Frolic & Detour

Our Last Night in Rome

2008-04-19T00:14:00.008+02:00

Tonight we joined the students and other teachers in the Loyola/CUA Rome program to say goodbye to Rome.

We are anxious to see everyone back in Baltimore (especially Dijle), but we are sad to be leaving our home on Baloney Alley:

As we learned when we left Belgium, in such situations mixed feelings are the best possible scenario: sad to be leaving where you are, but happy to be returning to where you were.

And now for a little sleep, before our 5:30 AM cab to the airport.

--Fritz

Defend the Fort

2008-04-18T10:11:00.008+02:00

Two days ago my dad and I went to Castel Sant Angelo. First we went through a tunnel that led to the mausoleum of the Emperor Hadrian. Then we went into the mausoleum.

Then we saw the urns that the burnt emperors were put in, but I am yet to be burnt.

This is what they would shoot at enemies.Then we got a nice view.

Then we got a nicer view.
Then we got the best view.
Then we saw the angel on top and he was really big.
Then we saw the angel that was on top first. He was a better fighter.

Then my dad, being my dad, had to go into every church he sees, and the Medici chapel counted.

Then we went on the wall.

Then we saw a blacksmiths shop that, of course, had a cannon.

Then we saw the she-wolf graffitied on the side of the Tiber.
Then I was Romulus.

Denis

Sunrise Over Rome

2008-04-15T18:39:00.007+02:00

Early this morning, I was woken from a dream of a delicious baklava-like dessert in order to climb the great Gianicolo and photograph the sunrise. My dad and I went together and we were both a little daunted by the clouds in the East (and West, for that matter), but they turned out to be quite the addition to our pictures.

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

**Sophie

Requiem: The Graveyard at San Miniato

2008-04-14T19:49:00.007+02:00

As I mentioned in the post about our visit to Florence, one thing we did was to hike up to the church of San Mineato. While there, we spent some time looking around the graveyeard, which is filled with remarkable monumental tombs. What is remarkable is not so much the artistic quality -- indeed, some boarder on the kitschy -- but the eloquent outpouring of emotion they represent in both word and image.

Looking through them, one senses the joys and sorrows that constituted these lives, as well as the joys and sorrows of those they left behind.

And in some of them one gains a palpable sense of clinging to Christ in faith.

--Fritz

FREAK JOB!!!

2008-04-12T22:57:00.002+02:00

for M

Firenze

2008-04-12T15:38:00.014+02:00

We made a quick overnight trip to Florence on Thursday and Friday, trying to cram in a last little bit of Italian culture. Our first stop was Santa Maria Novella, which contains Masaccio's stunning Trinity fresco. It also contains a less well known set of frescoes by Filipino Lippi, one of which includes a charming depiction of a dragon farting:
We then went by the Orsanmichele -- a former grain storage facility that over time morphed into a church. In keeping with the dragon theme, we admired Donatello's St. George: We also puzzled over this image that was part of a set depicting the various guilds in the city:
At first we thought it might be for the brain surgeons' guild, and this was some sort of primitive brain surgery done with a pick. But then we realized that the child was a statue and that this was for the stone carvers.

After this we went to the Science Museum. Unfortunately, most of it was closed for refurbishing. We did get to see the exhibit on Galileo's telescope, as well as this cool clock:

We also stopped by Dante's house:

Near it is the church he attended, where his Beatrice is buried. There are baskets of petitions by her grave; I guess she's been informally canonized:

After lunch we went to the Duomo area, first passing by a workshop where they repair and make reproductions of the Cathedral's sculptures:
Maureen and the children climbed the Dome; I thought I'd give my creaky old knees a rest:

We went to the much under-appreciated Museo del Opera del Duomo, that has many of the original sculptures from the Duomo, baptistry and campanile:A personal favorite of me and Maureen is Donatello's prophet Habakkuk, known as Il Zuccone or, more or less, "Pumpkin Head":

Also by Donatello is his harrowing Mary Magdalene, which depicts her near the end of her life, after years in the desert:

The museum also contains Ghiberti's original panels from the east doors of the baptisty, which Michelangelo dubbed "The Gates of Paradise":

A personal favorite is this depiction of John the Evangelist, that looks strikingly like Russ Eidson, my friend from highschool:

Footsore and filled to the brim with culture, we retired to our hotel, the wonderful Nuova Italia run by the Viti family. It was where we stayed when we would bring students from Belgium and it was nice to be able to come back to a semi-familiar place. Unfourtunately, the street was torn up with sewer work and there was an, um, distict odor in the air outside.

For dinner Denis got the biggest Florentine steak you've ever seen. Thomas and I split one.

The next day we started out at the Uffizi, which is overwhelming. By the end of two-and-a-half hours we were punch-drunk with art. They don't allow you to take pictures of the paintings, so we bought postcards and took pictures of them:

In order to counteract the effects of too much art, the family did the Hokey Pokey on the Ponte Veccio (or at least that's what it looks like):

On the other side of the Arno river, Thomas got pasta with lobster for lunch, which he approved of:We also discovered a Pinocchio shop:We spent the afternoon walking up to the church of San Miniato, which provided the great views of the city:The church itself is very nice, and has a very cool graveyard, that I'll blog about separately:Back in Florence in the early evening, we did a bit of street shopping:

And Sophie and Denis and I took a quick look inside the Duomo baptistry, which has a spectaular ceiling:After a quick dinner, we caught our train back to Rome, just a little bit tired.

--Fritz

Wonderful, revolting cheese

2008-04-09T09:25:00.003+02:00

Just thought we'd share with you the repulsive-looking lump of thoroughly delicious cheese we had for breakfast this morning -- a "rustic" goat cheese that was wonderful once you took a deep breath and convinced yourself to put something that icky and slimey-looking in your mouth. Mmmm.

Maureen

San Clemente

2008-04-08T21:47:00.006+02:00

This past week I had an opportunity to do twice something I had not yet done during our current stay in Rome: visit the church of San Clemente. Last Friday Maureen, Denis and I went with our friend Marianne, and again today Denis, Thomas, Sophie and I went with Laura Flusche's Roman Art and Architecture class.

San Clemente is perhaps my favorite church in Rome, in part because it is something of a metaphor for the city itself. The church, named for the fourth Pope, was built around 1100 on top of a 4th century church (also called San Clemente) that had been burned by the Normans, and then filled with dirt and rubble to form the site of the new church. That 4th century church was itself build over 1st century ruins, containing a warehouse and a house that, probably in the 2nd century, had been turned into a center for the cult of the god Mithras. It was not until the late 19th century that the Irish Dominicans who staff the church figured out that the original church must be under the one from the 1100s and began excavating.

It's all somewhat hard to picture, but its a bit like going on a trip back through time as you descend though the layers. One gets a bit of a sense of just how long Rome has been around and how its exists layer upon layer. I hope these photos will give some impression of what it's like.

The entry to San Clemente from the street.

Inside the atrium, which offered a respite from the busy medieval streets before entering the church.

The interior of the church built in the 1100s, now somewhat baroquified.

The spectacular apse of the upper church.

A crucifix in the upper church.

The excavation of the 4th century church (with a restored 19th century altar).

To support the church built in the 1100s, supporting walls were built around the columns in the ruins of the 4th century before it was filled in.

A fresco from the 1000s in the remains of the 4th century church, painted not too long before it was burned, depicting St. Clement.

Also in the 4th-century excavations is the grave of Leonard Boyle, OP, former prefect of the Vatican Library and, more importantly, one of the few people in the world who could read Thomas Aquinas' handwriting!

Down on the 1st century level: the altar to the god Mithras.

Dr. Laura Flusche, teaching in the first century.

--Fritz

Uncle Clayt gets the last word

2008-04-08T08:55:00.007+02:00

A last poetic word from Uncle Clayt, who left with Papa/Dad this morning after a great visit:

Stalking yellow cat

A pigeon feast eludes him

Dry cat food for him

Beautiful poem

Words of such grace and beauty

Even Denis weeps

CAS, Jr.

Haiku-off

2008-04-07T18:28:00.006+02:00

My father and brother, the Claytons Sweeney, are here with us for a few days. We have had a great time taking them around Rome and sharing with them things that we have learned. Sophie gave a terrific tour of the Baths of Caracalla, and Denis did a great explanation of the interesting things we've learned about the Pantheon (like despite the fact that it says on the front of it "Agrippa made this," Agrippa didn't make it -- Hadrian did; and other even more interesting facts).

