This is Todd Borgie and today we spent the day checking out
Rome!
I woke up this morning to the sounds that Jeff and Doug make in their sleep. Yes, I was growing accustomed to the myriad of sounds they could make, but that still didn't make it any more pleasant. We have been hearing about Rome since we began this trip. One of Nick's top five expressions is "Rome wasn't built in a Day, but you can see it in a day" so we're going to do our best to meet the "Nick Challenge."
First things first. All through the trip Jeff has been monetarily foiled by corporate bureaucracy and financial red tape. All he wanted to do was sell some stock when he ran out of money for the trip. Well, easier said than done. It seemed like he was having trouble at every turn, and there seemed to be more turns in this adventure than the river Meander.
While Jeff was taking care of his finances I was answering a few of the numerous e-mails that we downloaded. An interesting one came from Ron Gonzalez of Southern California. Ron asks, "While traveling around the world, do you feel more or less like an American?" I was struck by his question.
I suppose I feel less like an American when I am traveling, as everyday seems more like a new day than in America. As a person, who was born and raised in the United States, there is a certain comfort level in which I have grown accustomed. It's similar to the feeling you have after being in a pool for a while. You no longer feel cold nor wet, as you have become numb and assimilated into a new environment. Traveling is similar to that shocking feeling you get when you jump into a pool of water on a hot day. The subtle nervousness before you jump, the excitement of the point of no return, and finally the intense feeling you get as the water coats your skin making you aware of parts of your body that seemed dead until they were met by this cold new stimulus.
"American" is a label that we use to classify or limit people or things. In many instances the word American is interpreted as a complete novel. It is a loaded adjective that stands like a brick wall in conversation; a signpost directing assumption-filled travelers wherever they would like to go.
Stating that you are an American in conversation most often allows the participants in that conversation to brush off the complexities of the individual and take a very political approach to communication. This being the case, it's easy to assume that the people who have said they are American both accept and promote the current causes and customs of their country. I think this assumption is bold and insulting. There are a lot of things I both love and hate about America, I am not America, by just that fact that I am from there. I am a composite of my own thoughts and experiences. To make this more personal, I'll use an analogy with my family. There are things that I love and hate about my immediate family. To say that I am exactly like my father reduces his experience as well as my own. Everyone is a loser when these blanket statements are used.
While traveling and living abroad I have come to realize the distance between people and politics. When I was living in The Gambia, a coup d'etat occurred. At that time those of us who lived in the villages were attempting to protect our nearly mature rice from the birds. Everyday I would wake up in the morning and ride my bike to my mother's rice field. I would sit there throughout the day with a sling in one hand and a book in the other protecting the plot from the hungry birds. The coup occurred, unbeknown to my fellow villagers and me. We had no idea that a change of government had occurred, for life in the village, all we knew was that the birds still came everyday, no matter who was in charge in the Capitol.
Our form of government allows us to elect people to represent us, but we have not elected them to take our identities. Ideally we should try to relate to people as individuals; after all, all we have to offer anyone are our feelings, thoughts, and experiences. Everything else can be looked up online or in a book.
Traveling along in our own vehicles, especially older ones, allows us to pass through remote places and interact with people that are not so politically aware, or indoctrinated. Traveling in older vehicles also increases the likelihood of break downs that mandate maintenance stops. Therefore, traveling the way we do increases the amount of interaction we have with different types of people. It's a great way to go.
When traveling by plane or train, these modes of transportation only stop in the larger towns and cities. Restaurants and hotels are geared towards travelers. It is much more common to be treated as an American in these places, rather than an individual, as you are judged by the behavior of the last American that walked through the door. Many of the places that we have visited are places that Americans don't frequent, therefore we were treated as individuals rather then Americans.
Since I was not treated as an American in many places, I felt much more like a citizen of the world. We all have our hopes, dreams and disappointments, yet we are all from unique experiences. Years might label me as American, but I believe we are all much more than that.
Finally at about 11 a.m. the team was mustered and we set out for an adventure. We had our version of an Italian breakfast that included wonderful sausage lasagna. Then we headed for the train station and the day's adventures.
The first adventure was trying to coordinate five independent people onto the same train. Everyone was trying to figure out the public transport system and eventually Nick led the group onto the correct train. We spent some time jostling around below ground, but finally made it onto the correct train. We pushed our way onto the crowded train and the doors shut behind us.
The train was traveling at a good pace, rattling back and forth with quick stops and starts. There was standing room only so we grabbed a bar and tried to confine ourselves to one particular space. A woman holding a baby stood beside Nick and Chanda. She was nudging and bumping into us but this wasn't unusual, after all holding a baby, she was unable to hold a rail. Moments after the second stop and an abrupt start, a man beside Nick nudged his head in the direction of the woman and said, “Watch her!” We were oblivious for a moment and then Nick looked down, and saw the woman's hand inside his backpack. She was one of the Gypsy thieves we'd heard so much about and this one was very cleverly using her baby to conceal her hand underneath. Nick asked the woman what she thought she was doing. The woman quickly removed her hand and made eye contact with him. According to Nick, there was tremendous sadness in her eyes. She was caught red handed so she was playing a sympathy part. Moments later the train stopped, doors opened, and the woman ran out. We all just stood and looked at each other. We were speechless. A few locals on the train reminded us to watch out. “They're very clever, those Gypsy's.” Said one woman. “You have to watch them v-e-r-y carefully.” Most of the people seemed numb to the incident however. That's pretty sad for such a nice city to have these problems. Nick later reported a similar Gypsy's attack that had occurred during a trip to Rome ten years ago. The tactic was similar where a Gypsy family, ranging all ages, swarmed around him in a nearby subway tunnel. They were holding pieces of cardboard that they use to ambush their victim. A couple of them placed a 1 foot by 1 foot piece of cardboard between the victim's face and their belongings, then some of them distract the victim with smiles and pats while the others invade, grabbing anything they can get their hands on.
