The Capitoline Museum and a birthday at Campo de Fiori
The archaeological guidebook makes the Capitoline Museum look like the best museum in Rome. The most famous statues and busts from the time of the Caesars are inside, and even a few from the period of the Rebublic. Pretty much any Roman history textbook has pictures from the Capitoline. In fact, many of the exhibits are immediately recognizable from my undergraduate Roman history class.
The massive head, feet, and hands of Constantine are the first exhibit. Together with the rest of the missing body fragments, they once made a huge statue to the caesar who converted the Roman world to Christianity. The statue, despite being Christian in origin, still has classical elements that personify Constantine as god-like, a tradition in art that would soon pass.
The she-wolf statue is from around 400 BC, surprisingly old for such a well-preserved statue. She-wolf, with a modern addition of Romulus and Remus, has come to symbolize the city as the official insignia.
The Philosopher's Room, made to represent ceasar Marcus Aurelius' love for philosophy, has busts of Homer, Socrates, and, my favorite, Pythagoras. Surprisingly, the statues were made to look like their subjects. This is unusual for classical busts because Romans often tried to capture their personality traits rather than actual appearance. Thus they would usually be portrayed as a classical hero or god, i.e. Hercules.
My feet are aching terribly from hours of standing and I'm hungry. After a quick dinner, it's time to return to the hostel. Some new friends there have promised a celebration for my 24th birthday. The plan is to buy some cheap wine (about 3 euro bottles, yuck) and meet everyone at the most popular hang-out piazza in Rome, Campo de Fiori.
Campo de Fiori, literally "field of flowers" in Italian, is an open space that is larger than a football field and surrounded by bars and dance clubs. The center has an imposing statue of a Catholic Monk, always looking down disparagingly at the drunkenness below. Nevertheless, the relative calm of the place at night amazes me. Nobody shouts, fights, and hardly anyone stumbles around drunk. I couldn't imagine a place like this in America, where people drink to excess regularly. It would be chaos, no?
The night proves an excellent birthday -- I've never heard "Happy Birthday" sung in so many languages, Italian, Spanish, French, etc.
Our colorful group consists of three Mexicans, Marcello, Annabelle, and another guy, two Swedes, three Americans, a French girl named Emmanuelle, and a Dutch guy named William. Obviously some names are missing, but the night is a bit hazy anyway.
Marcello (next to me in the picture above) is a regular around the youth hostel. He's been here for over three months, and, before that, all over Europe for two years. He saved enough money for the long journey by working two years as a waiter in Monterey, Mexico. Although it might seem like a vacation, Marcello now knows French, Italian, English, and of course Spanish. He's extremely personable, always around the side door hang out, meeting new people and socializing.
Annabelle (the 5th person to my right) is the other Mexican regular around the hostel, possibly even more social than Marcello. She has been busy taking language classes at the University of Rome. Recently she found an apartment nearby the hostel. So, I assume she's in Rome to stay. Annabelle has a passion for language that I've never encountered. She speaks every major European language, and, for fun, picked up some Hindu from Internet tutorials!
One of the two Swedish guys is on the far right in the photo; his friend is off somewhere else. The travel companions are probably the most drunk in the whole piazza, mostly from vodka they chugged earlier. Patrick, the one missing from the photo, speaks broken but understandable English. His taste in American movies is similar to mine, even down to individual scenes and lines. It's amazing how American culture permeates all around Europe.
Patrick likes to stress the importance of milk in Sweden. Apparently, they drink it like water, but only fresh; no pasteurization.
William is missing from the picture. But I spend the most time talking with him. Like my brother, his political science major preoccupies him with U.S. foreign policy and current world events. He is highly critical of the U.S. government, as are most Europeans. He still keeps an open mind, a very cool individual indeed.
The massive head, feet, and hands of Constantine are the first exhibit. Together with the rest of the missing body fragments, they once made a huge statue to the caesar who converted the Roman world to Christianity. The statue, despite being Christian in origin, still has classical elements that personify Constantine as god-like, a tradition in art that would soon pass.
The she-wolf statue is from around 400 BC, surprisingly old for such a well-preserved statue. She-wolf, with a modern addition of Romulus and Remus, has come to symbolize the city as the official insignia.
The Philosopher's Room, made to represent ceasar Marcus Aurelius' love for philosophy, has busts of Homer, Socrates, and, my favorite, Pythagoras. Surprisingly, the statues were made to look like their subjects. This is unusual for classical busts because Romans often tried to capture their personality traits rather than actual appearance. Thus they would usually be portrayed as a classical hero or god, i.e. Hercules.
My feet are aching terribly from hours of standing and I'm hungry. After a quick dinner, it's time to return to the hostel. Some new friends there have promised a celebration for my 24th birthday. The plan is to buy some cheap wine (about 3 euro bottles, yuck) and meet everyone at the most popular hang-out piazza in Rome, Campo de Fiori.
Campo de Fiori, literally "field of flowers" in Italian, is an open space that is larger than a football field and surrounded by bars and dance clubs. The center has an imposing statue of a Catholic Monk, always looking down disparagingly at the drunkenness below. Nevertheless, the relative calm of the place at night amazes me. Nobody shouts, fights, and hardly anyone stumbles around drunk. I couldn't imagine a place like this in America, where people drink to excess regularly. It would be chaos, no?
The night proves an excellent birthday -- I've never heard "Happy Birthday" sung in so many languages, Italian, Spanish, French, etc.
Our colorful group consists of three Mexicans, Marcello, Annabelle, and another guy, two Swedes, three Americans, a French girl named Emmanuelle, and a Dutch guy named William. Obviously some names are missing, but the night is a bit hazy anyway.
Marcello (next to me in the picture above) is a regular around the youth hostel. He's been here for over three months, and, before that, all over Europe for two years. He saved enough money for the long journey by working two years as a waiter in Monterey, Mexico. Although it might seem like a vacation, Marcello now knows French, Italian, English, and of course Spanish. He's extremely personable, always around the side door hang out, meeting new people and socializing.
Annabelle (the 5th person to my right) is the other Mexican regular around the hostel, possibly even more social than Marcello. She has been busy taking language classes at the University of Rome. Recently she found an apartment nearby the hostel. So, I assume she's in Rome to stay. Annabelle has a passion for language that I've never encountered. She speaks every major European language, and, for fun, picked up some Hindu from Internet tutorials!
One of the two Swedish guys is on the far right in the photo; his friend is off somewhere else. The travel companions are probably the most drunk in the whole piazza, mostly from vodka they chugged earlier. Patrick, the one missing from the photo, speaks broken but understandable English. His taste in American movies is similar to mine, even down to individual scenes and lines. It's amazing how American culture permeates all around Europe.
Patrick likes to stress the importance of milk in Sweden. Apparently, they drink it like water, but only fresh; no pasteurization.
William is missing from the picture. But I spend the most time talking with him. Like my brother, his political science major preoccupies him with U.S. foreign policy and current world events. He is highly critical of the U.S. government, as are most Europeans. He still keeps an open mind, a very cool individual indeed.
posted by Mike Rainey at 12:19 PM
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