Though this facet of my semester hasn't had too much coverage here on da blog, hating everyone in the Rome program has long been a fundamental part of my study abroad experience. They're a small, close-knit program, they can cook, they live in the same city as the pope through the terms of two different popes, their weather is nice, and they're surrounded at all times by gelato. Basically, the only thing keeping me from spending the larger part of all my waking hours envying them is the likelihood that they'd all get fat with the delicious foodstuffs they're faced with day in and day out, and they haven't even done that. The Rome Program, it has seemed all semester, is everything that anyone could ever want. With this in mind, my expectations for this Easter weekend were pretty much sky high - and they were met and surpassed.
When my roommate and I got in to the city late Thursday night, the only thing we really had time to do was go to dinner. This, along with the ACTUAL palm trees that had greeted us at the airport, was a pretty solid start to our trip. Any weekend that starts with spinach-ricotta ravioli is bound to be filled with joy and perfection, right?
(Spoiler: The appropriate answer to that question is "right!")
On Friday, our day began with a tour of St. Peter's Basilica and a couple hours of exploring the Vatican Museums. In case that schedule isn't great enough on its own - and oh, it is - we also spent that entire time with our unnecessary coats slung over our arms and our sunglasses on. Having come from snowy London in the coldest March it has almost ever had, it's safe to say that we were feeling pretty good at this point.
From the Vatican Museums, the day only continued to go uphill, as my roommate and I met up with our other travel companions, our respective closest friends from the Dublin program. We headed to a very late, very lengthy, and very delicious pizza lunch with them - yes, on Good Friday; at least we all got meatless pizzas? - before reporting to the Colosseum for the event that the Campus Ministry pilgrimage had planned for us: stations of the cross, led by Pope Francis himself.
Though there's probably something theologically off-color about this reality, that night of reading of Christ's passion on the day when we recognize His being put to death was one of the most joyful evenings of my college career. The thing about the Campus Ministry pilgrimage - of which this was the first whole-group event - is that it drew its participants from all (European) corners of Notre Dame's International Studies department. There were more happy, scream-filled reunions at the Colosseum that night than there are on an average day at the arrivals gate at O'Hare.
Saturday brought us this same feeling, as it drew every participant in the pilgrimage to St. Peter's Square at midday to pick up our Easter Mass tickets. It brought a reunion that knocked two of my friends to the ground and caused every person in the square to fear for some sort of minor terrorist attack, and it brought me to a gelato place where they dipped my whole waffle cone full of dairy into dark chocolate and then stuck a cookie in it. That night, it brought me to the very epicenter of the ND Rome Program for a home-cooked meal and a jam session full of just-a-few-hours-early Hallelujahs from the Folk Choir repertoire, with Folk Choir friends I hadn't seen since the days when we were sitting on South Beach still embracing the chant, "Go Irish, Beat Bama." Saturday was a good day.
After all of this, on Sunday, it was finally time for the real reason we had all come to Rome: the papal Easter mass. Unsurprisingly, this, too, was incredible. The post-Gospel homily at this multi-lingual mass was replaced with some time for silent reflection and prayer, and I think it's safe to say I wasn't the only one with tears in my eyes by the time we reached the Creed. We were in a sunny, warm St. Peter's Square with friends from whom we'd spent months apart watching the brand new pope say mass on Resurrection Day. Does life get better than it was in that moment?
Well, that afternoon, I went back to the gelato place where they dip your purchase in molten chocolate, so yeah, it does.
Though Vision Break Week 2012 still holds the title of Best Week Ever, this Easter Triduum certainly takes the prize for Best Weekend. I saw great friends, I ate great food, and I discovered that I and everyone I know are complete and shameless papal fangirls. I was there in person to see Pope Francis kiss that disabled baby, people! Yo Taylor, imma let you finish, but Rome just had one of the best weekends of all time. OF ALL TIME.
And the best part of all was that we all said our goodbyes on Sunday with the phrase, "See you next weekend." For this weekend, you see, is the London-hosted Booze Cruise. We're all reuniting again in two short days, and this time, it's on our turf. Get ready, Rome kids - because London is so ready for you.
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