After leaving the train, we climbed out of the subway and on to the Streets of Rome, hoping we would be on one that led to the Sistine Chapel. On our way we met two people from Texas going our same direction. We talked as we headed towards Michelangelo's masterpiece. Our conversation focused on the legalities of marijuana smoking in Amsterdam, as it pertained to government workers in the states. Could a person, who smoked pot in Amsterdam, where it is legal, return to the States and fail a drug test and be fired, as a consequence of his foreign adventures? Our new friend was a Texas policeman, so this was applicable. How far does the law go? We were unable to answer this question.
Anyway, we made it to the Sistine chapel and were all dazed and confused! There is so much artwork that it is hard to direct your attention to one specific piece. I got rather frustrated as I wanted to see everything, but I wanted to feel everything as well. Both sides of me battled for position as I walked through the great halls and rooms. To describe the place is almost feudal, as art is such a personal experience. How does a mountain climber explain the feeling of being on the top of a mountain? Perhaps the eyes of the individual hold the least obstructed view into the real feeling of the experience.
We left the Sistine Chapel, as it was closing down in the mid-afternoon and headed for St. Peter's Basilica. Nick danced down the street as he recounted his previous travels in this city. After a short stop at the post office we arrived at St. Peter's square, which looked more like a circle to me. This is one of the largest squares in the world. We looked at St. Peter's Basilica and Nick pointed to the balcony where the Pope stands every Christmas as he addresses his people, gathered in this Holy Square.
We headed toward St. Peter's Basilica, crossed the Vatican Guard, and went inside. Growing up Lutheran, which from a cursory glance was only a few steps to the left of Catholic, I was well versed in Protestant Church history. As Lutherans, we learned about the Protestant/Catholic problems, the attempts at reconciliation, and the eventual split. During my childhood, I learned that a large portion of the money used to build these magnificent structures was collected in the name of forgiveness of sins. The Catholic Church sold indulgences, which were basically price tags on sins. If you did something “wrong,” you will need to pay this much for forgiveness. This was a big problem that the German Martin Luther sighted in his 95 theses, a document that outlined problems with the state of Catholic affairs in 1517. When he completed this document he tacked it upon the door of his local church. This started a dialog between he and the church that eventually caused him to be excommunicated from the Catholic faith. He then started the Protestant reformation and fueled the Spanish Inquisition. The thought I inherited from this history was, "Although the word of God is truth, a message is only as pure as those who convey it." The question of the truth is something I personally struggle with everyday.
As I walked around I was inspired to see what humans could produce when so motivated. I was inspired and humbled by the prospects and hopes in which, at one of its highest levels, this was the embodiment of. However, at the same time I was aware of the muddy path that has marked the course of the human race.
I continued to fight within myself as I thought about Western and Eastern religions and how I was seeing them. I think about the great Structures we build for our God and wonder who we are kidding. If God created the heavens and the earth, why would god be impressed with a Basilica? The moment after I thought of this I was reverently humbled feeling a presence of God in the building? What was producing these conflicting thoughts and feelings?
All I knew is that I wanted to understand these feelings so I separated myself from the group and sat down in a prayer filled alcove. I was put immediately into a self-reflective mode where I became aware of the anger that had been building up inside me, especially over the last few weeks, and in some cases over my lifetime. This place and what was inside it was helping me clear my thoughts and focus my anger, helping me to creatively solve some of the troubles I was presently having. Is this programming or was I in the presence of God?
After collecting the group, and myself we left the building to go up into the dome. Once back on the front steps we looked up and saw and amazing thing in the sky. It looked like a giant black funnel cloud rotating in the sky. Nick thought it was a plague of pestilence but after a more attentive look, it looked like a giant swarm of bees undulating in the sky. The swarm created shapes only to have them dissolve into different ones. We looked at each other in wonder and finally realized these were birds, thousands of them flying in a great big group, changing direction in unison and making beautiful patterns in the sky. It was almost like the sky was breathing as the positions and shapes were constantly changing. We watched for about 15 minutes, not any of us having seen anything of the like before. Checkout the video from today and see for yourself.
We all collected as a group and made our way toward the top of the Basilica to look out over the city of lights. We climbed up stairs, through hallways, around corners, and finally made our way to the top. Rome was beautiful as we gazed meditatively over this ancient and modern City.
The group could handle only so much of this quiet mode and a race to the bottom ensued. Around the circular staircases we ran, laughing, trying to keep our balance, while not losing any ground to our competitors. This child-like camaraderie was something we were always able to hold onto, a special gift that got us through many tough times
Once on the ground we began to look for a place to eat. Figuring 5:30 p.m. was not an unreasonable time for dinner. However, our eating patterns did not fit with the greater population, as we soon found out, the standard dinner hour did not begin until after 8:00 p.m. We were all very hungry, so we decided to look for a bar for appetizers. We walked the street not finding anything that suited us so we all gave in to a small Pizza-by-the-slice place. We thought we were only having a snack, but the snack soon turned into dinner.
We finished up the evening with some shopping and then retired to our Hotel. Tomorrow we will pick up our new traveling companion; Chanda's brother Russ!
This is Todd Borgie saying safe travels.
