Adventures at the Vatican
It seems I can't go to the Vatican without having some sort of adventure lately! Not that I mind. It's just... back home, I lead a relatively simple life. If you would ask me whether anything exciting happened to me during the day, a typical answer could be, "It was bread bowl soup day in the Dining Hall!" or "I got to go to TARGET!" If you were to ask me that here in Rome, however, my answers for the past few days would be, "I saw the Pope this morning" (today's response) or "I got a free visit to the top of the dome at St. Peter's...!" (yesterday's response). I can't even tell you how surreal is to hear those words come out of my mouth.
So I'll begin with yesterday. What a glorious day it was! One of the best I've ever experienced in all 19.62 years of my life, I must say. I had two morning classes, which went well though I was rather tired, and then went to Pascucci's for lunch. I had a trecce con mozarella e spinaci (just a grilled cheese and spinach sandwich, only amazing) and a Happy Hippo. Have I mentioned Happy Hippos yet? They're probably the greatest things I've ever eaten. They look like cute little hippos and taste like heaven! I might have to devote a post to them. Anyway, after lunch Kelly and I wandered around trying to find L'Opera to get my haircut, and walked halfway to the Vatican before we discovered that it was only a block away from the hotel! Boo. So we backtracked, and found our way inside. The people were very talkative and friendly, and I got a full scalp massage hair washing, a really nice haircut, and a 20% discount! They really like SMC girls... one of the girls who was here last semester or last year is actually featured as a model in their current hair book and advertisements! It's pretty cool. After I left, I went back to put on my cute new boots and a skirt to go down to the Vatican for Mass in St. Peter's. I was alone, but I seem to blend pretty well as long as I keep my mouth shut, so I do alright. For the first time since I've arrived, I felt European. I had the boots, the skirt, a new haircut, and a destination. I've discovered that the best thing you can do here is to just pretend you know where you're going, even if you don't--so long as you walk with purpose, you flow with the crowd.
I arrived there at the perfect time of day! It was right around 4 PM and the sun was starting to descend, behind the Vatican. It was one of those clear, sunny days where just a few puffy clouds wander aimlessly past, and the sun seems to smile down on your face. I strolled around St. Peter's Square for a while, then started in towards the Basilica. There wasn't even a wait! I made my way down, and when I finally walked into the Basilica I felt overcome with emotion. I just stood there gazing above me, smiling with disbelief and joy as a few tears rolled down my face. It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen... the sun was slanting down through the windows, clinging to the dust in the air, and the entire scene felt so surreal. I just wandered around, soaking in the scene and the people and the art and the feeling of awe that seemed to permeate every corner.
I was pausing to take a picture near what appeared to be the preserved body of one of the Pope Innocents (I forget which?) when suddenly a Vatican worker/guard approached me and asked if I would like my picture taken. Surprised and gratified, I replied with a startled, "Si! Grazie!" He took my picture, then asked if I was Italian. I shook my head, and said, "No, sono americana. Parla inglese?" Fortunately, he did! We stood and talked for a minute, and then out of nowhere he asked, "Would you like to see top of Dome?" I just looked at him for a second, dumbstruck. I knew people could go up there, but I thought it was too late in the day. I said, "What?" and he repeated himself, pointing up towards the top. I accepted, and followed him behind some chained off areas into a lift. We went up three levels, and when we got out I found myself walking around the interior of the dome, looking at gorgeous mosaics on all sides of me. There were a couple others with us, and we started heading up some stairs. I quickly realized that we would be climbing the rest of the way... turns out, we climbed 325 stairs to get there! Some of the staircases were really winding and made me dizzy, and we had to pause halfway through to catch our breath.
It was during this climb that I realized my new friend the Vatican worker, Massimo, friendly as he was, probably had one intention: to ask for my number. At first I was just so excited about the opportunity that I didn't even think to decline, but as we were climbing this revelation came to me slowly. Awkward... so we kept climbing up the million stairs and chatting away, though inside I kept desperately hoping that he wouldn't bring up anything related to my telephone number! It was worth everything when we reached the top. We could see EVERYTHING in Rome, because the dome is one of the highest points in the city. The view was spectacular, and Massimo kept pointing out different areas and explaining where all the important things in Vatican City were. I was astounded by the view, particularly because it was just an hour or so before sunset. Absolutely incredible. And this was my first time in the Basilica at all!!