Clayt (Jr.) is staying with us, and this morning, inspired by the haikus on our homeschool wall, he composed this haiku about the scene off our terrace:

Rooftop oven racks
Romans watch cooking shows?
Or cook with TV?
CAS, Jr.

When he came back in, he was further inspired to write a couple more haikus about Denis' morning, and Denis then replied. The result was the following exchange. Maybe you can figure out who wrote which parts.

Denis Morning
by Clayton Sweeney, Jr. and Denis Bauerschmidt Sweeney

Chimp child does not eat
Differently directed
Energy won't last.

Chocolate chimp breakfast
Sandwiched apple rosetta
Half eaten, half worn.

Chimp be greatest one.
He pwns at all, everything.
Go super-chimp-guy.

Uncle not inspired
He won't write anymore nonsense
Mom make me eat now.

Uninspired Uncle
Who generates entropy
Cannot focus chimp.

Writer stinks at all
Except the one who writes this,
Stanza 3 and 4.

Bu-a-ha-ha-ha
Chimp child plots uncle's demise.
Uncle lays in wait.

I win cause of arms.
I will bash out your stanzas.
Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.

Uncle-allied parents
Give uncle an advantage.
Chimp child must find sock.

No sock? I don't care.
I battle socks or no socks.
I am without fear.

Now we fight again
Fight again at the Forum.
Again I shall win.

Slightly focused chimp
Energy without limit
Venit, me vincit.

Sissy-ful uncle
He runs at the sight of me
Victorious chimp.

The haiku-athon continued through the morning and through the city as we visited the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, and the Colosseum. A selection:

Walking past a ruin
Pantheon, not Parthenon
Squashed bird in the road.
CAS, Jr.

Pigeons peck at bread.
They can never finish it
For they only peck.
DJBS

Italiano
Io mangio, mangio, mangio.
Mi faccio grasso.
CAS, Jr.

The warmth of the stone
Feels good to the hand and touch
On a windy day.
DJBS

Throbbing feet and back
Pizza salves the savage beast.
Chimp not beast, not salved.
CAS, Jr.

Doric, Ionic
Corinthian columnae
Don't fall on my head.
CAS, Jr.

Salivating chimp
A dead enemy smells good.
Chimp boy uncle breath.
CAS, Jr.

Uncle stinks haiku
Chimp is the god of haiku
Who is the winner?
DJBS

You get the idea. In the end, Clayt Sr., also known as Papa/Dad, even joined in:
Now it is my turn
To laugh and cry and speak now.
Two can play this game.
CAS, Sr.

We hope you have enjoyed this literary moment, brought to you by the American Association of English Majors, who remind you how much fun literature can be.

Maureen

Sorrento

2008-04-06T21:20:00.009+02:00

We spent the weekend before last (the 29th and the 30th) in the town of Sorrento, on the southern tip of the Bay of Naples. We piled onto a bus at eight thirty in the morning, greeted by everyone's favorite busdriver, Giuseppe, and headed off on a three hour bus ride to Naples. We arrived in Naples, and spent a whirlwind six hours seeing as much as we could (see my dad's post below for more details). We then got back on the bus for a two hour drive to Sorrento. Driving around the bay, we saw one of the more beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. As we wound our way along the streets, shifting between closely packed houses and scenic views of the Mediterranean with the sun sinking lower and lower, reflecting bright orange off the water, we were informed by David Dawson-Vasquez, the program director, that there was an Irish pub and a karaoke night at another local bar.

We checked into the hotel, and were told we had a half hour until dinner. The half hour was largely spent discovering that we all had balconies that connected to each other. When we were finished on the balcony, it was time for dinner, so we all headed up to the dining room, where I sat with three of the students, Tom, AJ, and Betsy. Denis sat at a table with three other students, and Sophie decided to stay with our parents. Dinner was a huge, multi-course affair, consisting of pasta, chicken, potatoes and dessert. As dinner drew to a close, I asked if I could go with the students to the karaoke bar. They said sure, and so a half hour or so later, we all followed David into town.

It turned out that there wasn't actually karaoke that night, but we had a good time anyway. The next morning, we woke up and went to Pompeii (See Denis' entry below for more details). When we came back, we decided not to try and catch a ferry to the nearby island of Capri, and instead enjoyed a leisurely lunch with David, and then went for a walk down to the shore. While Denis only got a little wet playing in the sand, Sophie felt a need to wade into the painfully cold Mediterranean, and got her pants thoroughly wet before we went into town to look at some of the inlaid woodwork that Sorrento is famous for. We then went to Mass in one of the coldest churches I have ever been in. Despite the cold, Sophie, Denis, and I all kept nodding off during the homily. After Mass, we went back to the hotel in time for Sophie to change, and went up to dinner.

At dinner, our family dispersed among the students. Tom, Betsy, and I were once again sitting at the same table, and we were joined towards the end of the meal by Sophie. After dinner, we went back to our rooms, where we watched part of a House episode, dubbed in Italian. I then went down to another room, and hung out with the students for a few hours, while the rest of my family went to sleep.

The next morning, we woke up, ate breakfast, and went to the bufala farm (see Sophie's entry below for more details),before turning home.As we drove back to Rome, I realized how much I had enjoyed the last few days. I don't know if it was the beautiful, peaceful town, or the fact that I was able to hang out with people who were not family members, spoke English, and were between the ages of fifteen and thirty, or some of both, but I think that it was the best couple of days I have spent since we came to Italy.

Thomas

Bufala (squeal!)

2008-04-06T18:02:00.006+02:00

Last weekend, we went (on the way back from the Bay of Naples) to a "Bufala" farm, where water buffalo are raised and their milk is used to make bufala mozzarella.

Our tour began in the last stages of the mozzarella making process, then moved back, so we went first to the room where the milk is turned into cheese and the cheese is salted and packaged. After that, we moved on to the animals, where Denis got sneezed on by a buffalo.

Every time we moved on to a new group of animals, a large number of the college students (always girls, I believe) squealed. First we saw the milkable cows- buffalo cows, not the black and white variety (squeal). After that, we saw the pregnant cows (slightly louder squeal) and the first time pregnant cows (still louder and shriller squeal).

Next came the 6 month old babies (squeals so loud and frequent that the poor buffalo were rather startled), then the 3- to 15-day-olds (you guessed it- squeals).
After the buffalo, we visited the piglets, then sat down to a huge and delicious lunch (consisting, as all proper Italian meals do, of an appetizer, pasta course, meat course, and desert).

After lunch, we got to wander around for a while (Denis and I raced through a field of knee high grass and visited the horses and donkeys), then we got back on the bus and left.

**Sophie

Pompeii

2008-04-04T16:24:00.009+02:00

When we went to see Pompeii with my dad's students and Dr. Flusche the ancient art and architecture teacher. We first went to the large theatre which was used for plays. Most theatres used for plays had a fake palace facade so it would set the scene for many of the plays. Then we went to the small theatre which was used for musical performances. After that we went to an ancient bar. The wine sure had fermented. Then we went to the door of a big house of a senator. Then Dr. Flusche told us about how being an ancient Roman senator was like being an ancient Tony Soprano. When you do somone a favor they owe you a favor. Then we went to the forum. It was alot like the forum in Rome but much smaller (and if Vesuvius erupts and you want to watch, go there). Finally we went to the house of the fawn. It was really big.

Denis, The Buried in Ash Majority of Doom

Naples

2008-04-04T06:45:00.010+02:00

We did a number of things on our trip south with the Loyola/CUA students, and I'll let others in the family fill in some parts, but I thought I'd say a few quick things about our afternoon in Naples.

Naples has a reputation in Italy as. . . well. . . excessive. Everything Rome is, particularly the negative things, are supposedly magnified in Naples: big, dirty, noisy, bustling etc.

It's hard to judge a city on a single afternoon, but it certainly felt different from Rome -- more Mediterranean, I suppose. Maureen said that with its crowded, narrow, chaotic streets it had an almost third world feel too it. I'm sure the Neapolitans wouldn't like that characterization, but something about it rang true to me.
We arrived in the late morning and did a quick walking tour of the historic center, including a palace that the Jesuits (naturally) had turned into a church.
We had a lunch of unbelievably good pizza (a Neapolitan invention) that made Denis sad because he said that now he would never like pizza in America again. Then we browsed in the various shops, which had peculiar Punch (as in Punch and Judy) figures that we supposed to bring good luck (this one apparently brings pizza as well), strange figurines that seemed to be people being consumed in the fires of hell, and the famous Neapolitan Christmas creche figurines, including US presidential candidate to put next to baby Jesus.
Late in the afternoon we toured the incredible collection in the Archaeological Museum, ably guided by Dr. Laura Flusche, who teaches art and architecture to the Loyola/CUA students in Rome.

