November 1st is a holiday in Rome, the day of All Saints, and most of the local stores and businesses are closed. The day is quiet and the air is crisp and cool. The afternoon shadows have already begun to lengthen because of the change of time, and as I lean over our terrazzo to view the scene, I can smell chestnuts roasting on the corners and a hint of woodsmoke. People are hurrying down the streets bundled in sweaters, coats and scarves. Fall has finally come to Rome. It is our last week here in the eternal city.
We resist the urge to see just one more church or museum, and instead take long walks through the neighborhoods, revisiting all of our favorite sights and the many small corners of the city that we have discovered in the past few months. We love the beauty of the light on the lovely pastel yellow, terracota and gray historic buildings, set against a blue sky that is like none other. We still feel the awe of entering the Pantheon, or sitting in front of the Palazzo Farnese at night, and the experience of catching our breath as we round the corner to some incredible view or new piece of architecture.
Every day we come across something new and fascinating that we haven't noticed before that continues to make the city alive and constantly engaging. A 16th century marble marker on the corner that notes an historic flood line, a small arched door that cuts through a building from the street with its own altar lit with votives, its light flickering on the solemn image of a early christian saint, a small piazza sitting in a timeless setting, ivy tumbling down its walls and one tiny table outside its corner cafe, and standing on the granite disc in the Piazza of St. Pietro that allows us, for just one moment, to see the columns perfectly aligned, making us wonder at the genius and brilliance of the architect, Bernini. Every day in this extraordinary city is truly extraordinary.
What is picturesque and charming for us is decidely wearing for the Romans. Rome is a 21st century city living in the shadows of a medieval-renaissance fabric miraculously intact, struggling everyday to meet the needs and demands of its modern citizens. Graffiti scars the landscape, while at the same time, there is a constant and ongoing cycle of restoration and preservation of historic monuments. The noise, traffic, pollution, and heat all affect daily life, as does the inconvienence of the random bus or taxi strike and inadequate transport to compensate. Added to it all is the inefficiency of a country that still tackles many tasks by hand, unsettling politics, and the changes in currency with the euro that has made daily life more dear.
Despite it all, the Romans continue on with the same indomitable spirit today as they have for over 2000 years. They have weathered plagues and sacks, dictators and emperors, the papacy, the Nazis and Berlusconi. Their view on life is cynical and jaundiced, and very much one day at a time. Nevertheless, they love their city and the drama and energy of everyday life. They work to stay connected with their families, clinging to the old ways of closing down business middays and Sundays, and taking their holidays in August, despite the demands and pressures of a global economy. This is a balance of daily life for Rome, the battle to modernize and yet still hold onto the beauty and tradition.
Looking back, what we have gained most is that sense of connection to something larger, a sense of history, a sense of place, that we haven't experienced before in America. Our friend Alan Epstein has said that everything that we know today, socially, culturally, politically, spiritually, has had its beginnings here, in this place,at one time or other. There is a sense of sadness, too, for all that has come before and is lost and forgotten, except for a fragment of ancient plaster, marker or tomb, its relief and detail worn smooth by time. We are just one small presence, moving through and becoming a tiny part of Rome's history at this one point in time.
We have become comfortable here, adjusting to the slower pace, taking the time this last week to indulge in long lunches, spending time with friends, drinking wine and coffee in the afternoon sun, and relishing in the roman tradition of chicciarari, the art of chit chat. We take the Luisi family our lemon tree from the terrazzo for their giardino at home, have a final dinner with the Epsteins, and give bottles of wine to our friends. Everyone exchanges hugs, and emails and addresses, and promises to keep in touch. Last night, Alessandro and the staff at Roscioli present us with a large, signed bottle of wine to take home as a remembrance. What a wonderful adventure we have had in Italy, in the opportunity to place ourselves in a new city, to look through the lens at another culture, and learn something more about ourselves. Time has gone too fast, but we have put down some shallow roots here in Roma. We will return.
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