We eventually started back down (which was MUCH easier) so I could attend Mass, and then Massimo finally got around to asking about my number. I told him that I would like to be friends, certainly, but that I have a boyfriend, just so he's aware. He answered, "No no, that's alright! " but was quiet for about 10 seconds before asking, "So is your boyfriend here in Rome?" I told him no, he's in the States, and he said, "Oh!" before falling silent again. Then... "Well maybe he visit?" I answered no again, trying with all my might to think of some new subject to bring up to avert the awkwardness of the situation. He seemed a little more subdued after the exchange, and I felt kind of bad. Nonetheless, he wrote down his name and phone number for me, and told me that if I ever needed tickets for a Papal Audience to just come find him. Haha! He was a really nice guy.
So that was interesting. I went to Mass in the Basilica, which was beautiful, then ran into my friend Theresa, who ran into two seminarians she knew from home! We talked for a while, and they mentioned a place where we could get tickets for the Papal Audience. They set off to go study for their finals (all the Rome seminarians' finals are going on right now) and we took off to go get the tickets. As we started walking, I told Theresa about what had happened, and how I got to see the top of the dome. She stared at me with wide eyes and started laughing. When I asked her what was so funny, she said, "You have to PAY to go up there! He didn't make you pay?" I just looked at her. "No..." We both cracked up, amused by my good fortune. A free personal tour of the top of the Dome on my very first visit to the Basilica! Amazing.
So after that I came to the library, and Theresa went off to get the tickets. She did! And we went to the Papal Audience this morning!! More on that later, but I have class soon so I need to run. Farewell all!
Excitement and Insomnia, Part II
Okay, I'm back! And rather tired. Whew.
So the first morning, as you may have ascertained, my alarm did not go off. At all. I remember waking up and groggily thinking, "Wow, it's really light out for 7 AM!" before glancing at the clock and realizing, with a horrified jolt of reality, that it was 9:20. NOT the ideal start to the first day of classes! The day got better after that though. Music Appreciation was enjoyable, though my professor went around and had us talk about ourselves, including our musical background. Upon discovering that I play piano, one of the girls asked about my favorite song to perform. Stupidly, I said Chopin's Minute Waltz on the piano... there's a piano IN the classroom. So of course Riccardo (our hilariously random professor!) asked me to play a few measures. At first he actually said, "Just a couple mausures," or at least that's how it sounded... he literally had to spell the word for me to make sense of what he was saying! I love all our professors' accents. Anyway, so I went up and played a little, and only after I returned to my seat did I realize that Riccardo was probably an amazing piano player. I immediately began to shake, which, oddly enough, seems to happen after a performance far more than before it! Thank goodness for delayed fear. So now I'm known as the "Piano Girl" which is unfortunate because he expects me to be one of the musicians who can answer all his questions. I hope I can live up to it!
The rest of my classes were great, and right after Religious Studies I joined a few other girls for my first Italian Mass at a beautiful church right up the street. It was very peaceful. That night, though, I didn't fall asleep until 3:30, and I had an 8 AM class. It was really frustrating... I felt exhausted, but my mind felt extremely alert. The next night was even worse! I lay in bed from 12:30 to 5 AM, completely awake but thoroughly exhausted. I got two hours of sleep that night, because of yet another 8 AM class.
So the next day, Wednesday, I decided that in order to sleep, I had to wear myself out COMPLETELY. And I succeeded, in spite of harsh weather. I decided that it was my mission to find the Vatican, because one of my life dreams has been to see St. Peter's Square. I can't believe I'm living a mere 20 minute walk from it now! (The location of the Hotel Tiziano is fabulous. We couldn't have asked for a better place to live!) So we set off, wandering down Corso Vittorio Emanuelle II, crossing the Tiber, and turning left onto the Vatican amidst harsh winds, freezing rain, and the occasional burst of tiny ice pieces, or mini-hail. Stepping into St. Peter's Square, though, made the whole thing worthwhile. I felt overcome with emotion, and just stood and stared for half a minute. The rain had just cleared momentarily, and it was beautiful! At the very center there was a gigantic replica manger set-up, with lifesize statues of the wisemen and Mary and Joseph. It reminded me of the one by the Grotto at ND, though it was much larger... which reminded me of that one night when I decided to befriend the camel. I'm getting really sidetracked though! The point is, St. Peter's is beautiful, and HUGE! The outside is lined by enormous statues of all the Saints, and there are two big fountains on either side of the central obelisk. It was so humbling to just wander around the square, particularly because there were very few people around. I think the rain drove a lot of them away, plus it was around 5 PM so most were attempting to get into Mass. After wandering for a while and taking a few pictures, the rain began to creep back up. Upon exiting the Square, I felt a sudden gust of wind emerge behind me.