The Museum contained many artifacts from the Baths of Caracalla in Rome, which were expropriated by the Farnese family in the 16th century and eventually ended up in Naples. Particularly striking were two sculptures of young boys running

and the famous Farnese Bull:

The other highlights were the artifacts from Pompeii. Particularly magnificent was the mosaic of Alexander the Great defeating Darius of Persia.

After that we headed off around the Bay of Naples, seeing some of the famous Neapolitan garbage along the way. We arrived in Sorrento and continued our adventures, but I'll let someone else tell that part of the story.

--Fritz

More Popery

2008-04-02T21:41:00.004+02:00

Our friend Marianne Servaas has been visiting from Belgium and today she and I went to the memorial Mass in St. Peter's square for the third anniversary of John Paul II's death. I think after the Easter Vigil the rest of the family is Poped out for the time being. In any case, the Mass was quite moving and very simple. . . or as simple as a Mass with 50,000 people can be. Whatever one thought of him (and I rather liked him, myself), John Paul was a larger-than-life figure and one worth remembering (and praying for, like all of us). I also always like being surrounded by the vast, diverse sea of Catholicism. Communion seemed more chaotic than usual and I was feeling pretty grumpy about that. But then I saw a young Asian man coming back from communion with tears streaming down his face. On the presumption that he wasn't crying because someone had stomped on his foot in the communion scrum, but rather in gratitude for what he had received, it made me appreciate the event despite the communion chaos.

Here's an AP photo of the event:

I've searched the faces in the crowd, and I'm pretty sure I don't appear. But I swear I was there.

--Fritz

Whew!

2008-03-31T22:55:00.007+02:00

We are back from a whirlwind trip to parts south, following immediately on the heels of Culture Week here in Rome.

Culture Week is a week-long celebration of Italian culture that happens every year. All week long, museums and other cultural places and events are free, and special exhibits, tours and shows are put on. We did our best to take advantage of the free-ness and the extra opportunities, despite the fact that there is NO PUBLICITY about this. We were able to find exactly one brochure online (a pdf of the only brochure I ever saw in person) that listed events, and there was not a single sign anywhere in this city. I guess they don't want people going too crazy for the free-ness of it all, and they certainly don't want the tourists hearing about it.

Well, here's a quick rundown of the things some or all of us did (for free!) to celebrate Culture Week:

* an excellent English language tour of the Capitoline Museums of antiquities (where we saw, among other things, the original Etruscan she-wolf statue that has become the symbol of the city of Rome -- after little baby Romulus and Remus were added thousands of years later);

*an excellent Italian language tour, by the exact same guide and in a cold rainy wind, of 5 or 6 of the aqueducts just outside town;

*a visit to the Museum of Rome in Trastevere, which had lots of interesting photos of Trastevere (our neighborhood) over the last century and a terrific collection of really fabulous watercolors of Rome at the turn of the 20th century by a man named Ettore Roesler Franz;

*a guided tour of the "secret" gardens at the Borghese Gallery (given in Italian by a woman named Beth from Ohio);

*a visit to the optical illusion collonade created by the architect Borromini (it's actually 12 meters long but looks very convincingly 35 meters -- very cool);

*a visit to the Balbi Crypt, which shows the development of a Rome neighborhood from ancient to modern times;

*a visit to Castel Sant'Angelo, the pope's personal castle, after a climb with our Baltimore friends Ben and Harry Chello and Laurie Feinberg to the top of the dome of St. Peter's (which didn't count for culture week because it wasn't free, but was still way cool on a crystal clear day);

* a nighttime visit to the Capitoline Museum to sketch; and

* a (very late!) nighttime visit to the Ara Pacis, Emperor Augustus' Altar of Peace.

This was all in only 4 days, because we then left with the students for a trip to Naples, Pompeii and Sorrento, where we got into other things for free with the whole group. I'll let somebody else tell you about that great trip.

So, just thought you'd like to know that despite the disastrous fall of the dollar, we're getting our money's worth here -- or at least we did last week! Now I need to go to bed to recover.

-- Maureen

The Aqueducts

2008-03-26T16:50:00.009+01:00

Did you know that...

The first aqueduct was built in 312 B.C.

Every kilometer that an aqueduct went forward, it went down only one meter.

Once the arcade was built, when the top part of the aqueduct wore out, they would build a new one on top.

People that lived along an aqueduct but got none of the water would steal the water from the aqueducts.

If there was too much water in an aqueduct they would open something a bit like a pressure valve.

Most of an aqueduct was under ground.

To cross a valley, the Romans would let the water run down the mountain side, go into an above ground aqueduct then use momentum to go into the pipe on the other side of the valley.

All the technology was lost in the middle ages, so they built a pit in the ground.

A Bit Of Work

2008-03-24T13:18:00.003+01:00

This is a report I, I repeat, I did on Marco Polo, I repeat, Marco Polo, a major Italian trader.

The Adventures of Marco Polo

“Marco!” shouts one child. “Polo!” shout the rest. Is this what we have Marco Polo to thank for? The flat answer is no. Marco Polo was an explorer who went from Venice overland to China and surrounding areas including Mongolia.

Marco Polo was born in 1254 and died in 1324, both in Venice. In Marco Polo’s time the Mongols were very powerful, so Marco Polo’s father and uncle went to trade with Kublai Kahn, the Mongols’ ruler. The Kahn grew so fond of the Polo brothers that as they were leaving, he made them promise to return with a letter from the pope and 100 experts on Christianity. (The Kahn was interested in Christianity though he wasn’t Christian.)

At the age of seventeen Marco Polo set out with his father uncle and two friars, to trade again with and return to Kublai Kahn. Part way through the journey the frightened friars ran away. Marco Polo stayed in the Kahn’s court seventeen years. At the age of 34 he had spent half his life in the Kahn’s court. He served as the Mongolian ambassador. The Kahn grew sick and Polo knew that if the Kahn died he would be in danger, so he convinced the Kahn to let him visit his family and to escort a new princess to Persia. Then they got the news that the Kahn had died so they went to Venice permanently.

When Marco Polo returned to Venice, he got caught up in a war against Genoa. He was captured and in prison he told his prison mate, Rustichello, a writer, about his tales. Rustichello and he wrote a book.

Most of the information about Marco Polo came from the book he wrote. There have been proven to be many false things in the book, like a unicorn with huge spikes on its tongue. Some doubt he even went to China. However, most information from the journal is true.
Is Marco Polo still irrelevant-seeming? Well, if Marco Polo hadn’t made his trip to Mongolia, then explorers and traders wouldn’t have gone to Asia nearly as much. Christopher Columbus wouldn’t have tried to sail around the world to India and would have never discovered the Americas. So what about now?

Denis

Easter Vigil at the Vatican

2008-03-23T11:53:00.008+01:00

Last night we went to the Easter Vigil at St. Peter's, which is a good thing since this morning it is raining buckets, along with thunder and lightning. I feel for the crowds gathered outside in St. Peter's Square for Easter Sunday Mass right now.

We arrived at the Vatican around 7:00 and took our place in a long line.
We got inside around 8:30 (the door opened around 7:30).
We were seated behind the High Altar, so our view was less than ideal. But we were quite close and could see the Pope (from behind) very well during the liturgy of the Eucharist.

