Calcio: Senza Alcol Edition

Playing host to major football matches in Europe, Asia, and well, anywhere outside of the U.S., can be an anxiety inducing affair. There has been a noticeable influx of fans into the city of Rome this week, and with more soccer fans, there has historically been an increased chance of violent conflicts. Ever since the Heysel Stadium disaster in 1985, hosting cities' officials have taken precautions, like increasing police presence, in the hope that the site and its reputation remain in tact - no culture/football capital wants to be the place where more people lost their lives over hooliganism than Heysel.

As a means to deterring conflicts in Rome for the Champions' League final tonight, a ban on alcohol sales has been in effect since last night (Tuesday) and is supposed to remain in effect until early tomorrow morning (Thursday). Una and I were unaware of the ban until our students mentioned it in class this morning, but we were doubtful of its effectiveness, considering we had ordered wine at dinner last night and sat amidst plenty of folks at lunch today who partook in a fair share of beer to wash down midday pizzas.

We'll see how the ban continues to be enforced/ignored as we head out to watch the match in a bit. One rule that I wish they had put into place rather than the ban: all Man U fans must keep their shirts on in public throughout their stay in Rome, no matter how hot it gets. Think of all of the trauma that could have been prevented.

Image of Heysel Stadium from Channel4.

"Inside" Sunday/At Home with Il Duce

Alright, I admit it. I slept in today. In spite of the non-stop barking from our neighbor's dalmatian through the wee hours, I was whooped enough to stay in bed nearly until 11am. However, I was still able to make a day of it once I peeled off my sleeping mask (it's necessary sometimes, and I only have one because they gave it to me on Air France last year; no judging, please). I thought something relatively close to home and indoors would be the best choice on this HOT Sunday, so I decided on a visit to the Museo Nazionale del Palazzo di Venezia, just around the corner from our classrooms off Piazza Collegio Romano.Seeking a respite from the heat in Rome's museums can turn into an expensive strategy, so I don't think I'll be resorting to it all that frequently. Palazzo Venezia was actually worth it, but that's mainly due to the fact that the current temporary exhibit is La Mente di Leonardo, and all critical perspectives aside, it was pretty cool. The permanent exhibit includes wooden sculptures, which is interesting considering the overwhelming amounts of stone and marble pieces that we usually encounter in the museums, piazzas, and churches here.

One last note on Palazzo Venezia - Mussolini often stood on one of its balconies that faces the piazza of the same name (a large, busy traffic circle/roundabout) and delivered speeches to the massive crowds below. Check out this entry from Dr. Benson's Senses of Rhetoric blog, where he posted an illustrative video of Il Duce and the aforementioned crowds in Piazza Venezia.

Image found here.

A Weekend In/Around Rome

Although the weekends are often a time for residents of Rome to get the heck out, I was unconcerned with planning a trip out of town this weekend. Turns out, that wasn't such a bad move, as there is plenty I've yet to see, do, and stumble upon in the Eternal City.

Una, Matt, and I took an hour's train ride out of town to Nettuno for a beach day on Friday. If one can manage a trip to one of the beaches near Rome on a weekday, it is to her great advantage. There were only a sprinkling of beachgoers when we arrived (as opposed to the packed Saturdays and Sundays on the coast), which made for a quiet afternoon, and also meant we didn't have to navigate too many bronzed Romans in speedos - a difficult thing for many U.S. Americans to get used to. We didn't make it to the World War II cemetery at Nettuno, but it's on the 'to do' list for a potential future visit.

Today, I did some walking on the Aventine hill after strolling through the Protestant Cemetery in Testaccio with Una and Matt. On this trip to the Protestant cemetery, I was most taken with the different varieties of flowers scattered among the graves, and so it seemed to make sense to make it a day of cemeteries and flowers and visit the rose gardens (Roseto Comunale) on the Aventine, as well (the Roseto used to be the Jewish cemetery in Rome). In spite of the pre-summer heat, the roses were still in bloom and looking quite beautiful. I had to stop taking photos thanks to low battery, but I think you get the picture . . .