I was wearing a skirt.
Yes, you guessed it. In an enormous WHOOSH, my skirt flew up in front of me! I can't even convey to you the level of morifaction I felt in that moment, and I frantically attempted to push it back down. I glanced around me right away, because there were a good number of families, and to my further chagrin discovered a middle-aged Italian man staring at me and then grinning as soon as he caught my eye. I have no idea how far the darn thing flew up or what he saw, but it was awful! I told Shaina I need to pray an extra rosary, haha. So yes, my first visit to the Vatican will forever be haunted by that memory. Alas.
Later that night, after my evening class and dinner, a few of us decided to go in search of Giolitti's and the Spanish Steps. This time, I put on pants. We set out, armed with three brave little umbrellas, and wandered down past the Pantheon, across the Tiber, and into the middle of nowhere. Looking back, I sincerely believe we left the Rome city limits! Unfortunately, another wind/rain/hail storm overtook us just as we started crossing the Tiber River. It was freezing and awful, but we just kept going! We finally accepted that we had no idea where we were and started heading back, when suddenly, there in the distance before us, were the Spanish Steps, in all their immensity! We hurried over to them, climbed all the way to the top, and stood, slightly breathless, enjoying the city lights. And as we stood there, I remember thinking, "Of COURSE we find the Steps right when we're trying to get home! I love it. Wait... how DO we get home? Er...." Nobody really knew, so we ventured a guess and turned right down one of the streets. Wrong. Backtracked, waved at the Steps again, and went left. Still no sense of direction! So we started turning down random streets, following Ellen and Aly, our fearless leaders. They later informed us that they only had a vague concept of where we were, though they answered each persistent "Do you know where we're going?" with very convincing confidence. Eventually we found our way back to a familiar street, which led us to the Pantheon! The relief we felt was indescribable. We were cold and exhausted, but enthused by the adventure.
I had no trouble falling asleep that night.
Interlude again...
I PROMISE I'll finish the other half of that post soon! This weekend has been kind of insane though, and I haven't had any computer access. All I can say is what a week! I'm exhausted in every way, but have a huge list of readings awaiting me as soon as I return to the room. :-/
It's been so incredible already. Part of me still feels like I'm on some extended vacation, and that in a couple days I'll go back home and head on over to SMC. The other part of me feels like there's no way I can ever visit everything I want to see in this city! I love it here. You just round a corner and find another monument, or amazing church, or pretty fountain or cute little cafe or gelateria... it's great. This weekend we visited the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill, a few museums, a really cool Baths place that I can't remember the name of, sadly, but will post as soon as I do, and the COLOSSEUM! It was amazing, and I'll post more about that soon. My time is about to run out at this internet cafe (I'm in my final three minutes) so I'm going to sign off to ensure that this posts.
Love and miss you all! Will write again soon!
(Random interlude to post my class schedule)
So my class schedule is as follows, in case you're interested.
Mondays
8-9:30, Philosophy
11:10-12:40, Music Appreciation
2:20-3:50, Art History
5:30-7, Religious Studies
(Yes, Mondays are rough.)
Tuesdays
8-9:30, Music Appreciation
9:35-11:35, Italian
FREE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY!
Wednesdays8-9:30, Philosophy
2:20-3:50, Art History
Thursdays9:35-11:35, Italian
5:30-7, Religious Studies
So not too bad. I'm at 17 credits, which will keep me busy. I'm planning to check e-mail and such every 1-2 days, though I've been here everyday so far just trying to get everything established and reassure my parents that I'm alive and well. I'll post my address on here soon too, in case you want to write. No pressure though! Love you all.