For you Church-geeks out there, here are a few things that struck me:

Our candles were not actually lighted from the new fire, but by the butane lighters of the ushers. The kids -- and Maureen and I -- thought this was extremely cheesey. I would think that with a little planning they could have figured out a way to spread the fire even in a place as big as St. Peter's.
When the lights came up after the third "Lumen Christi," we had just gotten our candles lighted. Suddenly it was like we're under interrogation (the lights in St. Peter's are really bright).
The Deacon did a great job chanting the Exultet (not so great on the Gospel -- too sloooooow), and, since it was in Latin, we got the mention of the bees that are (inexplicably) omitted in the English translation:
Therefore on this sacred night, receive, O holy Father, the evening sacrifice, which thy holy Church by the hands of her ministers presents to thee in the solemn offering of this wax candle made out of the labor of bees. And now we know the excellence of this pillar, which the bright fire lights for the honor of God. Which fire, though now divided, suffers no loss from the communication of its light. Because it is fed by the melted wax, which the mother bee wrought for the substance of this precious lamp.
There were six readings (four OT, the Epistle and the Gospel), each in a different language: German, Spanish, English, French, Italian and Latin . Three of the six readers were women, which for some reason was very striking to me -- hearing women's voices amidst all that testosterone.
The music was OKish -- a premium seemed to be put on congregational participation, so most of it was quite simple. I noticed that congregational participation seemed to decrease once the (very loud -- at least where we were) organ kicked in at the Gloria.
The most excruciating moment was during the lighting of the altar candles at the Gloria: it took forever -- the poor guy was still trying to light them well into the Epistle -- and we were on the edge of our seats wondering if he would get them all lit. I felt like applauding when he got the last one done.
Since my Italian is pretty minimal, so I only caught parts of the homily, but I've since read a translation and it was impressive.
Unfortunately, we couldn't see the baptisms, which are always my favorite part of the Vigil, but we did catch a glimpse of the neophytes was they brought the gifts of bread and wine to the altar. Apparently one of them is a prominent (non-practicing) Muslim in Rome, but nothing was made of this during the liturgy itself, which is a good thing. No reason to indulge in triumphalism (as opposed to celebrating the triumph of Christ over death).
They didn't sprinkle us with the baptismal water, which was disappointing. As with the fire, I would think there would be a way to work this out even in a place as large as St. Peter's.
As a deacon, I was interested to see a couple of special diaconal lines in the liturgy. Just before the Pope intoned (in a quavery but somehow moving voice) the Easter before the Gospel, the Deacon chanted (in Latin): "Most blessed Father, I announce to you a great joy, which is "Alleluia." And at the sign of peace he said, "In the Spirit of Christ, who is risen from the dead, offer each other the sign of peace." I don't know if these are peculiarly Papal things or are elements of the 2002 Missal that will appear with the new English translation, but I like them (I'm always for enhancing the Deacon's lines).
Communion, as always seems to be the case at Papal Masses, seemed a pretty rushed affair, with a disorganized scrum of people surging forward to the army of priests who are distributing communion. Ah well, it's still Christ's body and blood.

As we left, we admired St. Peter's Square all decorated for Sunday Mass.

I can only imagine how it looks on this soggy morning.

--Fritz

Good Friday

2008-03-21T18:03:00.006+01:00

Maureen and I brgan our Good Friday by going to Morning Prayer at the church of San Giorgio in Velabro. It was a small crowd of less than 20 and we sang psalms and scripture, included the Lamentations of Jeremiah (a traditional part of Tenebrae). A bit of a capella chanting in a simple early medieval church is a perfect way to set the tone for Good Friday.

Then we decided that we should make the kids suffer a little by dragging them around to churches.

We went to St. John Lateran, which is the only of the four major basilicas that we had not yet visited. The original structure was built by Constantine in the 4th century, but was given a baroque makeover by Borromini in the 17th.

Including a cool-gross statue of St. Bartholomew holding his own skin (he was flayed to death).
It still has its gothic baldichino over the high altar,
and a 13th century apse mosaic.

It (and not, as most people presume, St. Peter's) is the cathedral for the city of Rome and so contains the Pope's cathedra or throne.

We also looked in the Baptistry, which was also built by Constantine, and was where every Roman was baptized during the 4th century:

The baptistry has some great mosaics:

Then we went to Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, which was build on the site of a palace belonging to Constantine's mother, Helena, and which contains several relics associated with the Passion, including the plaque hung above Jesus' head by Pilate, as well as several pieces of the cross that Helena brought back with her from Jesrusalem. It's often hard to know what to make of such claims, but the devotion of the people there was certainly real, and who is to say that they are not genuine.

We then went to the little oratory of St. Francis Xavier, where we joined in the Good Friday liturgy. Aside from a slightly flimsy cross for the veneration, it was very nice. While there we ran into Clare Pratt, whom we had known over 20 years ago in Houston. She has been in Rome for the past 15 years working for her order (the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus), most recently as Superior General. It's a small, small world. I figure that if I can run into someone in Rome that I knew two decades ago and half a world away, then perhaps relics of the true cross making their way to Rome is not so far-fetched after all.

--Fritz

bIRTHDAY bLOG

2008-03-20T13:11:00.012+01:00

We have been celebrating my thirteenth birthday for the past three days, so I will give you a quick description of each day.

We celebrated on the 17th because I wanted to celebrate in Belgium with our friends there and we were leaving that afternoon. We celebrated with chocolate cake (made by my friend Bethany with a little help from me and her sister Lisa) and a couple small gifts (a block of belgian chocolate and a book on drawing flowers with the instructions in Flemish).

There was some controversy over which day my birthday was because I was born at 6:18 p.m. on March 18th in Baltimore, which is 12:18 a.m. on March 19th in Rome. Unable to choose, we decided to celebrate on both days. On the 18th, we went out to lunch at a delicious restaurant nearby. Later that day, my mom made panekoeken (which are like Belgian crepes filled with sugar) as best she could without a recipe.

The final day of celebration, the 19th, was an ordinary day until dinnertime. For dinner we had pasta preceded by typical Roman fried zucchini flowers. They are fairly simple, but still quite a production to make. Here is how:

(1) Mix bread crumbs with one egg (the mixture is supposed to be crumbl rather than eggy, so you don't need much egg) and some salt and pepper.

(2) Gently fill the flowers with the bread crumb mixture and set them aside.

(3) Heat a lot of oil in a pan, but don't let it get so hot that it smokes.

(4) Fill a shallow bowl with flour and another one with a couple of well beaten eggs.

(5) Roll each flower first in the flour, then in the egg, making sure all of the outside of the flower is covered in both flour and egg.

(6) Put the flowers in the pan of oil and let them fry until they are lightly browned.

They have to be served fresh, so put them on a plate with several layers of paper towel and cover them until you are ready to eat them.

We finished the evening by staying up til midnight to watch The Matrix (which Denis and I had never seen before). Overall, my three birthdays were highly satisfactory.

Sophie

Are You the Bwaaaaain Specialist?

2008-03-20T11:54:00.005+01:00

The Original:

Thomas as Mr. Gumby:

And Maureen ponders her son's future.

-- Fritz

We're back and Sophie's 13!

2008-03-19T08:01:00.008+01:00

Faithful readers, we apologize for our long absence. We spent last week visiting friends and old familiar places in Leuven, Belgium.

It is always bittersweet for us to be in Leuven, because we love the place and the people so much, and for a while it was home for us. Denis, who was delighted with how much he remembered -- both of places and of his Dutch -- was having a hard time sorting out these happy/sad/wistful emotions one night, so we had a great conversation about the meaning of the word nostalgic.

We had a warm and wonderful welcome from old friends like the Servaas-Miller family, Christel Snels and her family, and our dear friend Rada Arsanukaeva and her family, as well as others who patiently allowed us to practice both our English and our Dutch with them as we caught up with each other. One highlight was an invitation to dinner from Molly and John Berger, the current residents of our old home at Begijnhof 19. We had a great time, though the children complained that the house had gotten smaller than it used to be.

We had one day of sightseeing. Fritz, Denis, Sophie, Nathan and Bethany Miller and I went to Gent and visited the Gravensteen castle, a crusader-style castle that has been wonderfully restored and sparks many fantasies. It even got Sophie to pick out the weapons she would take with her on her quest. She looks all pacifist and all, but keep you might want to keep your eye on her and see if you can see where she's hidden her dagger. Nathan and Denis, of course, conquered the castle while we were there, so we knew we were in good hands.

The other thing we did in Gent (besides eating some good Flemish frietjes and mayonnaise)

was to spend a lovely time visiting the van Eyck masterpiece The Mystic Adoration of the Lamb altarpiece. It is truly one of the masterworks of the Flemish "Primitive" painters of the 15th century (from whom the Italians learned the technique of oil painting), and it is beyond my linguistic powers to describe. All I can say is, if you're ever in the neighborhood, definitely make the effort to see it. This portrayal of the heavenly garden has many amazing details, but our friend Bethany was most struck by how much the heavenly city in the background looks like Flanders. Go figger. Here are the children climbing into the laps of the van Eyck brothers outside the cathedral.

We began celebrating Sophie's 13th birthday on the 17th of March so that we could do it with the Servaas-Miller family before we left Belgium, and we continued upon our return to Rome, where we had a great lunch at a local trattoria yesterday (the 18th). There is some confusion about which day actually counts as Sophie's birthday here, because she was born at 6:18 pm on March 18th in Baltimore, but with the time difference, that would be 12:18 am on March 19th here. Then Fritz starts to throw in daylight savings time, and things get really confused. Our solution is to keep celebrating, and we will have a special dinner of fresh pasta and fried zucchini flowers tonight just to make sure we cover our bases.

