and Catholicism is surely not free of problematic ideals and behaviors. That being said, my time at the Vatican was a religious experience. The artwork is perhaps Western Civilizations finest, and each fresco and marble sculpture contains multitudes of minute details and historical significance. Surprisingly, I found myself to be very emotional in St. Peter's Basilica. I'm definitely not #thatgirl who cries when she looks at a painting because she's so ~deep~, but something about St. Peter's struck a chord in me.
As we flowed with the crowd out into the square, who else was there to greet us but "il Papa"--Pope Francis himself. When I told my father about this, he said something that stuck with me: "Not many people live to say that they've seen a pope in person." I recognize just how fortunate I am to have had that opportunity, and my day at the Vatican was transformative and awe-inspiring. The next day, I sadly bid adieu to Christina. She is a little piece of home. I say that because, as I've written already, home IS family--and she's family. Perhaps not by blood, but definitely by vodka.
This brings me to my next adventure--this weekend in Venice. On Saturday morning, my friends and I boarded a train, and off we went through the foggy Italian hillsides for the first weekend of the famous Carnevale di Venezia. Stepping ashore into the vivid and beautifully decrepit cityscape, I watched as people in ornate masks and costumes paraded through the streets as if doing so was a daily occurrence. Strangely enough, between the typical Venetian Carnival garb and regularly dressed tourists, some people were wearing Halloween-style blood spattered costumes. Still not sure why, but hey--to each their own.
Venice is magical. It's everything you imagined it would be and more. It's a charming world, one free of cars and buses and noise pollution. We shuffled through the hundreds of tourists and lilliputian alleyways until we reached our AirBnB apartment around sunset. We popped a bottle of champagne on our terrace, a story above a canal full of Gondolas. While Venice can be garishly touristic at times, I found the side and back streets to be tranquil and romantic. I marveled at the historical elegance of St. Marks square, and we took an (expensive) gondola ride, though it was well worth it for the selfie.
I'm now on the train back to Rome, and I couldn't be more excited to get back into the eternal city. I felt a bit homesick for Rome today, which is a good sign. I have a very difficult time adjusting to new places, but Rome is just so comfortable. I'm coming to accept it for its unpredictability, as well as its serendipity. This hasn't come without complications. For example, I've learned that I can't treat my body like a fraternity garbage can, and, though tempting, I really don't have to go out EVERY night. I've learned how to say "move bitch" when attempting to get off the packed buses, and I've learned to always carry cash. Thanks to my best friend Timmy, I've learned that they do indeed have boxed wine here, and that it's really good. I've also learned that if you drink it, Romans will almost certainly think that you're homeless.
It's now 1:22 A.M., and though the man sitting next to me on this train smells like a wheel of Brie cheese, I'm going to attempt to sleep as I'm heading right to school in a short (ha) 5 hours.
Buonanotte bitches!
