This morning started off with me being up early, as often happens, and consequently I was able to enjoy some personal time with two of the girls we were staying with. Cristina and Gina. A couple of napolitana bellas. I heart them. Gina is quite the little baker and very into Napoli tradition and culture so she and her mom provided breakfast this morning. I had my choice of a couple different bread/cake type items with absolutely divine jam and fruit tea that Cristina helped me find among the million other teas that I’m not incline to partake of. From there we just sat in our pajamas and like the girls we are chatted, giggled, and ruptured into laughed ever chance we got at even the smallest things as the discussion went from Italia to boys to food to friends to family to more food to work and finally Napoli, the heartland of Italia. We spent a good 30+ minutes with me, pink bible (PB) open and scribbling, and them playfully arguing (or if any of you have ever met a Napolitano you can imagine the banter-type dialogue I’m talking about) about the best things to do in Napoli. The easiest thing for them to agree on was pizza, but that was kind of a given. They settled on, “if you only do one thing while you’re in Napoli you must go to the island of Capri.” Well then, that is what we must do! It was recorded in the PB and that was that. I hope all Napolitanos are like them.
Afterwards, I spent a couple hours googling, mapping, and scheduling out our day before everyone woke up so as to maximize our exploration time in Roma. And BTW (by the way), when I say “before everyone” else I mean, I was up around like 8am and probably didn’t have anyone emerge from their rooms to return to the land of the living till around 11am at the soonest. I didn’t have a map of Roma so I did the next best thing; I just sketched one out in my ever trusty PB. I dotted out all the places to see, both from my memory of my last trip and those recommended to me. Then I added metro stops and street names. It was going to be a glorious day! I love my life!
No long after we headed out, I learned that it was a National Holiday: Women’s Day!!! Ummm, so I’m from California, United States of America. I am a woman with more rights and freedoms than my sisters in most other countries. We celebrate groundhogs seeing their shadows, flags, birthdays of president’s long gone (and not even on their actual birthdays for that matter), people dressed in large bunny rabbit costumes hiding eggs in the lawn (or the snow depending on where you’re from), fat men in great big red velvet suits with white “fur” cuffs, pirates, secretaries, various types of cancers and diseases, graduations from kindergarten, and pets, to name a few. Why, in this country so obsessed with any excuse to declare a national holiday have we not caught up to the Italians in declaring a day, that really lasts a week and includes time off, concerts, parades, shopping discounts, really great food (like you can find really not great food anywhere in Italy), and my personal favorite, FLOWERS FOR ALL—EVERYWHERE!! and all in celebration of what? None other than the vehicle of creating life and providing the better half of beauty to all around: WOMEN.
I would say, “those of you close to me know that I could go on and on about that topic,” but then I think, I don’t even know how close to me you’d have to be to know about my slight obsession with the wonder of woman and the beautiful femininity of her body, her potential for elegance and grace that it more powerful than the strongest man, and her crucial, both capstone and cornerstone, role in society, religion, family, and life in general. I will refrain. J
The Bone Church
I felt comfortable with the layout of Roma by then I lead us on a walking tour. It was such a beautiful sunny, bright blue, birds dancing through sky, sing as you go day! Perfect is the only word. We headed off to some spots we’d been the other night so Janise could take some desired daytime pictures (Roman Forum, Campidoglio, Trevi Fountain, Piazza Venezia, etc.) and then off to Piazza Barberini. I had some pretty specific directions given to me and for the most part I just followed those. Sometimes it made us laugh how accurate they were…
“…get off the metro at Piazza del Popolo, and walk across the piazza and between the twin churches down Via del Corso until you intersect their version of Rodeo drive (via dei condotti). From there you turn left and walk straight up the street to the Spanish Steps and all the most high end Italian fashion stores are along there.”
Or
“The best price on ties for your brothers are at Piazza Barberini (which is the stop for the Trevi fountain). On the north side of the piazza by Via della purificazione is the tie shop, and then if you go north up the street running along the east side of the piazza, via vittorio Veneto, there used to be a lamborghini shop there and a church with the walls and chandeliers and everything made out of Human bones. (Santa Maria Della Concezione) And then to get to the Trevi fountain you need to walk down Via del Tritone a little ways and then the fountain is off a street to the left. I think there are either signs or you could ask someone. I’m pretty sure you need to go at least down to the burger king before you turn left...”