We hope that you are all well and wish you a wonderful Holy Week. I'm sure we'll let you know about ours here in the Eternal City....

Maureen

Nothing to Blog

2008-03-10T14:44:00.001+01:00

I have been told to blog but I can't think of anything.

This is my case that there is nothing to blog:

All I've done in the past three days is read three books. They were good books called The Roman Mysteries but still -- Sophie is the only one that normally reads like that. I would suggest them. They are about four kids in 1st century Rome who solve mysteries.
I also did some schoolwork.
The only other fun thing I did was watch the completely not over the top movie "Live Free or Die Hard." The only crazy thing that happened was that one guy first kills three people with big guns with one pistol and gets shot once then takes out a helicopter with a car and gets shot again. Takes out another helicopter with a fire hydrant. Then gets shot twice and then jumps onto a moving jet plane. Then shoots the bad guy through himself.

So life isn't so great in Rome.

Denis, the Majority

P.S.

It is actually great, just got to appreciate it.

Sunday Morning in Trastevere

2008-03-09T08:13:00.003+01:00

Trastevere has in the last few years gone from being a working class neighborhood to being something of a nightspot -- for you Baltimorons, sort of like Canton, or maybe Hampden. After Friday and Saturday nights, the street, in addition to the usual omnipresent dog poop, is littered with bottles and other debris. So how do we clean up our tiny little streets after a hard weekend of revelry?

With tiny little streetcleaning trucks:

Will Roman ingenuity never cease?

--Fritz

Gnocchi? Gno thanky!

2008-03-03T08:57:00.005+01:00

To explain this latest bit of our adventure, I have to go back and explain that a few weeks ago, we bought a lovely little cookbook at the flea market. It is called I Sapori di Lazio, "The Flavors of Lazio," and is filled with beautiful, simple, yet delicious recipes for foods typical to the region in which Rome is found. I have been having a very nice time studying Italian by deciphering the recipes and have learned many useful words and phrases like "chop", "boil" and "golden brown." We have also had many tasty dinners as a result -- lovely typical pasta dishes, polenta, and other delights.

Thomas made some spinach ricotta croquettes the other night that were quite delicious, and we had some leftover ricotta. I decided to look beyond our trusty little book and went to the internet to try and find a recipe to creatively use up our ricotta. I found a recipe for ricotta gnocchi and was intrigued. As you may know, gnocchi are ordinarily made of potato, and a well made gnocchi is a melt-in-your-mouth thing of beauty.

So I thought I would try a ricotta gnocchi. What could go wrong in combining two great tastes, right? Well, you probably see where I'm going with this. I spent an hour and a half making my homemade little gnocchi and waited for the moment when I could pull them triumphant from the boiling water. Sadly, my lovely little gnocchi turned to slime in the water and were pulled out looking like something that had been regurgitated from the belly of some primal beast. Most disgusting.

The story has a happy ending, though. Earlier that day, I had been in a bookstore paging through a book about eating in Rome that recommended a little pizza shop right near us. When the gnocchi failed, we went out and tried the pizzeria, and it was great. So now we have a favorite local pizza joint, and all the Bauerweeneys (plus Bethany) continue to be well fed.

So the story also has a moral -- two morals, actually:

-- Beware of what you find on the internet.
and
-- God never closes a door without opening a pizza shop.

Maureen

Popestravaganza

2008-03-02T09:14:00.008+01:00

Yesterday Sophie, her friend Bethany from Leuven, and I went to a prayer service for university students (OK, none of us is a university student, but I at least spend a lot of my time with them) that included a rosary led by the Pope.

We began at the North American College (the residence for seminarians from the US studying in Rome), where we got these very nice green tickets that allowed us into the procession to the Vatican. Here is Sophie pretending to hate Bethany:

We then processed to the Vatican, each group behind its nations flag.

It struck me as a tad nationalistic, though I suppose it's a way to identify the geographical diversity of the groups. I somehow felt better when we passed a little shrine to Charlemagne: at least Church and Empire aren't still that entwined!

In the Paul VI Audience Hall, once we finally got to our seats (nothing runs on time in Italy, at least not since Mussolini), we had a prayer service on the theme of hope -- not coincidentally, the topic of the Pope's last encyclical letter -- that had groups throughout Europe and North America participating by video link.

Then came time for the Pope's entrance, and it was a bit like Paris Hilton showing up at a club: people were turning around and standing on their chairs to get a glimpse of him, cameras at ready, thinking he would enter from the back of the hall. But then he simply entered from stage left, so everyone had to turn back around.

He led us in praying the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary: he would lead the Our Father and Glory Be at the beginning and end of each decade, while groups of students at different sites around the world would lead the Hail Marys. It was kind of moving to be praying with people in France, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Italy, Russia, Mexico, Brazil and the US, and the technological achievement was impressive, though the whole thing had a bit of a surreal quality. It felt a bit Matrix-like, not being in the physical presence of those I was praying with.

I found the most moving part when the students in Bucharest led us in the singing of the Litany of Loretto.

Sophie and Bethany seemed suitably impressed, despite the fact that most everything was in languages that didn't understand, and they didn't actually get to shake the Pope's hand.

And we got cool plastic glow-in-the-dark rosaries!

--Fritz

Ostia Antica

2008-02-28T09:00:00.000+01:00

On Saturday the 17th, with my friend Ella from Baltimore, and then again on Sunday the 24th, with our friends Nathan, Tim and Bethany from Belgium, we went to the ancient Roman seaport town called Ostia Antica, which was more or less abandoned at the end of the 4th century as the river silted up.

Among the highlights were an open tomb full of jars for ashes,

an extreemely well preserved bar,

the piazzale of corporations, which had mosaics identifying what the corporations did,

several baths with impressive mosaic floors,

an amphitheater,

and a tower with a view of the tiber and much of the town.

**Sophie

Poetry

2008-02-28T08:55:00.005+01:00

Yesterday, I gave Denis and his visiting friend, Nathan Miller, the language arts/social studies assignment of writing a poem in 6 couplets about a feat of ancient Roman engineering. Here is the result, along with a photograph from our recent trip to the ruins of the ancient Roman port city of Ostia Antica.

Roman Toilets

by Denis Bauerschmidt Sweeney

and Nathan Miller

When you need to wee wee

You see a bathroom -- whoopee!

You have no modesty,

Less than in the Odyssey.

The pipes are made of lead

So you'll find yourself dead.

In there it was so cold

There may have been mold.

Where would be all the poo

If there were no sewer below you?

The world is full of so many gross things,

We Romans will never be kings.

We hope you have enjoyed this literary moment. -- Maureen

Knife Sharpening

2008-02-25T07:44:00.003+01:00

One morning last week we heard a strange cry outside our window. It turns out that it was a traveling knife-sharpener. So we gathered up the extremely dull IKEA knives in our apartment (when you're renting to strangers you don't exactly invest a lot of money in cutlery) and took them down to have them sharpened. He had his grinding wheel hooked up to the wheel of his bike, so he could turn it by pedaling. He also had a contained of water set up to drip onto the blade as he sharpened it, to flush away the filings.

Now our knives are so sharp that we live in constant fear of slicing off a finger.

The Feast of the Chair of Peter

2008-02-22T23:41:00.006+01:00

Some of the fun of being Catholic is having feastdays for pieces of furniture.

I went to the 5:00 Mass this evening at St. Peter's, which was celebrated at the "altar of the chair," which stands before Bernini's exquisitely over-the-top sculpture of the chair of Peter, symbol of his authority and the authority of his successors.
For this feastday, they cover the sculpture with candles; I was only able to get a blurry photo:

OK, so it's not really a feast day for a piece of furniture, but rather one that celebrates the role of Peter and his successors in strengthening the faithful, but the furniture does get a lot of attention.

The Mass was very nice, with music by Palestrina and large clouds of incense, which always makes me happy.

The famous statue of Peter by Arnulfo di Cambio (it's the one that everyone touches/kisses the foot of) was specially decked-out for the occasion.

--Fritz

Two Days At The Market

2008-02-20T12:21:00.006+01:00

I can't put in any images because I am on the pictureless computer. We went to the market at the Campo de' Fiori. Anyway, we had fun and the only thing that went wrong today was that when my mom touched some random vegetable and a scary lady yelled at us. We then got some eggplant. Yesterday we went to the market and the only bad thing that happened that day was that we walked by some fish and it really stunk. I tried to pay with only coins but I couldn't do it even though coins have much more value here in the E.U.