(The rest of the story so far tomorrow...)
Excitement and Insomnia, Part I
Where to begin... hm. The last couple days before leaving are kind of a blur in my memory, so I don't think I'll even go there. Friday night I was up far too late, and so Saturday morning I was more than ready to doze on our ride down to the airport. I napped a little and spent a good hour reviewing my Italian notebook and old tests. What can I say--panic and reality were starting to hit me in slow waves, and I decided it was better late than never to go over my Italian! Originally I planned to review it all throughout break... but of course that didn't happen. I kind of wish that I had now, but what can you do. So we met up with Nancy and Jim, and went out for my last American meal... at the Olive Garden. Such irony! I love it. We got to the airport and, in my frenzy to make it inside and get checked in, I managed to leave my cell phone in the car. This didn't become an issue until later, when I realized I had one last important phone call to make to a certain someone, and in that moment I think I felt more anxiety than I'd felt during the entire week! But Mom saved the day, and I made my last goodbyes before passing off the cell phone. After a few tears shed, Mom and Dad decided that it was time for me to brave the swarming masses in the security checkpoint, so I gave them both big hugs goodbye and stepped in. It felt kind of odd to be glancing back over them, waving and rolling my eyes in exasperation over the tedious procedures, knowing that it would be the last time I would see their smiles for three and a half months. I took a deep breath, glanced one last time, then stepped through the checkpoint, shoeless and confident. It was quite a relief to meet up with the group! After several reunions and about a half an hour of waiting, we boarded the plane.
For the record, Air France is my new favorite airlines. Not that I've flown enough to compare this experience to much else... but they had little pillows, earplugs, blankets, and eye masks waiting for all of us. Each seat had a little flatscreen TV built into the seat in front of it, upon which we could view movies, play games, listen to music, and watch the progress of the flight (which is really interesting! We ended up flying up into Canada, then circling back down over the bottom of Ireland. I didn't realize we would go so far north, though it makes sense in retrospect, and I was excited to be so close to the North Pole!). I put on "Little Miss Sunshine" which is now one of my new favorite movies. Apparently, though, I watched an edited version, and the real one has much more swearing... but, nonetheless, it was completely hilarious! I found myself laughing out loud, then trying to suppress my laughter by clapping my hands over my mouth, which likely drew more attention to myself than the initial laughter. I got a few amused/bewildered looks, but I didn't care. Most of the SMC girls (plus Danny, one of the 3 boys on the trip) were grouped in the very back, with about 15 empty rows in the sections in front of us. I was enjoying myself immensely when they started to bring around food! A real meal! They gave us a choice between fish and chicken, with veggies, some chocolate pudding, really good breadsticks, a little cinnamon cake thing for dessert, and an odd form of couscous and salmon. The salmon looked disgusting, so I didn't go there, but everything else was pretty good. Though I was too full for the pudding. I guess I just never expected to be fed! On the way to Hawaii we had to pay cash for little bags of chips and things... so this was kind of nice.
I think I slept a little, but it didn't really feel like it when I awoke. We got off in France and somehow found our way to the next terminal, with some minor adventures on the way. During the customs checkpoint, the detector thing beeped both times I walked through. One of the women eyed me, asked something incomprehensible in French, and motioned for me to stick out my arms. She proceeded to give me a full pat down, front and back, and even used a little wand for good measure. I re-joined the others in confusion, and we settled in for another wait. The next several hours were kind of surreal. We flew into Rome, over some beautiful mountains, landed, got our bags, crammed into one bus to head for the Hotel Tiziano, then hurried up to our rooms. I remember lots of little flashes of images... the back of the Vatican, men and women rushing past us on the streets in front of the hotel, disoriented, "Buongiorno's" and lots and lots of people and commotion. It was such a relief to step into my room. I was the first of our triple to arrive, and soon discovered that we got pretty lucky. When you walk in, there's a really nice bathroom straight ahead (which all the girls are jealous of--we even have a bathtub!) and a little hallway with two big wardrobes immediately to the right. When you walk through the hallway, you enter a spacious room with a desk for each of us, cute little beds, a shelf lining the wall, and funky blue and white lights. Off in the corner, two doors open up to an enclosed terrace, which has a wooden fence covered in ivy, a clothesline, and a nice little view of the stars. At first I was disappointed that it didn't open onto the street, but I think it's kind of nice to have such privacy. I like that I can go get a breath of fresh air whenever I feel like, and just sit there and look up at the stars at night.