With directions like this there was no way I was getting lost; and they were always spot on.
And today was the day that Janise and I were going to finally know what we’d been wondering since its recommendation, “The Bone Church? Like a church made out of human bone? What does that even mean?”
Well, let me tell you. Yuck!! We walked up the stairs to the little entrance and were straightway yelled at by the reception lady who scolded us over the top of the large group of people crowding her desk.
“Excuse me (in like 3 languages)! There is a required donation of 1 euro! And I have to explain everything to you!”
O-k. We went back to her desk a little red cheeked for her life stopping explanation and for our obligatory donation. She basically just said how old the church was, how many people had visited it, and how this was a sacred place for worship and not to take pictures. Wow. Thanks for that. I can’t imagine how unfulfilling my experience would have been had I not stopped and listened to you. And I’d never have guessed about the whole picture taking rule. I was wondering what those huge signs in every doorway with a camera in a circle with a line through the middle meant. Thank you so much ma’am.
The church was very interesting, to say the least. It was a little hallway with three rooms. It was very cave like. Like the phrase “dark and dank” immediately come to mind. And the décor, awe…magnifico! The walls were cleverly adorned with the most captivating arrangement of human bones, in the most elaborate designs I’ve ever seen (and hope to see). Chandeliers, significantly sized wall hangings, light fixtures, tables, chairs, frames. They even had these really creative arrangements that formed little beds and shelves for the monks to sit, stand, and lay on. There were monks there you ask? Oh yes, there were. And now I’m sure, like myself, you’re wondering why. Well, I would like to share with you the answer to that question but they weren’t very talkative. It may be because of the smell, or the sacred nature of this holy location. Maybe it was because their little brown friar Tuck outfits were stifling. Who knows, but I’m gonna go with the whole death factor. ??? THE MONKS WERE DEAD! Yes! No! I’m not lying! As if the whole like fingers, toes, vertebrae, ribcage thing hanging in my face and smelling oh so wonderfully wasn’t enough; dead people! Like really? Ya liked ‘em so much you decided to decorate with them!? Come on people! Let ‘em go! I don’t know if anyone’s told them or not yet, but just cus you hang on to their bodies and wardrobe (or in this case and time, skeletons) and place them in lifelike positions doesn’t mean people are going to be fooled and think this is a normally functioning establishment and start paying tithes and attending Sunday services! Ah!!! I guess having once in my life also been an Egyptian history and archaeology buff you’d think I wouldn’t really think decorating with human remains is strange but, I don’t know, these just weren’t so…mmmmm…no words…I just have no words…Once we got to the last room and saw the skeletons of children nailed to the wall as like a center piece in playful positions, “Over it.” was far from a sufficient description for how we felt and “run away run away” was definitely the method of departure. Hey, we tired. We went in with an open mind and we left with the heebie-jeebies.
And for the record, someone should really tell that lady that “a require donation” is called “admission”.
Just around the corner and down the street from the bone church was the cutest little tie shop a girl could ever visit. It was described as “the best ties in Rome” at a good price so Janise and I decided this was a perfect light weight, classy option for the men in our lives (if you guys read this before we get home sorry to kill the surprise).
We walked in, and when I say walked in what I really mean is, “we took a step and a half in” and were cheerfully greeted by this adorable little man. His name is Francesco and he’s born and raised in Roma. I picked pretty quickly, being a person that this type of decision comes relatively easily for being very aware of the style and preference of the men in my life. Janise needed “a little” more time and thought. No problem and warmly welcomed. It gave me plenty of time to learn the whole life story of my new friend, his little shop, and eventually some stories about missionaries and others that have come through his shop. In fact! When we were talking about missionaries I brought up Landon and he totally knew who he was! Haha! Of course he did. He described him physically, etc. and we knew we were talking about the same Anziano Hansen. He was sooo excited! He asked all kinds of questions about him and asked me to tell him to make sure and stop by next time he’s in town. Then he asked if he could write him a note. So I pulled out the pink bible and he proceeded to scribble in English. He had me check to make sure it made sense, threw a little Italian flag sticker on it, we took a picture, and exited with his very sincere invitation to stay with him anytime we’re in Roma in the future…as long as we don’t drink (alcohol that is…and yes there’s a story behind that). He gave me his phone number and re-emphasized that next time we need to come with Landon and stay with he and his family in their home and how he’ll take care of us, we embraced, kissed and were off. J So cute!