The Quest for Ella's Boots

2008-02-18T09:43:00.007+01:00

Sophie's friend Ella left this morning after a week with us. Yesterday was spent in a whirl of boot-shopping for Ella. We started at the Rome flea market, which grew out of the black market during WWII and is reputed to be the best flea market in Europe. If you've never been, it's quite a scene.

We found lots of hats. . .

. . . and neon-colored bras. . .. . .but no boots.

Maureen and Sophie and Ella then scoured the area around Trastevere and the Campo di Fiore but, since it was Sunday, many shops were closed. After the footsore and dejected shoppers returned home, I went on one more foray with Sophie and Ella to the used clothing shops near the Piazza Navona where, lo and behold, we found boots:

So Ella left this morning happy (though, of course, sad to be leaving) and well-shod.

--Fritz

The Vatican and Borghese Gardens

2008-02-17T15:49:00.000+01:00

A few days ago we went to St. Peter's and the Vatican museum.

St. Peter's was impressive as always,

We saw alot of cool things at the Vatican museum.

including this map of Italy.

and the School of Athens

My dad got yelled at for taking this picture of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

There were alot of cool statues.

The next day we went to the Borghese museum and gardens. The museum used to be the palace of Cardinal Borghese, who was a big patron of Bernini and Caravaggio. You aren't allowed to take pictures in the museum, so we don't have any pictures to post, but everything was amazing.

After the museum, we went for a walk in the Borghese gardens.

We rented a couple of pedal carts, and rode around in them for a while before heading home.

-Thomas

A picture is worth a thousand words

2008-02-17T09:28:00.007+01:00

We have had a marvelous week of exploring Rome high and low with Sophie's very dear friend, Ella Gensheimer, who is here visiting us. We haven't had much time to write, but we'll let the pictures do the talking....

Pizzaaaaah.

Trajan's column -- adventure comics in marble.

Trajan's market, early shopping mall. (Denis has a great powerpoint presentation on the market's history. You might ask to see it sometime if you're interested.)

Sun in St. Peter's.

Gelatoooooh!

Fun in the Borghese Gardens....

"Friends, Romans, Countrymen...." Sophie and Ella at the Rostra, the scene of Marc Antony's famous speech about Julius Caesar (the Shakespeare version):

Umbrella pines and palatial ruins on the Palatine Hill.

Ella contemplating great architecture and blood sports.

Maureen

Happy St. Valentine's Day

2008-02-14T07:53:00.006+01:00

Yes, the very skull of the patron saint of lovers, at the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin. Momento mori, all you lovebirds?

For those looking for a cheerier feastday, it's also the feast of Ss. Cyril and Methodius, apostles to the Slavs.

--Fritz

Sunday Morning Varia

2008-02-10T14:54:00.000+01:00

This morning we went to Mass at Santa Sabina, up on the Aventine hill.
The Church, a 5th century basilica, is surrounded by wonderful Orange trees, which were supposedly brought to Rome from Spain by St. Dominic.

The view of the city is spectacular.

Sophie demonstated how to drink from a Roman water fountain.

Back home in Trastevere we enjoyed looking at some of the local fauna.

I'm thinking about a career in wildlife photography.

--Fritz

The Latest way to see Rome. . .

2008-02-10T14:38:00.001+01:00

The Segway tour!!!

--Fritz

American Football in Rome

2008-02-09T23:38:00.000+01:00

As I said in a previous entry, I am playing American football here in Rome. I discovered this team when I was trying to find something to do to get out of the house, and I googled "american football in rome." I came up with a website for the Roma Gladiatori, which is Rome's professional American football team.

I was able to determine that there was an under 21 and under 17 team in addition to the professional team, but I was lost after that. So my mom sat down and tried to figure out what the site said. We eventually got the email address of the coach for the under 17 team and sent him an email explaining that I was an American living in Rome and, if it was possible, I would like to play on the under 17 team. We received a call within an hour of sending the email, and were told that they would love it if I would play with them. I mentioned the fact that I had never actually played football on a team before, but that didn't seem to matter.

We were given directions to the sports complex, which we discovered was some distance away, and were told that I could come to practice that night at eight. We left soon after and finally got to the field after taking a bus, a train, a metro, and walking a couple of blocks from the metro stop to the complex.

When we got there, we met Fabrizio, who is the head coach and speaks English because he is a pilot, and flies to America on a regular basis. We stayed for a while, and I lost any apprehension I had about playing when a linebacker raced through to the quarterback, grabbed him by the helmet, swung him around in a circle, and threw him down on the ground, not realizing that he had committed a blatant foul. I guess knowing what a facemask is is something most people on a football team in America take for granted.

Anyway, I have been really enjoying practice, and I have some sort of scrimmage on the twenty-fourth, so I'll give an update then.

Roman Beggars and American Panhandlers

2008-02-08T09:52:00.000+01:00

One of the downsides of life in Rome is the incredible number of beggars on the streets. Of course panhandlers are all over Baltimore, and every large American city. But somehow here in Rome it's different, and I've been reflecting on why.

It seems to me that in America panhandlers want to present themselves to you as people; in a very American way, they want to make a personal connection, tell you their story (even if it's a made-up story), let you know that they are just temporarily down on their luck and if you'll just give them bus fare they will be transformed into an upstanding fellow-citizens.

Roman beggars, on the other hand, strike me as engaged in an elaborate ritual activity centered around making themselves abject before you (it works even better if one has an obvious physical handicap). Though they want to make eye contact, to hook you, they then quickly duck their heads and launch into a kind of liturgy of begging that is utterly depersonalized, carried out in a sing-song voice that verges on chant. There is no implication that if you give them the loose change in your pocket that their lives will turn around. Rather, they are there like permanent features of the landscape, as if they have been on that particular street corner since the days of the Roman Republic, engaged in their ancient ritual of abjection. You give to them (if you give) in the same way you respond E con il tuo spirito to Il Signore sia con voi.

I'm not exactly sure why, but the Roman form of begging makes me much less inclined to give. I guess it just shows how American I am: the American form of begging works better on me; I like to think I'm making a personal connection by helping out a person in temporary need (even if I suspect that's not really the case).

I realizes that blogging about beggars isn't very frolicsome, but the difference between Roman beggars and American panhandlers gives me something to reflect on this Lent, when we are supposed to engage in almsgiving.

I got a cellphone! (finally)

2008-02-07T12:07:00.000+01:00

I got a cellphone for my birthday!

Thomas

My boots

2008-02-06T20:18:00.000+01:00

** Sophie

Carnevale

2008-02-05T21:45:00.000+01:00

Carnevale is not a real big deal here in Rome -- perhaps because these days they don't seem to really say goodbye to carne -- but we did get a little parade going by our window this morning.

--Fritz

Umbrian adventures

2008-02-05T11:44:00.000+01:00

We spent the last three days in Tuscany ( Siena and Arezzo) and Umbria ( Assisi). I'll let someone else tell of our Tuscan adventures and focus on those we had in Umbria. Our second morning of travel, we woke up early and left our hotel in Arezzo around 9 a.m., headed for Asisi. After several hours on the bus, we arived in Asisi, where we visited the church of St. Francis and then went on a walking tour of the city. We ended up in front of the church of St. Claire, where we were released for a lunch and a free afternoon.

After a quickish lunch, we set off with a few of the students to visit to the castle above Asisi. On the way there, we ran into two student returning from the castle who informed us that there were secret passages in the castle! Running to the castle, we stopped for only a few minutes to apreciate the view before hurrying on.

After we got tickets (stopped by the man at the ticket booth who apparently didn't recognize us as people who can go anywhere without paying when Denis and I ran past him), we finally got to the castle and began looking for the secret passages. We found several that led only to walls, as well as a spiral staircase that led to the top of a tower from which the view was breathtaking.

As we were leaving, Denis found a hole in the wall that led to another spiral staircase, this one taking us to the top of the wall and a passage that we all hurried down. It went on for farther than we could see. When we finally came out, we were on top of a tower conected to the castle by a wall. We were all blown away by the view and almost by the wind as well. We clung to the rail and stared at Umbria, sprawled below us.

When it was time to go back to our meeting place from which we would be taken to the bus and Rome, we left reluctantly. Little else happened aside from me and Denis getting lost, in a sense (we knew where we were, it was just our parents who didn't). I can't help wondering how unadventurous our Umbrian adventures would have been if we hadn't stumbled upon that passage in the wall.