My roommates soon arrived, and we tried to figure out the bed/clothes situation before our meeting with the program director. Most of us practically fell asleep during the meeting (myself included... there were several close calls in there!) and then were left on our own to go find dinner. I went with some of the girls to L'Insalata Rica and had a really good salad. We walked around for a little while, and I saw one of the cute stores that Kristy really liked, though I didn't get a chance to stop. After that, we unpacked for a couple hours, then crashed. I fell asleep instantly, and didn't even budge for about 10 hours! Unfortunately, the alarm clock was supposed to go off after 8... whoops. Oh, the joys of jet lag.
More on this, and my first real days in Roma, to come.
Buongiorno from Roma!
Hello all... I am safely in Rome, and just spent a full half hour waiting for Blogger to load on this computer. It was extremely frustrating, but I'm glad I got on, if only to let any readers know that I'm here and doing well. I have to get going now (we're going to go find a market to buy some water and, hopefully, some fruit. In honor of Professor Checca, I might even look for a fig, just so I can experience "the fruit of the gods!") As soon as I'm able, perhaps tomorrow, I'll put up a post about my journey over here, like my plane adventures and such. I'll follow that up with a post about life in Rome thus far, just for those of you who have shorter attention spans and wanted me to break down my posts (coughSARAcough). So you'll all have that to look forward to in days to come! Until then, ciao from the Eternal City, and all my love to you back home!
One last thing
I've changed my comments so that anyone can comment. You'll just have to do a word verification before you do so, basically to filter out any computer spam (which became a problem with my other blog). So feel free to comment! I would love to hear from you.
Oh, and any preference on whether my timestamp shows the time in Rome or Central Standard Time back home? Right now it's set to Rome, I think. I'll be 7 hours ahead of CST, 6 ahead of EST, just so you're all aware. That's all for now! Back to work for this girl.
Ciao!
Racy days
I wasn't sure whether this week would drag on, or fly by... but it ended up being the latter. I can scarcely believe it's Friday! I leave tomorrow. I LEAVE THE COUNTRY TOMORROW! I feel an odd mix of fear and exhiliration at the mere thought. On the one hand, I feel rather unprepared. My one semester of intro Italian is rusty, I still have clothes sitting on my bed, movies to return, phone calls to make, and a whole list of other details that have slipped through the cracks. But on the other hand, I feel like I've been ready to begin this adventure for months! For so many weeks I've been preparing for this, waiting in anxious anticipation for January 20th, for my first venture out into the world as an independent young woman. Yes, college is a leap, but this will lead me to an entirely different level of independence. And I'm ready for that. I yearn for it! I know this is right for me.
So as the minutes race past me, I find myself fluctuating between bursts of excitement and sinking moments of heavy anxiety. In one minute, glossy pictures of monuments and statues in my brand new Rome guide book... in the next, another 4-month goodbye, or urgent deadline. Actually, anything that comes up at this point is rather urgent... 20 hours until departure from home. I suppose I'll have to sleep for part of that too, but I'll worry about that later.
For now, I'm just trying to take deep breaths and remind myself that this is an unbelievable blessing, and that everything will be okay. Tomorrow will sneak up on me even faster than I anticipate, and soon I'll find myself staring out the window on my way to the airport... then staring out the plane window after landing in Paris... then staring out the window of my new room at the Hotel Tiziano, deep in the heart of Rome, the Eternal City. And sure, I'll feel overwhelmed at first, and tired and excited and woefully confused all at once. But before I know it, I'll find myself staring out the same windows in reverse order, scarcely believing that three and a half months could go so fast. I may not feel completely ready, and I might forget something important... but I know I'll find my way.
"I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength."
It is time. Roma, here I come!
(I'll post again as soon as I'm able... probably Monday or Tuesday?)
