The Eternal City
Soon after turning 18 was when I would take my first independent trip: Rome. Independent, that is, meaning without my parents. It was a high school humanities and art trip that I had waited years to take until senior summer finally came around. Those two weeks in Rome were so full of rich history, culture, and thin sliced pizza. Two years of Latin, an ancient medieval history class, and humanities class later did Rome become real for me. I walked the cobblestoned walkways, marveled at St. Peter's Basilica in the blistering heat, stood in the archways at the Colosseum. These things and places I read about took on weight and I walked the ground where so much history happened.
We stayed in Travestere, Rome, a quaint little neighborhood with friendly vendors selling gelato and crepes. There was a square at the edge of the neighborhood where locals would play music in the late hours of the night. A few friends and I on our last night there brought our gelato to the square steps and listened. My friend Sophia got up and sang a song even, and my friend Yuefeng did as well, asking to borrow one of the locals' guitars to do so. It was a magnificent blending of cultures with something we all know and love no matter where we are: music. It was the only way I knew how to end a busy but enriching two weeks.
Two weeks might sound like a long time, but it really isn't. It was tiring, though. Wake up calls were at 7 am and we would walk on foot all day, exploring the many churches in Rome and sights like the Roman Forum or Vatican City.
We also explored Piazza Navona (pictured above), the Pantheon, St. Peter's Square, sitting down to sketch what we saw at each place. Locals would gather around and watch us, wondering what a group of kids were doing just sitting down in the extreme heat and sketching or painting with watercolors. We were there to see them in their culture, and yet, they found something fascinating in ours.
