Roaming Roman Thoughts

We spent two and a half days in Rome, but tried to relax while fitting in all the “must see” attractions. Our Roman host (in Geneva) quizzed us on the sights we saw and apparently we made good choices and visited all the things he deems worthwhile. I stood in awe of the vast coliseum, hurt my neck trying to take in Michael Angelo’s masterpiece in the Sistine Chapel, and wandered the extensive Roman Forum.

We also went on a tour from a man who’s voice constantly reminded me of “You would say that’s a pretty sweet world, right?” and who used the phrase “MOST important” about twice per monument. We got to people watch in a few other places as well. One woman was spotted chucking raw meat unto the road below a bridge, then abandoning the remainder of the pile, potentially when she saw us watching. Another woman sweeping the street near the train station noticed a winter coat. After contemplating and nudging it for a bit, she thrust it into the street, as if it were a solution. Lastly, I encountered a gentleman who first asked to take a picture with me on his camera. This was weird, but since I couldn’t figure out any immediate danger, I obliged. Next, he asked where I was from (normal), and insisted that I was rich (not normal). After that, he told me that he likes America and would like to go there (normal) and asked if it would be possible for him to go back to America with me (not normal and our cue to flee). 

 On the second evening, we chose to walk to the Trevi Fountain to see it lit up. As anticipated, it was both gorgeous and packed full of people. It didn’t take long for me to stop focusing on the beauty of the sculpture and rather to see the beauty of the others visiting it.

It struck me that every person visiting has an expectation of the picture they want to take. But the images I witnessed as they planned were far sweeter than what can be captured on film. A kind husband volunteering his head as a tripod, a young boy closing his eyes tight to think of a wish before appeasing his parents by tossing his coin, an elderly couple smiling sheepishly as they wait for the shutter, a son pulling his mom into the frame of a picture with him, little girls who couldn’t care less about the fountain because there is a cone of gelato in their hands and it seems way more important, an infant with no idea that her mom intends for her to throw the disk of metal from between her fingers. For the first time, in a city known for monumental sights, I stopped looking at the attractions.