Life without a cell phone
My cell phone is an item of great necessity and annoyance, one that more often gets me
into trouble than keeps me safe
in case of trouble. The reasons for such complications are thus:
1) I love to talk! But sometimes I talk for greater lengths of time than our cell phone plan, shared by five people, allows. For example, in just two days during this past week, I managed to suck up a third of the minutes allotted to us for the entire month. Whoops...
2) I am a rather forgetful person when it comes to certain daily tasks. I forget my phone a LOT. And even when I have it, I usually leave it on silent and forget to check it! These two actions prompt countless disgruntled voicemails from my father, who seems to wonder why I even own a cell phone if I never answer it. I've grown accustomed to these comments, and have really made an effort to pick up my phone more often in recent months. I'm doing better... for the most part! Unfortunately, it seems that whenever I actually have my phone with me at a volume I can hear, I'm either driving (in which case I refuse to answer it, as that's one of my pet peeves) or I'm someplace where my phone really should be on silent (like cantoring at Church...) Ah, the ironies of life. So by now, most of my friends realize that when they call, it will be a big deal if I actually answer my phone. I get a lot of voicemails as a result. Sadly, I'll often go a couple days without even realizing that I even have these voicemails, and by the time I hear the message it's usually too late. This causes a great deal of guilt and anxiety on my part, and most likely makes it very frustrating for those trying to reach me. To anyone who has been in this position, I apologize! Like I said, I really am trying.
3) I am a klutz, in every sense of the word. I trip a lot. I run into things. I spill at inopportune times, and get injured in odd ways that seem absurd upon reflection. My cell phone really takes a beating, and it's covered with scratches from being dropped more times than I can count. No matter how hard I try to keep it safely protected within a purse or in my pocket, it always seems to find a way to fall out! I feel kind of bad for it.
So here I stand, about to depart for four months without this object of deep aggravation... and yet, I fear that I'll be lost without it. I've used it as an alarm clock every day for the past two years. It serves as my watch, and as a sense of security whenever I'm out somewhere alone. (In fact, I even used it one night to call my "boyfriend" when an odd boy from work felt compelled to wait until my shift got done and follow me to my car. That was kind of creepy...) Essentially, I feel safer with my cell phone, and in spite of all the various ways in which it provokes annoyance... I'm going to miss it. (sigh)
I probably shouldn't even get started on life without my laptop!! I'm probably more scared about that than anything else... not having my e-mail, my music, my photo screen saver, Minesweeper, etc. all at my fingertips?? Yikes. This trip is surely going to teach me how to make use of my time on the internet. It'll be liberating in a lot of ways as well. How did I become so dependent on technology? I think it's safe to say that the majority of my generation shares this dependency, and that's understandable given the way our society has evolved. But this trip is going to force me to actually take time to be still... to sit in a coffee shop and read without being interrupted by a cell phone. To go to bed earlier at night instead of sitting online perusing updated photo albums on facebook. To immerse myself in a the everyday realities of a culture I've only read about, and really getting to know the other girls in the program. It's rather intimidating to imagine life without two objects that I've come to rely on in so many ways... but there's life beyond my laptop. There's SO much out there to experience! It's terrifying and exhilirating all at once.
And as nervous and unprepared as I feel... I cannot wait to dive in.
Sorry that was such a long post! I didn't realize how much there was to talk about. I can't imagine how much I'll be writing from Italy... :-)
New Orleans
It's odd... I usually don't go much anywhere beyond home, school, and the highways connecting the two. But within a month I'll have traveled to southern Indiana for internship interviews, New Orleans for Band, and (in just under 2 weeks) Rome! There'll be plenty of time to discuss Rome, as my study there is the reason for this blog, so for this post, I'll focus on those first two trips, both which were wonderful.