Calcio

Euro 2008 was a highlight of our stay in Rome last year, in spite of Azzurri's loss to Spain in the quarterfinals. Women's Euro 2009 is being held in Finland this year, but we don't have a TV, and it won't get underway until August, anyway. However, next week's Champions League final is in Rome - Barcelona v. Manchester United. I'm fairly certain one does not come by tickets for the final easily, so my hope is that we can squeeze in at one of Rome's Irish-themed pubs and watch the match over a pint. For those of you less interested in football and more interested in prettyboy footballers, come to the match for Ronaldo, but stay for the soccer.

Image taken from this site.

More Fun with Neorealism

We're moving right along in our Italian film course, and this week's offering was Ladri di Biciclette. De Sica's 1948 film tends to still ring a bell in U.S. popular culture contexts, but the title is frequently mistranslated as The Bicycle Thief, committing a perpetual injustice to the film and its audiences (once you've watched it, I'm willing to bet you'll feel the same way).

As I continue to think about female figures in Italian neorealist film, I am reminded that the women in this film are seemingly minor characters but clearly integral to the progress(?) of the story. Maria Ricci figures most prominently, making the significant decision to give up her dowry (sheets, for goodness sake) for her husband to get his bicycle out of hock in the first place. I'm also partial to the character of La Santona, "the one who sees," who both women and men frequent for advice and predictions about their futures. In a historical moment in which many folks are struggling to earn and maintain some kind of salary, La Santona's waiting room is packed with clients, eager to hand over whatever lire they can spare.

One last crucial note about the large cinematic shadow cast by Ladri di Biciclette - the epic narrative, Pee Wee's Big Adventure, is arguably a loose intrepretation of Antonio Ricci's quest to reclaim his bicycle. I thought I caught a hint of that brilliance watching Paul Reubens as a six-year-old.

Image from TrovaCinema/laRepubblica.

Home Is Where My Cot Is

Una has already taken the time to blog a bit about our living quarters, but I thought I might put my two cents in (you know, for good measure . . . oh, and because we can never say enough about, well, anything).

Our humble apartment's address is Via Labicana, about half a mile from the Colosseum, just around the corner from one of my favorite churches, San Giovanni in Laterano, and la Scala Sancta, and across the street from la Basilica di San Clemente. Not a bad location for a couple of grad students kickin' around Rome for a few weeks.

The living is relatively easy (thanks to the elevator), but it has become a bit of a chore to walk home from Piazza del Collegio Romano in the afternoon sun, navigating through crowds of tourists along Via dei Fori Imperiali and dodging those kids who want to scam you on some ticket that allows you to jump the line at the Colosseum (no thanks).

Once I get past all that, and I decide I'm going to be a trooper and walk up the 100+ stairs to the apartment, I'm pleased as punch to relax on my squeaky little bed before reviewing the undergraduates' weekly journals or washing the stink off in our only bathroom (that's for six people, by the way). Thank goodness for that thin mattress and those two old pillows. I sleep like a baby on it nearly every night, and I hesitate to lift my body out of it early each morning. That's how I know I'm at home in Rome.


Above left: view from my room; Right: the bed!

Monte Celio, Mother Theresa

Una and I went for a Sunday stroll to break up our reading and journaling in the apartment. Sundays are big park days for folks in Rome, so we thought we'd head up to nearby Villa Celimontana to see how jumping it is on a hot weekend day. The villa is located on one of Rome's seven hills, Monte Celio, and like so many places in this city, there's a lot of stuff to see aside from the park area.

We walked alongside an outside wall of the park on Via di San Paolo della Croce, and I continued down Clivo di Scauro to San Gregorio Magno (above). In the center of the piazza outside San Gregorio Magno sits a bust of Mother Theresa. The inscription on its base indicates the bust was a gift from India, although I'm having a difficult time researching the impetus for such a gift (certainly we can safely assume something Catholic is going on here).

So many of the busts one encounters in her explorations of Rome are ancient and seemingly meant to honor some masculine legacy of imperialism. Sure, there's the classic figure of the Virgin Mary who has her fair share of makeshift altars and honorary portraiture throughout the city, but Mother Theresa is posted, in one way or another, at several sites, as a significant contemporary female figure of Catholicism that Pope John Paul II put on the "fast track" to sainthood shortly after her death by nominating her for beatification. It's interesting to think about where the memory of Mother Theresa stands six years after beatification and four years after the death of Pope John Paul II.

Check out a couple of good articles for comparison published when she was beatified in 2003, from the BBC and everyone's favorite Atheist, Christopher Hitchens.