Week 2

Rome as an Open Air Museum, Exhilarating and Oppressive

In the corner of Rome, near but not quite in sight of the Tiber River, there stands the magnificent and awe inspiring Mausoleum of Augustus. Built in the year 28 B.C., it is expected for such a building to sustain many damages over the years, but recently, a plan was developed and carried out to build a glass building around the Mausoleum so that it may be viewed for thousands of years to come without the effects of smog and dirt from the nearby road. The Italian community did not take too kindly to the modern architecture, however, especially since the view of the Mausoleum was open and free before the glass building was erected, and now there is a fee to enter the museum.
It is possible to see many ancient and historic sites in Rome, from the protested building around Augustus' Tomb, a sidewalk artist who assembles ordinary objects in capturing ways, the Protestant Cemetery, and even the Cat Colony which has existed inside the cemetery since the late 1800's. I have been so lucky as to see these places first hand, to experience the exhilaration, and at times the oppression which radiates from many of these sites.
Augustus' Tomb is one example of an oppression, just as the sidewalk artist across the street is a prime example of Open Air Museums and the exhilaration found in freedom of speech.
The Protestant Cemetery could be argued to be both exhilarating and oppressive, for originally, Protestants, or Non-Catholics in general, could not be buried within the city walls of Rome, Italy. This changed, however, around 1730, and since, poets, writers, artists, or just lovers of Roma, have been buried in what has been described as "charming" and "romantic". Full sculptures of angels can be found resting against tombstones, and the foliage makes the scene a symbol of life lived, rather than death and the memory of the dead. Even quotes from the stones symbolize how the people lived, though it was interesting to read how some of them passed.
Resting in the beds between tombstones, or scurrying between bushes, the Protestant Cemetery is also the home to a colony of cats, so well known as to have their own website and donation box! The cat colony has existed since the late 1800's, and while there is talk of removing them from the cemetery, I would have to argue that they add to the draw of the cemetery. While the smell is enough to make one cringe, it's interesting to watch how unfriendly these felines are, and how skilled they have become at dodging the cemetery's guests.
Traveling through these sites, seeing the things I have so far - I can only remind myself what a gift it is to be surrounded by both the museums we pay to enter, and the freedom of walking past excavated stones on the way to the grocery store, or the aqueducts seen from the train ride to Rome. I also tend to remind whoever I'm walking with, that when we step on certain stones on our way out of campus, we are stepping on pieces of the Appian Way. Rome is certainly, without doubt, an open-air museum within itself. Oppressive, at times, but exhilarating, always.

Week 1

Reflection on the Colosseum

Out of the heat and crowds, separate from chatter and confusion, the Colosseum or "Flavian Amphitheatre" stands proud and unafraid against the horizon of awed tourists and residents alike. I was one of many students that day, who breathed their first breath of fresh air after our journey underground, though my breath halted halfway, and my heart skidded to a stop. Finally, a piece of history within sight. Within reach, and what luck that my Professor started toward the building, directing us all past a line of traveler's who couldn't possibly be enjoying the sight of the Colosseum when distracted by the hustle of the streets, the chit-chat between themselves, or the headphones inserted into their ears. Nothing could distract me in this moment. Finally, I was here.
A passport is just a passport until it allows access to places only dreamed about. A plane is just another plane until the sensation of taking off into the air. A van is only transportation until it delivers to a long-awaited destination. A tour is just a lecture while walking...until the guide says: "Take a seat on one of these original columns," and then precedes to give me the history lesson of a lifetime. I've heard the stories before, I know the history, I thought I knew the Colosseum - but to stand in the midst of history, to touch and feel the cold stone that was once covered by marble, or to climb the stairs and feel the burn in my calves that others-- far before my ancestors-- felt as well...well, that's the Rome Experience.
Disappointment is there of course. After all, shoving aside years of history classes, TV programs, and Hollywood movies makes it difficult to imagine the Colosseum as anything but the ruins of a colossal building. Stairs and seating have withered away, marble stripped, statues and columns broken and repositioned elsewhere, moved and seemingly forgotten. Some tourists even push their garbage into the cracks and crevices that use to anchor marble slabs by iron rods. And yet, the arches welcome tourists and historians, inviting them to forget the skeleton of the ancient building, and instead see themselves as one of those enjoying a show in the heart of the city.
A book by the name of "The Italians" analyzes the different types of people who visit sites such as these, and what may or may not change in them upon seeing such sights. Luigi Barzini insists that there are certain things that people have in mind when they venture to new places, in particular, Italy. The food, the people, the sights, for example. By the standards of Barzini, I may be in Italy, enjoying the sights of the Colosseum and Roman forum, merely to complete my education. Or perhaps self-completion is my motive. Not merely for education's sake, but for my life in general. Will this be something to cross off my list of things to do before - or will this be one of many trips to this Ancient City? Is this a beginning or an end, in other words? Barzini may not have asked all of these questions in his book, but he certainly had me thinking them. Where do I fit, in the grand scheme of things. What is my purpose. It seems silly, perhaps, taken out of context. However, passing through the arches of the Colosseum, or later when I visited the Roman Forum and heard how Temples were converted and transformed into churches and senate buildings, I wondered what would change from my life in the next thousands of years. I wondered if there would be a memory of me, or if not, would there be someone like myself, years from now, who wondered about who may have passed the same roads which I once walked.
As far as what type of traveler I am, I am still deciding. Either for education's sake, or self-completion, I'm not quite sure. Perhaps both. I prefer to walk as one who lived here then, when ancient was present, and the ruins were new. Ignoring the tourists, forgetting the disrespect of history, I try to place myself then and there. I see the podium clearly, behind the olive and fig trees in the Roman Forum. I hear the echo of philosophy that wasn't quite paid much attention too even then. I respect the temples and the gods for what they mean to society and the people, and I am terrified of the change that comes with new rulers and buildings, floods and destruction. As I look at history in this way, I feel complete. I feel as if my education has been lifted to a new level, and the following years will expect more of me.
The Colosseum has been my beginning. Awe and disappointment, grief as well as joy. I am still learning, still seeing. I am not at my end, not quite yet.