**Sophie

Under the Tuscan Rain

2008-02-05T09:17:00.000+01:00

First, a note on our blog entries, gentle blog readers. We are finding that our days are very full here, and the pace of our experiences outstrips our ability to sit, reflect and write about them, so we sometimes neglect you, our readers. Part of the reason for that, very likely, is that, in addition to our cultural, historical and artistic explorations, we are also respecting time devoted to enjoying leisurely meals, finding parks, sleeping in a bit (read that as "not dragging the kids out of bed in the morning" -- one of my favorite parts of this venture), and watching episodes from the first season of Heroes on dvd. We apologize that we can't include you all in everything here -- mainly because we love you and wish you could share the loveliness and interestingness of our life here -- but we do need some time just to live it. So, you will get glimpses and moments, some larger reflections, and we will still have tales to tell when we get back.

We just spent a great weekend in Tuscany and Umbria under the direction of David Dawson-Vasquez, the director of the Loyola/CUA program in Rome. We did not do the obvious (go to Florence and see the great Renaissance art there), because David rightly assumes students will do that for themselves. Instead, we spent a day each in Siena, Arezzo, and Assisi, time-traveling back and forth from about the 12th to the 14th century, with short stops in various other eras every once in a while.

For Thomas' birthday on Sunday, we had a wine tasting in the castle in the hills above Florence where the infamous Pazzi conspiracy was hatched. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular bit of Italian history, the Pazzi's were a rival banking family to the powerful Medici family in Florence. They, together with others (and with the support of the pope) attempted to murder Lorenzo "the Magnificent" and his brother Giuliano de Medici at the consecration of the Eucharist during Easter Sunday Mass at the cathedral in Florence in 1478. They succeeded in killing Giuliano, but the magnificent Lorenzo survived and proceeded to wipe the Pazzi family off the Florentine map, killing about 100 family members in 5 days and even destroying the family crest wherever it appeared in the city of Florence. You don't mess with magnificence. The Pazzi's remain enshrined to this day in the Italian language, however, in which "pazzi" means crazy.

But there we were, standing in the very room where the ill-fated plot was hatched, and I'm thinking to myself, "Is that really a Rafael painting on the wall beside me?" and, sure enough, it was one of his Bella Giardiniera (Beautiful Gardener) Madonnas with baby Jesus and John the Baptist. Amazing.

So we went through the rooms where the family lives in the castle and went on down into the dungeon, where the winemaking and aging and storing goes on. We learned about different grades of wine and olive oil (which they also make there) and the dangers of eating anything called simply "olive oil" as opposed to "extra virgin olive oil." Gentle readers, know that if it doesn't say "extra virgin," it is likely 3rd grade oil, much less pure, and like to result in unnamed but clearly ominous consequences. I must say, the tasting portion of the evening included bread with fresh extra virgin olive oil and salt, and it was squisito, as we say in Italian.

The kids were ready to move into the castle from the word go, but it was way too cold for me. It may not have been the best moment for me to consider the move, since we'd been walking around in the rain all day, and I was putting a pretty high value on warm and dry at that moment. But the place was fabulous, and we toasted Thomas on his 16th, when he became a legal drinker in Italy (though any good Italian is bred on watered down wine from a much younger age).

There was, of course, much more to the weekend, including a Cimabue crucifix,

frescoes by Piero della Francesca, the head and finger of Sophie's patroness Catherine of Siena, and all of Assisi, which is fabulous and very moving. As Fritz said, the tomb of Francis does indeed feel like one of those "thin places between heaven and earth." It is a place to which we hope to return before we leave Italy. I will leave the description of Assisi's stronghold or "Rocca Maggiore" to the kids, who are now ready to move in there (despite its half-ruined walls and missing floors and ceilings).

I myself remain very happy with our Roman apartment, from which, gentle readers, we can visit these many wonders and share them with you.

Maureen

Lenardo da Vinci

2008-01-31T11:56:00.000+01:00

On Wednesday we went to the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit and we saw many cool machines. He often used the six simple machines (lever, wedge, screw, pulley, inclined plane, and wheel and axel) to make his inventions.

This invention used stones to measure distance:

It is designed to drop stones at regular intervals into a bucket and when you're done you count the stones.

This is a model of a tank:
This tank was manned by eight men. This is very cool.

This is a machine gun Leonard da Vinci designed:
You would put in bullets in the holes between the wheels. Then you would turn a crank and it would fire.

This is a flying machine that didn't work. The wings we supposed to flap:
We made it look like Sophie was attached, but she wasn't.

Here I am looking like I'm breaking the rules. . .. . . but I'm not really.

Leonardo da Vinci was AWESOME!!!!

Denis (aka the Majority)

The Nativity (and more) at St. Peter's

2008-01-30T14:52:00.000+01:00

Yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon we walked over to St. Peter's to see the outdoor nativity scene in the square. They leave it up until February 2 -- Candlemas: the Feast of the Presentation of Christ in the Temple -- which is sort of the last dying gasp of Easter and the date when you really begin to be embarassed about still having your tree up.

This year's nativity scene has raised a few comments because it seems to depict the Holy Family at home (as in Matthew's Gospel), rather than in the stable (as in Luke's Gospel). Thus, we get Jospeh's carpenter shop depicted as part of the scene:What is sort of strange is that certain elements from Luke are also incorporated, such as the manger, as if Mary and Jospeh had a manger instead of a crib in their house. Oh well, I suppose one ought to make certain concessions to popular expectations.

While at St. Peter's, we took in mor eof the sights, since Sophie and Denis don't really remember much from our visits here five years ago.The kids were particularly impressed by the point in the square where the four rows of columns. . .

. . . all line up to look like a single row:

The fountains were beautiful in the setting sun:

We went inside briefly and were once again impressed by the vastness of the place:

We discovered lots of different things there. . .

Some of them surprising, such as the fact that the altar paintings are all actually mosaics.

Some of what we discovered was strange. . .
. . .some of it was very strange. . .

. . . and some of it was very, very strange.

We got gelato on the way home. Sophie says to make sure everyone knows that it was very good.

--Fritz

The Starlings of Rome

2008-01-27T08:39:00.000+01:00

E come li stornei ne partan l'ali
nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e piena,
cosi quel fiato li spiriti mali
di qua, di la, di gui, di su li mena;
nulla speranza, li conforta mai,
non che di posa, ma di minor pena.

As winter starlings riding on their wings
Form crowded flocks, so spirits dip and veer
Foundering in the wind's rough buffetings,
Upward or downward, driven here and there
With never ease from pain nor hope of rest.

Dante, Inferno, Canto V

Robert Pinsky, trans.

On Friday we were up on the Janiculum at sunset and noticed what we at first took to be smoke -- a strange dark cloud swirling over the city. Upon closer inspection, we saw that it was a gigantic flock of birds, starlings, flying in close formation, turning and folding in upon itself as it was buffeted by the wind. Last night, again right around sunset, we saw them again, this time closer up.

I've been to Rome a number of times, but somehow I missed out on this apparently well-known phenomenon. Here is an article from the New York Times Magazine about it. The birds leave the city during the day to feed in the countryside, and return in the evening to roost.

It is a sight that is at once eerie and fascinating. I can now understand why Dante used the image in the Inferno to describe the eternal fate of those souls who were in this life controlled by their passions. The birds lose all individual identity and seem to give themselves over to the random current of air that push them this way and that. It is somewhat ominous, while at the same time beautiful.

But it is is easier to show than to describe. Here are a couple of pictures taken by Sophie:

And here is a video we found on YouTube (double-click the arrow):

--Fritz

Santa Maria in Trastevere

2008-01-25T14:43:00.000+01:00

I stopped into our local parish for Mass and a look around this morning. Santa Maria is on the site of one of the oldest churches in Rome and the current building dates from around 1140 (practically brand new, by Roman standards). It is also the home of the San Egidio Community, a lay movement in the Catholic Church that began after the Second Vatican Council and that focuses on prayer, service to the poor, and working for peace. They have evening prayer at Santa Maria every night, with scores of people present.

Santa Maria's St. Anthony looks a bit burdened by all the requests made of him. I wonder if these are all for lost objects?
--Fritz

St. Paul's (and Football)

2008-01-25T00:48:00.000+01:00

Today we had to get up at 7:00 (1:00 a.m. American time) to go to St. Paul's Basilica. While it was not my ideal time to go visit a church, it ended up being pretty interesting. The courtyard outside the basilica has an imposing staue of St. Paul standing in the middle of it with a sword.

David Dawson-Vasquez, the director of the Rome program and our tour guide for the day, tells us that the sword represents the fact that he had his head chopped off, but Denis still thinks he looks like he wants to chop our heads off.

