Rome Program: 2013-2014 School Year

Jennifer Vosters

November 3, 2014

Arrivederci, Roma

On my last day in the city, I did what I’d avoided for the past several months of living there: I became a tourist again. Most of the SMC girls had left that morning for home or whatever their interim destinations were. The sun was shining and – as my friends were sick of hearing me say – there is nothing more beautiful than Rome when the sky is blue. A light seems to radiate from the buildings themselves, reflecting the sunshine with a kind of warmth that is so different from the cold, steely light of most modern cities. The organic stone of church domes and monuments against blue sky is breathtaking, and on this day – April 16 – Rome had never been lovelier. Even the garbage-clogged Tiber sparkled a pretty green as I set out across town to take some final photographs and visit one of the final archaeological sites on my to-do list: the Baths of Caracalla.

But first, I went to Saint Peter's Square one last time to mail some postcards and take some photos of the magnificent cupola outlined against the sky. I visited my favorite café to say goodbye to my friend Alam and order one last juice. I ate a final supplì (a fried rice ball filled with cheese and tomato sauce) and wandered through the Jewish Ghetto, the Forum Boarium, and the Circus Maximus – my old haunts – on the way to the Baths. I'd written a report on these Baths during the fall semester, and I was determined to actually see them before leaving. When I got there, I was thrilled to see just how spectacular they are: a giant, cavernous playground for history nerds, illumined by that same Roman sun bringing them so vividly to life I half-expected to stumble across ancient bathers in togas waving hello.

After a long, leisurely visit, I walked slowly through the Ancient City one last time, skirting the Palatine, swinging past the Colosseum and the Arch of Constantine, passing through the ancient Fora and in front of the Vittorio Emanuele monument in Piazza Venezia, and taking a few last-minute pictures of the victory temples in Largo Argentina – just as I had done on my first night. Then I joined the other two remaining Belles for a final Italian dinner, glass of wine, and scoop of gelato...and one last look at my beloved Pantheon, the building that had beckoned me home and was now sending me off a new person.

Early the next day, my cab driver took extra care to pass the Ancient City in the morning moonlight so I could see it one last time before I boarded a train and then a plane out of Italy.

For all my efforts, it is a hard place to describe and even harder to understand. Regarding Italy, my professor, who is himself Italian, once said, “It is an absurd country, in many respects.” And it is. The ever-famous Rick Steves said that Rome is “brutal and beautiful.” And it is. But my favorite quote describing Rome – because it is entirely true for me – is the following: “Rome will make you fall in love with itself slowly but forever.”

I came to Rome expecting what I'd spent the last six years learning and dreaming about in Latin class: a magical, mythical mix of ancient and modern; a land flowing with olive oil and tomato sauce. I came expecting to be delighted by all there was to learn and thrilled by the exoticism of a foreign country. I expected Italian to come effortlessly after a few weeks of “immersion.” I wasn't prepared for the noise, the traffic, the pollution, the crowds, the smoky air, the shattering bottles at two in the morning, the pushy salesmen, the blaring car horns...the fact that Rome was a city, a living, messy city with terrible Wi-Fi and abysmal mail service. I wasn't expecting to be pushed and pulled and challenged and transformed so quickly or in the ways that I was. In the beginning, it was scary, and loud, and uncomfortable, and unfamiliar, and totally overwhelming. In the beginning, I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle seven months of it.

But then, ever so slowly, my expectations and preconceptions about Rome were peeled away, and I was able to see the city for what it was. I stopped waiting for something else to arrive and started noticing and accepting and enjoying what was around me. And when I was able to do that, I began to fall in love with it. Not just the city itself, but the country as a whole, and its people. It was a love story that was bound to happen, just not the way I expected.

So, in addition to all that I continue to learn even months later, honesty is one of the major lessons I took from La CittàEterna. I had to learn to be honest with myself and abandon what I'd expected to be true for what actually was true. I had to learn to accept what was present instead of vaguely chasing what I thought would or should be. And in exchange, I found something so much deeper, so much more meaningful, and so much more beautiful in Rome – and maybe even within myself as well – than I would have had it been what I'd expected. I found a world of wonderful people, beautiful vistas, delicious flavors, vibrant colors, passionate songs, and thrilling stories. Rome was where I came alive in a brand new way.

As I said through tears in my final Italian class, Roma era ilmiosogno. Rome was my dream. Now it is a home as well, a friend that engaged and thrilled me with its adventures and comforted me during times of loneliness and loss. It is a place I had to learn to love, in spite of its disastrous government, disappointing public transport, and life-threatening traffic. I made memories and progress and friends there: Signor Bruno and Signora Patrizia, who looked out for us; Patrizio, who teased us; Stefano, who held my hand when my grandma died; Aldo, who'd talk to us for hours; all of my professors, who taught us about things that mattered.They made Rome home. And that will always mean the world to me.

I don't know when I will return to Rome, but I know now that I have to. It has too much of my heart for me to stay away, and I'm sure anyone who's spent any prolonged amount of time there can understand. And I am so grateful for the time I spent there, the lessons I learned, the people I met. I'm grateful for everyone who made this dream come true for me, at home and abroad.

So in the words of Dean Martin:Arrivederci, Roma. Grazie per tutto, e ci vediamo...presto.