DAY 47: “Illegaliens"

I feel for Grizzly Adams… I now know what it’s like to sleep in a bear den… a lovely cold has been passed around the group (probably because we share everything) and due to congestion, my roommates, who shall remain anonymous, snored so loud, they could’ve awakened the Pope. Even with my noise/people/world cancelling headphones on, the nasal blockage penetrated through… might have to write Bose a letter of complaint. I considered going out for a walk but it was raining… damn. Can you imagine being an insomniac in prison? You would then be passed on to the Loony Bin… After about 3 torturous hours of rolling around on a roll-away, I got ready for the day… we had to catch a bus to get up to the Bourgese gardens (“The Harv” didn’t want to hoof it…) and along comes the Barbie minivan… you know the battery powered kiddy cars that rev up to 5 miles an hour and come to a screeching halt when you take your foot off the gas? We packed all 16 of us in like sardines and puttered up the hill- it was hilarious.

We arrived in Candyland (Galleria de Bourgese)… it is a huge park, north of the city with ancient fountains of old horse busts spraying water out into shallow pools of wishful change… Cyprus trees that kiss the clouds and statues of chivalrous heroes mounted on their patina’d steed… Snack wagons thwarting traffic with roasted peanuts and rainbows of gelato mounds… families chased each other on Segways and roller blades… lovers fondled on vast green lawns… peddlers romancing flutes and violins… dogs played “I’ll-sniff-your-butt-if-you-sniff-mine.” All under 65-degree sunrays… I could’ve wasted the day laying in a garden, watching the clouds race each other. But, there was much Bernini to be seen in the Museo Bourgese and little time to be spent indoors before my UV requirement kicked in.

Greek Mythology makes me sweat with glee… Bernini is a master a la marble and created some of THE BEST sculptures I’ve ever seen- and I’ve seen A LOT. Remember when I stated that, sculpture from now on, will have to slap me conscious to leave an impression? Well Bernini filled a chainmail glove full of rocks and went to town on my mug. My fav: Apollo e Dafne… he depicted how dangerous love is among the God’s. It was, the MOMENT, Apollo captures Daphne- just as he touches her, she turns into a tree. Leaves stemmed from her fingertips and toes while bark wraps up and around her waist to her long curl hair that transforms into branches. They were completely off balance, yet so solid (isn’t every good relationship?). The passion in their faces was heartbreaking… as if they were saying good-bye for the last time. Now he’ll go and sit under this beautifully gnarled tree everyday, lost and defeated by love. I was positively enraptured that stone could tell such a tale.

After my fix of passion for the day, we wandered to a lake on which swans and quackers dodged numbered canoes… again with the tourists… didn’t they know I wanted to enjoy Rome sans the screaming children in floatation devices? Weaving our way back to the center of the city, we enjoyed views of the city below us and sauntered down the Spanish steps; which forced me to contemplate filming here… how on Earth do they dispose of ALL these people?! Especially the “Illegaliens” (you can figure that one out…) that practically force rose stems in your palm and making farting noises when you reject them. I threw my arms up at one man who was shoving them in my face, nearly knocking the bouquet out of his hand… he threatened my family’s life. A majority of us stopped for some grub at L’Enotec Antica, a happenin’ wine bar with the typical Italian cuisine… I mowed some crepes filled with spinach and ricotta under fresh tomato sauce. That hit the spot for the rest of the day as I ventured off on my own- much needed solo time. They closed off Via del Corso (biggest shopping street in the city) and because of the weather, everyone, and their mother and her Bridge Club decided to meander also… I picked up a few art supplies and enjoyed string quartets flanking shop corners and break dancers drawing crowds in church squares. My dogs were HOWLING when I arrived at the hotel, just in time to meet Jeff Conger, our other professor (who will soon have a significant nickname) on this wonderful trip we’re disguising as school. (I’ve learned more in the last 47 days than any college semester taught me- BY FAR.) We joined forces once again and single-filed it over the Tiber to a church that was (surprisingly) in mass. Golden mosaics dwelled high in the altar, simmering down on a full choir who broke into gospel just as we walked in… I stood, literally breathless, as chills ran up my spine. It was the most moving 30 seconds of my life… I never would have thought something like that would touch me so greatly, but the angelic voices that serenaded their humble audience in the vast, candle lit room was incredible.

I tried to top angels in song with walnut and coconut gelato, but to no avail… church wins the gold tonight. After watching The Notebook for the umpteenth time, I hit the hay- earplugs intact. Sunday-Funday in Roma manana! Chow chow ch-ch-ch-chow.