We then enter the actual basilica, where we are all temporarily awed by the huge ceiling and rows upon rows of stone pillars

Our attention is quickly diverted to a small desk where we are all recieving little radios, which are connected to a microphone attached to David's headset. We all fumble with them and try to figure out whether they are working or not for a couple of minutes. Then about five of us go back to get new ones, and hurry to catch up to the group. My attention is immediately caught by the imposing statue of St.Paul and his large, flowing Gandalf beard.

I try and take several pictures then, but the light is to bad. (I eventually come back later and take this picture using my mom's head as a place to rest the camera.) We then hurry to catch up to the rest of the group, where we learn a little but about the cieling

We then move on to the relic chapel (where they keep all the relics.) and see the chains that held St. Paul while he was imprisoned. After that, we go out into the cloister, where the monks walk and pray.

We take a few more pictures and then head back into the main part of the basilica, take a picture of the holy doors, and leave.

I had a very eventful day, which I will not lay out in detail here, but the short story is that it turns out that I am going to be playing American football, of all sports, while I am here, but it is now 12:30 in the morning, so I will give more details about this tomorrow.

-Thomas

Views from the Gianicolo

2008-01-24T21:03:00.000+01:00

A sunset over Rome, as seen from atop the GianicoloPalm trees on the Gienicolo against the sunset

More places to know in Trastevere...

Toy shop: Via del Moro
Pastry shop: Via del Moro

... and the rest of Rome

Second hand clothing stores: Via del Governo Vecchio (2)
Toy shop: Via del Governo Vecchio

**Sophie

Jetlagged and Hungry

2008-01-23T19:27:00.000+01:00

This is going to be alot shorter than everybody else's entries because there is not much to say that hasn't already been said. A combination of jetlag and eating every meal two or three hours later than I normally would has left me completely devoid of any thoughts that would possibly interest anybody, so I think I will end this post here.

-Thomas

"Due Rossi Peperone, Per Favore."

2008-01-22T22:00:00.000+01:00

The morning started (for Thomas and me) with a small, jetlagged 2 a.m. gathering in the kitchen. For everyone else, it started with a quiet breakfast of bread, honey, and cheese that was eaten whenever you woke up.

Once everyone was awake, my mom left to try out the bus system and sign some papers about the apartment and my dad and I departed to look for a market. After much wandering, we finally found a small market that sold fruits, vegetables, meat, and fish. We bought some oranges for snacks and some vegetables for lunch and dinner. The last things we got were two red peppers, or, as I learned, due rossi peperone.

My dad had decided it was time to put my scimmia Italiano (monkey Italian) to use, so he made me ask for the peppers. I just pointed at the peppers and muttered something about "due... rosso..." . The woman at the stall undrestood me well enough. I had had my first conversation in Italian, if you could call it a that.

After the market, we set off in search of a bakery. We wandered around the alleys of Trastevere for about half an hour before finally asking a passer-by, "Dove pane?", or, "Where is bread?" He was carrying a bread bag, at least. We followed his directions to a small pizzaria/ bakery where we bought a loaf of warm, fresh bread, then headed home.

When we got home, we cooked some pasta for lunch (not bad, but a little undercooked and kind of wierd), our first lunch living in Rome. After lunch, Denis and I washed the dishes and I broke a wine glass by dropping a knife on it (basically).

PLACES TO KNOW IN TRASTEVERE

Bakery: Via del Moro
Gelateria: Via Benedetta
Small grocery store: Vicolo del Cinque

**Sophie

Our First Day

2008-01-22T21:00:00.000+01:00

When I woke up, or more was woken up by my dad, to help fix the jet lag by geting me on Roman time, I lay in bed for awhile, got up and had breakfast. Later I was leaning out the window and a random Italian saw me and said "Ciao" and I responded "Ciao". Then Sophie and my dad went to the market. They came home and my dad cooked funky pasta. We think it was made of potato; anyway it was thick and undercooked, or if you would like to be polite, extremely al dente. After lunch Sophie, Thomas, my mom and I went to the Gianicolo or Janiculum. We saw a wonderful sunset and moon rise. Then Thomas, Sophie and I tried to figure out who Guiseppe and Anita Garibaldi were. We had a dinner of bread, cheese, and sandwiches of an unknown origin (the airplane). We went out for gelatto and God saw that it was good.

Denis A.K.A The Majority (Rules)

Settling in

2008-01-22T18:52:00.000+01:00

I'll let Sophie (or others) give more of the details of the day, but I successfully rode two different buses to get to the real estate agent's office to sign our apartment contract today. I am very proud of this -- especially since I knew enough about where I was to get off and walk the last 15 minutes after a car accident COMPLETELY stopped traffic.

The kids and I went exploring later and saw an amazing moonrise over the city from the Gianicolo, one of the seven hills of Rome, just behind our new house. And I made the kids decipher the symbols and signs on the monuments to Anita and Guiseppe Garibaldi to figure out who they were, so they've learned a little Italian history and we can count our walk as school! La vita e veramente bella.

Maureen

Baloney Alley: The Bigger Picture

2008-01-22T09:25:00.000+01:00

View Larger Map

Well, Here We Are

2008-01-21T22:00:00.000+01:00

Our departure from Baltimore went smoothly, except Sophie forgot Big Tiger, who has been her near-constant companion for the past decade or so. Fortunately our friends Anne and Ella, who had helped take us to the airport, did a quick run back to our house and rushed BT to the terminal. It's a good thing too, since BT was instrumental in Sophie catching an hour or so of sleep during our layover at Heathrow.
When we arrived in Rome we crammed into the van that we had arranged to pick us up (it's amazing how little something can be and still qualitfy as a "van" in Europe) and headed off for our home for the next three months: the Vicolo di Bologna, which Maureen insists is translated "Baloney Alley." As small as the van is, it can't fit down our street. So we unload in the square that the alley runs off of and stand around for a bit. . .
. . .then we head off, schlepping our bags down our new street:
. . . and found our apartment, which is on its own little "mini piazza."
We'll post more soon, but now we need food and bed.

--Fritz

We're Off (Almost)

2008-01-20T21:37:00.000+01:00

Be glad I spared you descriptions of the packing and cleaning. The former is pretty much done. The latter. . . well, we leave for the airport in less than an hour, so our house-sitters will just have to deal. It's OK. They look pretty tough.

--Fritz

Why "Frolic and Detour"?

2008-01-16T01:27:00.000+01:00

Maureen tells me this is a term from tort law. If you are doing something for your employer, but leave that task to do some personal business, and then are injured while doing that personal business, your employer is not liable, because you were on a "frolic and detour."

While I will be working while we are in Rome, the whole adventure does have a bit of a frolic and detour quality to it. So we thought we'd start this blog to help our friends in the States and elsewhere keep up with our frolicking and detouring.

We leave Sunday. Between now and then I don't think we will be posting much about our housecleaning, which isn't very frolicsome.

--Fritz

Frolic & Detour

Our Last Night in Rome

Defend the Fort

Sunrise Over Rome

Requiem: The Graveyard at San Miniato

FREAK JOB!!!

Firenze

Wonderful, revolting cheese

San Clemente

Uncle Clayt gets the last word

Haiku-off

Sorrento

Bufala (*squeal!*)

Pompeii

Naples

More Popery

Whew!

The Aqueducts

A Bit Of Work

Easter Vigil at the Vatican

Good Friday

bIRTHDAY bLOG

Are You the Bwaaaaain Specialist?

We're back and Sophie's 13!

Nothing to Blog

Sunday Morning in Trastevere

Gnocchi? Gno thanky!

Popestravaganza

Ostia Antica

Poetry

Knife Sharpening

The Feast of the Chair of Peter

Two Days At The Market

The Quest for Ella's Boots

The Vatican and Borghese Gardens

A picture is worth a thousand words

Happy St. Valentine's Day

Sunday Morning Varia

The Latest way to see Rome. . .

American Football in Rome

Roman Beggars and American Panhandlers

I got a cellphone! (finally)

My boots

Carnevale

Umbrian adventures

Under the Tuscan Rain

Lenardo da Vinci

The Nativity (and more) at St. Peter's

The Starlings of Rome

Santa Maria in Trastevere

St. Paul's (and Football)

Views from the Gianicolo

Jetlagged and Hungry

"Due Rossi Peperone, Per Favore."

Our First Day

Settling in

Baloney Alley: The Bigger Picture

Well, Here We Are

We're Off (Almost)

Why "Frolic and Detour"?

Bufala (squeal!)