From there we hoped on the metro to visit Castel Sant-angelo (you know the fort for protecting the Pope that’s in the movie Angels and Demons), walked around near the Vatican, through a bit of Trastevere, and back toward a gorgeous park called Villa Borghese and then it was time to meet up for dinner.
Ok, so as I said before we were invited for dinner by a couple from the Roma 1st ward and that was for tonight. I don’t even know how to begin to tell you about this marvelous experience. Janise and I had rushed back to meet Babak, who was very aware of the place, time, and arrangement, but he said he wasn’t going to be able to meet us for at least an hour. Well, I had listened intently-ish while Marilena was telling him the directions (in Italian) and so I told him we’d just meet him there. Janise looked nervous but I knew we’d be fine.
We get off at her station and come above ground. To my left the Vatican—I knew she lived a couple blocks from there. Straight ahead was the direction the metro would continue if we were to go toward church—consequently, I figure the options of “right” and “behind me” weren’t right because I knew she was between the church and stazione Ottaviano. I started left with a prayer in my heart. After about 10 steps I knew this wasn’t right. About face! And we headed in the direction of church. I had her address in the PB and her number as well as Megan’s (who we were now 30 minutes late meeting) so I wasn’t too concerned. I just figured I’d give it my best shot before I up and call 911. We walked a block or so and I asked a news stand guy if he knew of the street.
“No.”
Ok. I felt like we were in the vicinity and I knew it would be a street across to my right so I suggested we cross the street. We waited as cars and scooters zoomed by and suddenly my empty stare focused and found that I standing directly across the street from my new friend. Megan! Haha! Turns out she had just had the feeling that she should cross the street too and that found us directly across the insane traffic from each other. We exchanged hollered greetings and all started laughing with relief, excitement, and wonder. Heavenly Father loves us!! Yeah yeah! Turns out, had we gone one more block down I would have easily been able to follow the directions as I’d remembered them from the previous afternoon.
We were more than warmly greeted by Marilena with a million hugs and kisses, pulling our jackets off us, tossing our stuff on the couch, shuffling us in and out of the kitchen and then to the living room, sitting us down, standing us up, talking a million miles per hour, asking a billion questions (all in Italian of course, knowing we don’t speak, but that seemed of no consequence), all the while shouting commands about dinner to Fabrizio, and we all just laughed through it all. The smell of pasta was thick in the air and music was playing loudly—she was youtubeing all kinds of folk music originating from her beloved hometown in southern Italy, Calabria. Fabrizio, originally the one at the door but shoved out of the way by his lovely Marilena in her excitement, stood by with a gentle grin and soft happy eyes and just waited for his turn to greet us between commands about how he was doing dinner wrong. J Oh how I love them. (I must disclaim that if she’s sounding mean that’s far from the truth…she’s just a real chef and he loves her for it…we all do)
She was really in a fantastic mood (which I learned was really just how she always is) and just kept youtubing more and more songs. They were beautiful and some really fun and next thing I know she’s dancing and singing around the living room telling us about how this is the traditional dance of Calabria. You all know it didn’t take much coaxing for her to get me onto my feet and follow her in this elegant dance. Megan joined seconds later and eventually Janise as well. Next thing you know she’s turned on some really great fast song, turned it up full blast, and we’re dancing around the living room, laughing, singing, swaying from side to side with scarves in our hands now, with Marilena motioning and correcting us if when weren’t quite seductive enough, and she then starts a little good old fashioned “swing your partner round and round!!!” Incredible! Hysterical! Don’t even know how to begin to truly describe this melodious chaos! And yes, we were goin’ so strong the ENTIRE LIVING WAS SHAKING, like the TV was bouncing on its stand and almost fell off but I caught it. Hahahaha…we wondered about the neighbors but the concern only lasted about 10 seconds and was shrugged off by harder and louder laughter, singing, and bouncy dancing. Ok, who told her about me before I got there??? Pretty sure that HAD to be a set up. It was too good to be true!!
