La Fede

I miss home...a lot.

Three more weeks here, and they seem like an eternity. Everyday, I wake up and dream that I could somehow lift this little town of Ascoli up by its roots and put it in between Shrewsbury and Durham, because I love it so much. But on the same token, I am feeling the strain with my lack of comforts. I feel torn, like home has been split in two. And I want to say that, when I see you all in three weeks, I will be jumping you in glee. I do not care who you are or how uncomfortable you are with it, you will be hugged...maybe even given the Italian double kiss (which they find baffling that we find awkward, but that is for another blog entry).

But despite my major case of the home sickness blues, the place continues teaching me lessons that I might have, otherwise, overlooked at home.

Last weekend, my friends Karah, Val, and I took the six am bus to Rome to see the Vatican City. We met our lovely tour guide, Jason, at the piazza, and we began our adventure. Now, I had already seen the outside of the vatican at night, which was stunning, but to see it in the day was another story. The City, despite the fact that it borders Rome, is not a member of Italy. It is it's own city state, guarded by the Swiss with its own official services and banking system. As you can imagine, the Pope (or the Papa, as they say here) would be so picky, but I suppose it is necessary when you are probbably one of the largest and most powerful organizations in the world. We learned about the massive, authentic Egyptian obelisk that sits in the center, and how the vatican claims that the cross at the top contains an actual piece of THE Cross (the legitimacy of that is up for debate, of course), and then we walked around the medieval walls that were used as an escape route for the pope in the event of an emergency. Then, without any further ado, we went inside the museums.

I have never been so overwhelmed in my life. In the matter of one hour, I am pretty sure I saw almost every piece of some of the more important artwork in their original states: Raphael's "The School of Athens," being my prime example. You would know it when you see it, but to suddenly stare at it and see the amount of detail and color and know that you are looking at something that forever altered art and philosphical history is mind blowing.

Then, we sat down in the courtyard of the pine cone (named that for the giant pinecone shape structure that was contained in it) and we were briefed on the Sistine Chapel. Now, the Sistine Chapel had been my number one location since I got here that I wanted to see, as I will not be able to see Florence on this visit. We were explained how a frescoe is made, and how Michealangelo wanted to be a sculptor before a painter, and how it took him a total of nine years to finish the cieling and the back altar wall...this was because he refused help from the others, in fear they would steal his ideas. And yet, everyday for nine years that man stood on scaffoldling, with his back bent back, as the lye and paint blinded him and warped his vision.

And then we went in.

The first thing you think is: THIS IS HUGE. The second thing you think of is: THIS IS HUGE. And the third thing you think of is: THIS WAS HANDPAINTED AND IT IS HUUGGEEE!

The work is, in my opinion, the most stunning work of painted art I have ever seen. Everything about the paintings that literally surronded every line of your vision speak one word: faith. These artists had faith, not only in themselves, but also in their work. Faith that it would be completed and immortalized. Faith...La Fede.

As I gaped at the chapel and tried to catch every last detail I could to memory (no photography allowed, also no talking), I left, thinking that I could not possibly be more overwhelmed. But then, we were directed into St. Peter's Basicalla.

Before we entered, we were told that scientists have more or less confirmed that St. Peter's bones are, indeed, burried under the sight of the church, and that the Piazza and layout of the church has the aerial view of a key hole, representing how St. Peter holds the key to heaven, and that only you have the power to have it unlock it.

As if that were not overwhelming enough, I entered the church and was suddenly struck: it was huge. It is, by square feet, the biggest church on planet earth, and is filled with the most important pieces of religious relics in the world. I heard a choir singing in latin, and a man performing Gregorian chant in a lovely tenor voice, and it enveloped every square inch of the sanctuary.

Then, I looked to my right: the Pieta laid there. Michaelangelo's premiere sculpture, depicting the Virgin cradling the now dead Jesus in her arms. I got as close as I could, and I just stared. Not only was the detail stunning, but the face of Mary...it was human. It was the first time I ever saw this story of Jesus in a human sense. As Karrah said: it was not touching solely for the scene, it was touching because it was about a mother losing her son.

For years, we have been told by our music directors that religious music is powerful regardless of what you believe because it demonstrates the faith these people, for centuries, have had to stand up for. What they had to do to gain their freedom, and how they chose to express their passion for a "greater being" regardless of which one it was, in words, music, and art. I now understand this...I think I finally get it. I have been lacking a sense of faith in my life, the way these artists had one.

Now, will I start going to church every day of my life? I do not know...but I think I feel the presence of something greater out there...for sure. I am determined, on my return, to figure out exactly how I want to channel it. But if you ever find yourself in this country, I urge you to take a church tour, or to attend a service. You might not understand it, but you will be entranced. If you are like me, you will feel the faith from these people. Its infectious.