Immediately after moving out of my room at school, Mom and I took off for a tiny town at the very bottom of Indiana. I'd applied for a summer internship earlier in the semester, and received an invitation for a weekend of interviews as a next step in the application process. The internship is a 6-week program in which interns both attend classes on liturgical formation/theological reflection, as well as lead high school groups during Liturgical Leadership Conferences. It fits perfectly with my goals for grad school and a career in ministry! I wish I could go into greater detail about the program, but Mom doesn't want me to put too much information about my whereabouts on the internet. If you're curious, just e-mail her (if she hasn't told you all about it already!) I had an amazing weekend--it felt more like a retreat than anything! It was refreshing to go to such a peaceful place right after the stress of finals week, and I met some incredible people. Mom enjoyed her time on her own as well, and we both left feeling refreshed and content. We had a pleasant ride home along the western border of Indiana (which is wayyy taller than I ever pictured it, and has some of the flattest farmland I've ever seen) and on up towards home. Mom even let me drive a stretch, which was exciting! I really enjoyed my time down there, and as it turned out, God wants me to head back down this summer. I've received a position there, and couldn't be more thrilled! So I'll get back from Rome in May, have three weeks to adjust back to life in America, then head down for six amazing weeks as an intern. I'm certainly one lucky gal.
Christmas with the family was WONDERFUL! I especially enjoyed Christmas dinner at Grandpa's--we have so many little ones running around that the night just flew by! I spent most of my time chasing after them, playing and taking pictures, and I loved every minute. It's amazing to come back after four months and see how much they've grown... I wish I could see them more often.
So just after we'd settled back down from the holiday rush, I found myself preparing for yet another trip--New Orleans! To back up a little bit, over the summer I decided to try out for the Marching Band, because I really missed Band after being in it for four years in high school. I thought I'd at least try, because if I didn't I knew I'd always look back with regret. I ended up making it, and have had one of the best experiences of my life! I'm one of 43 piccolos (yes, that's right, 43 of those high-pitched, ear-piercing instruments in one place... tuning is always painful, and usually impossible). Marching Band has opened up countless doors for me, and most importantly, it's introduced me to some of the most incredible, talented, friendly and fun people I know. The band is like one massive family in itself, and each of the sections is like a more tight-knit family with its own traditions and rivalries. For example, the faltos (marching french horns) and the saxophones are bitter enemies. The trombones are the goofy ones, the percussionists are usually off in their own little world, we piccolos have a dance for everything (the most popular of which is the shimmy, which every member takes part in, even our one male picc!), and the trumpets are the wild ones. We practice Monday through Thursday, and have an insane schedule with absolutely no free time on game weekends, so we all tend to grow pretty close! We see one another at our best and at our worst, and share in all the thrills, trials, moments of exhaustion and rushes of elation that Band brings. It's a huge time commitment, and sometimes a rollercoaster, but it's worth everything just to run out of that tunnel on the first game day. I'm proud to be part of such an amazing tradition.
This year was a rather exciting one for the Band, and I was even more thrilled to discover that we would get flown out to a Bowl game to end the year, at no personal expense! They flew us all out of the nearest airport, paid for our hotels and airfare, and even gave us a nice stipend for meals and spending money. December 30th arrived quicker than I expected, and I soon found myself all alone on a plane bound for Cincinnati to connect down to New Orleans. It was storming as we flew in, and we experienced steady turbulence for at least half an hour, but I had some friends on the plane with me, so it was fine. The only bad thing came after I stepped off the plane and into the humidity--I still can't get over how quickly my hair can go from smooth and straight to poofy and half wavy! It was not good. That first couple days brought a series of reunions, and I found myself marvelling once more at all the blessings God has given me through the people I've met in Band. I don't know how I'll last eight months without them! From the very beginning, I decided not to talk about leaving at all, if I could help it. My goal was to just enjoy every moment as it came, and not worry about the impending goodbyes.
So on New Year's Eve, they took us to our first practice at a school in the area most affected by Hurricane Katrina. We had to have a police escort in, and went through neighborhoods that were clearly devestated by the storms. The houses all had big "X's" spraypainted on, with little numbers and abbreviations indicating the numbers dead, missing, and alive. Some houses had boats and trailers in the yards, with "I'm back. Are you?" spraypainted on the sides. Many still look abandoned. Some houses still haven't even been searched. It's appalling to think that, a year and a half later, there's still so much that hasn't been cleaned up down there. The school whose practice field we used is actually being shut down entirely, because the damage is too bad. The school was built in the 1800's, and it's been really difficult for the community down there to have to see it close. It was inspiring, though, to feel the hope of all the people who gathered to watch us practice, and to remember all those who have been taking action and trying to move on. When we got off the buses, we were greeted by an enormous group of people, all cheering and waving at us as we walked over to the field. I was among the first off the bus, and it all seemed so surreal. We felt like celebrities! They had their video cameras and were filming and cheering us on and clapping for us... it was a really powerful moment. Even though practice was really muddy, I marched proudly that day. After, they made us jumbalaya (which I couldn't eat, being vegetarian) and tried to offer us 24 cases of beer (which our directors wouldn't allow, haha).
