After a long day of proctoring middle school chemistry exams as a substitute teacher and sitting in a chair all afternoon working on my new website, I was feeling a bit restless and decided to go for a walk and see how the Roman decorations were coming along this evening. The unofficial Christmas season started in Rome over a month ago when lights started popping up in shop windows and ornaments went on sale in markets. However, the season officially begins tomorrow with La Festa della Immacolata Concezione (Feast of the Immaculate Conception). The feast actually celebrates the immaculate conception not of Jesus, but of Mary, a fact which I only learned recently.
The city, well the Vatican, did not start my walk off well. Maybe I'm spoiled having grown up in Manhattan where the Christmas decorations, from Rockefeller center to the tree lighting on Park Avenue, are second to none, but you'd think the Vatican could scrounge up a decent looking tree. Not the case. The tree, which they put up next to the obelisk in St. Peter's square and the life-sized nativity scene that will be unveiled tomorrow, can only be described as scraggely (a favorite word of my mother's that she's been trying to convince me is a real word for going on two decades now). At first glance I tried to give it the benefit of the doubt, anything looks small in that square with Rome's second tallest obelisk lording over it and the massive facade looming behind. But even on closer inspection it was rough. The branches are so thin you can look right through the tree in places to the basilica facade behind. It doesn't have lights yet, but if they look anything like last year they won't be much of a help.
After the disappointing tree I walked down Mussolini's Via delle Conciliazione, built by plowing down the old neighborhood of the borgo. I stopped for a moment at the start of the street as there was an ambulance with a half dozen red cross personnel milling around it. I waited a second to see what was going on and saw a homeless man walk up to the group, shake hands all around, exchange pleasantries, and then one of the red cross workers reached into the ambulance and pulled out a plate of steaming hot pasta and a glass of wine and handed it to the man. I watched for a few more minutes as a handful more of homeless people walked up and received the same dinner. Italians do make sure everyone eats well. The homeless presence is certainly felt in Rome, but this was the first evidence I'd ever seen of direct help from the city. I asked an Italian friend awhile ago about homeless shelters and he didn't know of any, or of anything that the city did, although he said there are various church organizations that organize things in the colder months.
After witnessing this humane scene amidst the general chaos of Rome I continued down Mussolini's boulevard to Castel Sant'Angelo were I paused for another few minutes and watched the ice-skaters at the temporary rink that is set up each year along the river below the imposing walls of Rome's only castle. Although on a much smaller scale, and slightly warmer temperatures, the scene was similar to Wollman rink on any given night: not particularly good music blaring from poor speakers, parents watching from the sides as their youngest stumble around, middle and highschoolers using any opportunity for a little flirtatious play fighting. The one main difference was that not a single person on the rink had their own skates, all were the cheap, plastic, rental variety. I guess ice-hockey and figure skating haven't taken off that much over here.
From there I crossed the bridge in front of the castle, walking the gauntlet between Bernini's angels, and picked up Via dei Banchi Nuovi (street of the new banks) were an American ran past me wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, disconnected from the world around him by little white ear buds. In front of the palazzo where I took Italian classes over a year ago the street inexplicably changes name to Via del Governo Vecchio (street of the old government). After the name change the atmosphere changes as well, the small art studios and antique dealers are pushed out by a few thrift shops, wine bars, an Irish pub and the ever crowded pizzeria da Baffetto (where all the tourists wind up while the locals are around the corner at La Montecarlo).
Governo Vecchio ends at the southern tip of Piazza Navona where a Christmas market is set up every year and is currently in full swing. Half Christmas market and half country fair, it certainly doesn't carry the highest quality merchandise but it is entertaining for a few minutes and some people watching. You can do everything from ride a 19th century German carousel, shoot a bb-gun at balloons, knock over a pyramid of tin cans to win a teddy bear from your amore, get all the fixings for your presepe (nativity scene) - landscape pieces included - buy a new Connect Four set (Super 4 in Italian, with an extra long "u" sound), or buy a glass of vin brule (mulled wine) for two euros that nicely fights the chill in the air.
Having had enough with the crowd at Navona I wondered down to Campo de' Fiori, not yet in full night time debauch mode, cut across Piazza Farnese, a spot too serious for any Christmas decorations, and headed down Via di Monserrato (named after a town in Sardinia). I passed by Pierluigi and waved hello to everyone without stopping in and interrupting a busy night there, and continued down Monserrato, which changes into Via dei Banchi Vecchi (street of the old banks). The street was decorated very well, with simple white lights strung across it every thirty feet or so that changed to make it look like snow was falling. Simple, but perfect for someone who thinks only white lights should be used on a Christmas tree, and decorations in general. Banchi Vecchi led me back to where I had started, back over the river and through the woods, the Tiber and the umbrella pines behind the castle.
No comments:
Post a Comment