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3 months in Rome
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In this week, there was an air of unsteady calm in Rome. Some paura -- fear. Yet, a real sense of the strongly-held Italian belief in destino | |
| My third week in Rome had a certain unrealness to it. For me and my American friends, there was an attempt at normalcy, but definitely some survivors' guilt. I asked myself so many times: is it all right to find pleasure in life again? As for Rome, there were rumors one day of a bomb: first, I heard, at the Vatican walls. Then, the Palace of Justice. Both places, by the way, within short walking distance from where I'm living. Neither rumor was true. I continued to get my news in Italian--which could get tricky. Per esempio, I am pretty sure I read that after the second plane struck, a UFO was spotted heading towards the towers. “Is this true,” I asked my barrista, who speaks no English. He didn't know. However, he had managed to teach me what each sweet pastry in his coffee bar is called. |
The flow of e-mails from America slowed considerably. I suspected fatigue. I know that folks in the U.S. can not get away from what has happened. Some of MY guilt in Rome--was that I can. I got a letter from a Manhattan friend that week. She echoed what I had heard from everyone. There is a lot of fear, a little suspicion, and a constant reminder of what has happened--with battleships in the river and military choppers overhead. On Saturday night, I was watching news with my padrona a casa, Gina, and they played a clip of Celine Dion, singing God Bless America. “What is that,” she asked. Through my tears, I tried to describe it with my sparse Italian vocabulary. “Una cantata del mio paese”--A Song of my Country.
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Q - Why are there so many references in school text of BEFORE and AFTER the war? A - Because in Italy, its impact was so profound, it is a line of demarcation. Q&A ARCHIVES  A FIELD TRIP |