That night, after watching the Packers leap ahead of the Bears in the first half of the game, much to my delight and to the disappointment of the Bear's fans with me, we set out to enjoy a night on the town. Our hotel was on Canal Street in the French Quarter, just blocks from Bourbon Street and right up from Jackson Square. My friend Stephanie and I, along with some wonderful trumpet men, set out for Bourbon Street, arm in arm. (Side note: One of my best friends, Jessica, is a trumpet, and I know a lot of other trumpets thanks to her, so as the year progressed I found myself becoming an honorary trumpet in many ways. I spent most of my time in New Orleans with them, because they're really wonderful!). As we turned the corner, I immediately understood why Bourbon Street has the reputation that it holds. I've never seen so many bars and strip clubs on one street! The only place I even went into was a restaurant serving Po-Boy sandwiches... other than that, I stayed in my nice little groups wandering the crowded streets. The guys were very protective of us, and stayed by our sides, guiding us through the crazy crowds all night. I actually had a lot more fun than I'd originally anticipated! We ended up just dancing in the streets, soaking up the atmosphere and occasionally stopping to catch beads as people threw them off balconies. At midnight we were on Jackson Square for fireworks and a ball drop (which we accidentally missed), and I don't think I've ever been in such a densely-packed crowd. I could hardly breathe! It was quite a night.
The next couple days brought more practice during the daytime and more exploring at night. I swiftly discovered that it's impossible to be vegetarian and live in New Orleans, unless you love seafood. We went to Mulate's, one of the original Cajun restaurants, where everyone else tried alligator and frog legs and I paid $15 to eat white rice, bread, and vegetables, because I couldn't handle the seafood gumbo. (The little seacreatures still had FEELERS! And legs and things! I lost my appetite pretty fast.) But I survived on veggie subs and bagels. One of the nights, we went on a Haunted History tour around the French Quarter, which was fascinating. Our tour guide was named Mideon, and he looked as though he belonged on the show "Unsolved Mysteries." He had a long, leather trenchcoat, dark eyes, a deep, dramatic voice, and a sincere belief in the reality of the stories he was telling. I got a kick out of many of the stories, but was thoroughly disturbed by others. It was well worth the cost though! As the days went on, I felt as though I got to see a number of different sides of New Orleans, but there's still so much that city seems to be hiding. The French Quarter and the Riverwalk are beautiful, Bourbon Street is shady, everything past Saint Anne's street is just kind of creepy, but the music scene is amazing. I didn't know what to make of it, but I had a great time.
Gameday was... interesting. We spent over 14 hours in the Superdome, in which time we didn't see any sunlight at all, only to lose pretty badly that night. But we had fun with all our down time, and it was awesome to be part of the halftime show in there. That place is huge! After we finished our pre-game show, we went to line up by the tunnel, and I was the closest one to the wall. All the players came slowly walking towards the tunnel entrance, their eyes focused and intense, the spotlight highlighting the numbers on their chests just like an image from a movie. Number 10 was in the very front, black paint even and perfect under his eyes, and the rest followed, jumping up and down and flexing their fingers. I stood in awe, smiling with wide eyes at the scene before me. I seriously felt like I was watching a movie scene come to life! I could hear everything they were saying to one another, and see every fidgety movement. When they finally took off, it was quite a rush. The first half went really well, but the second was kind of awful. I don't want to think about it all that much. There's always next year!
It was hard to say goodbye. We didn't go to sleep at all, because by the time we got back to the hotel we only had a couple of hours before our shuttles were leaving for the airport. That last day is just a blur in my memory... a blur of faces, and farewells, and tears. But I had the time of my life, and I'll cherish those memories.
And the best part is, I know I'll have all those faces waiting for me when I come back home.