Fabrizio tried to sneak in one time to put something on the table and he didn’t get two steps into the living room before she fully and quite literally attacked him…like basically jumped on him trying to pull him in to join us. He definitely had to use ALL his bodily strength to wrench himself out of her grasp and into the safety of the kitchen cus seriously she’s a strong little Italian mama.
Babak wasn’t strong enough to withstand. The moment he showed up she had in my the midst of it all (after giving him a good scare about how she was sooooo mad at him because she didn’t know he was really coming and then for being late…hahaha she’s cracks me up…I learned she’s totally obsessed with playing practicle jokes and boy did we ALL have fun with that one)…we could have danced the night away at the rate we were going but sadly after about an hour dinner was calling…though I can’t really describe it as “sadly” because the delicacies of Marilena’s kitchen are far from sad…
Dinner was fabulous, like three heaping huge course: bruschetta…so so so good! Like I’m obsessed! I’ve gotta get back into the habit of making that at home; a pasta with a bacon-tomato sauce; and something described to me as their version of cordon bleu, basically chicken tenders wrapped (with a string and toothpick…which you had to be careful of because they made it to our plans fully in tact and with no warning) around a thanksgiving stuffing-like mixture which included some veggies and cheese and sauce, pretty good. Oh and p.s. I’ve decided I really need to start like stuffing my shirts or something before I attend wonderful little celebrations like these because I’m pretty sure I ALWAYS get a bigger “mountain” (in the words of Marilena) than ANYONE ELSE at the table…“No, no, no you’re so skinny (putting up their little pinky finger…apparently that means skinny) you need more!” and then, I’m always the one that gets succored into helping “finish off the last tiny little bit…”, which means they just pick up the serving dish and slide the reminds onto my dish mostly without asking or my consent or after much pleading in the case of my well-past-stuffedness. This was of course the case tonight. Although I did have a helper. Megan was my angel tonight because at least she could take half…she’s used to it by now. Babak couldn’t even help. Pansy. In fact, he made the comment that in his almost two years now living in Italy this was the first time he’s not been able to even finish his plate. So, yeah, you could say that I was little beyond stuffed by the end of the evening. But oh it was soooo worth it.
After dinner, Marilena, who held my hand or arm or grasped my leg nearly the entire evening as she sat next to me, shared a little more about her beloved Calabria, she put on a little play for us as she reenacted an encounter she had with an old friend in the airport that had us all peeing our pants and barely able to stay seated, and then—her conversion story. Oh how I wish I could have just recorded that part of my European adventure for I think I will forever hold it dear in my heart. I have heard and been touched by a lot of conversion stories in my life but this was one of those that just pierces you right through because of the depth of conviction and resounding presence of the spirit gently yet densely filling the spaces between walls, people, and hearts sitting in reverence pensively listening. I know it was all in Italian, but I think I was kinda blessed with the gift of tongues against for those moments because we both just sat there fully understanding eachother and at some points she just stared at me, our eyes were locked as she spoke of the process and people to whom she feels she owes her life. I wish you all could have been there to feel it. We both teared up towards the end as she spoke of the one to whom she contributes the softening of her heart and real journey’s start. Man, I hope that even one of the beautiful people I helped bring into the light of the Lord Jesus Christ can still talk about me in that way. It really caused me to reflect on so many things. One in particular being a scripture in a book of scripture we have called the Doctrine & Covenants. It’s in section 18 verse 15. It reads:
“And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!”
Oh the joy of this wonderful sister’s sweet testimony. I am so grateful for that experience. I need to get in stronger, more consistent contact with my friends, members, and converts from my mission.
We ended the evening with a little skype action, adding each other on skype, exchanging other contact details, her threatening us with her expectation that we will speak Italian with her by two months from now and she’s gonna hold us to it (she like wrote down the dates and everything, like got out the calendar), and a little more music over a bowl of Italian candies.
Babak treated us to a taxi home because we were all too cold and stuffed to walk, or quite honestly think straight.
P.S. Just a cool thing that we learned on this trip that I thought I’d pass on. Did you know that through gmail chat you can call anyone on any phone in the United States and Canada for FREE for the whole year of 2011? Well, it’s true. Tried and tested. Pass it on. We each called home. It was great! I love the surprise in people’s voices when they hear us on the other end of the line. It just tickles me. If I had all your numbers with me I probably would have called a number of you just for kicks and giggles.
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