Home :)

I arrived home Saturday evening around 5:30 and have been so overjoyed! As much as I have loved my adventures in Europe, I have realized that my home will forever be in the U.S. Wow, three months. I can hardly believe that I was gone that long! Last week I was standing in front of St. Peter's Basilica and now I'm sitting in my house, all cozy, while sipping hot chocolate. Unbelievable.

~*~

As I bring this blog to a close, I wanted to share one last story with you all. On my second to last day in Rome, I had an experience that about sums up the entire trip. After our school work was accomplished for the day, a small group of us followed our Professor to the Basilica of Saint John Lateran, which was the first Christian church built in Rome, as well as the church of the Pope. Immediately, I liked it because it did not smell, look, or feel at all like a museum. A lot of churches and basilicas in Rome are more of a tourist spot than they are a place of worship, but this one was not so. It was spacious but not intimidating. I was intrigued by the history behind the construction of the building. To begin, the mosaic in the apse(front) of the church was one of the first artistic attempts to represent Christ. Additionally, the gorgeous bronze doors at the entrance of the church were taken from the Roman Senate House as a symbol of transfer of power from the Roman State to the Church. 

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But after leaving the basilica and venturing across the street to the original Lateran Palace, the more meaningful event of the night took place. The Lateran Palace contains the “Scala Sancta” or “Holy Stairs” that lead to the “Sancta Sanctorum”(Holy of Holies.) These marble stairs were originally from the praetorium of Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem, but were brought to Rome by St. Helena(the mother of Constantine.) If historians are correct, these would have been the same steps that Jesus would have climbed before standing trial before Pontius Pilate. The steps themselves have been a place of pilgrimage for many early through modern day Christians. Because they are deemed sacred, an individual cannot walk up them, but must go up on their hands and knees.

~*~

For awhile we simply stood and stared. It was one of those places you could feel the presence of God. I could tell that many in our group would not go up them, after all, it is a really humbling act. But I could also tell there were a select few who did want to, but did not want to go alone. Finally, I asked my Professor if we had enough time because I wanted to go up. She urged us to go and five of us moved forward and slowly lowered ourselves to our knees.

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Crawling up those steps was one of the most humbling yet intimate moments I've had this whole trip. Recently God has been reminding me that we are to be humble. Always conscious of our need for Him. Always conscious that He is ultimately in control. Whether the history behind the steps is accurate or not, it was a powerful reminder of what a Christian's life should look like: Humbly crawling toward God for the span of our lives, until we are finally reunited in eternity.

~*~

Thank you all for your encouragement, prayers, and support of me on this adventure. The past three months have been life changing and I want to thank you for sharing in this experience with me. May God bless you all, and have a wonderful Christmas!

Sincerely,

Maria

Danelle

Smith

Venezia

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0wT_ltJPg0

Venice was a quiet and beautiful city, and even though we left about as swiftly as we came, our five days in the unique city were well spent. Everything, from sipping a latte macchiato at Cafe Florian(one of the oldest cafes in Italy) to intensely studying a series of tapestries portraying the story of Christ's crucifixion and resurrection, to the gondola ride through the streets of water, I admired Venice most ardently. It is one of those places everyone should see, if given the chance.

Sincerely,

Maria

Tale of a musician, a nutty professor, and a Swedish Opera singer...

This whole weekend was a perfect picture of what I imagined Italy would be like. It's true, I based my few expectations off of the quirky small Italian villages as portrayed in movies(Under The Tuscan Sun, Only You.) which probably aren't the most accurate depictions of Italy either. Finally, after getting a full taste of the fast pace of Italian city life, I have encountered the quiet small Italian village.

~*~

We arrived in Vernazza (the fourth town that comprises Cinque Terre) around mid-afternoon last Friday and it was raining. Though it was raining, it enhanced the experience by giving the Ligurian sea an attractive eeriness that the sun just couldn't capture. Aside from the cute and quiet appearance of the town, a few other events happened that made the experience, well, an Italian experience.

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First off, right after we settled into our rooms, most of the group went out to find some cheap food. Finally I had a chance to be alone, and I did just that. I walked outside, camera in hand, and started taking pictures of the mountains covered in vineyards. Soon I wandered down a walkway near where the beach was and as I came around the bend I stopped, and speechlessly stared out into the abyss of sky and sea. It was beautiful. I walked up closer and found a dry rock to sit on. And I sat there and simply let my eyes take it all in.

~*~

It started getting darker and I meandered back to find my groupies. Eventually I found them and we went to a bar(which is a cafe) and I got a cappuccino with an artistic design in it. I love cappuccino, coffee, and all that good stuff, so it was a great moment of the day!

~*~

Later on, around 7pm, we decided to find a place for dinner. Randomly we found a little restaurant that looked like it might have seafood, so we promptly went in and sat down. Shaila was the only one who actually got something even remotely seafood related, but I had the best ravioli I have had yet in Italy. It was molto bene! We finished up by sharing some Tiramisu, and as we savored the sweet dessert, the restaurant owner got out his guitar to play for those of us in the restaurant. It was such a delightful moment! The owner and his friend sang some Italian songs for us and then in his limited English, asked if anyone in the restaurant could also play. My friends were all sitting there pointing to me and as he came near me with the guitar I objected hastily: But it was too late. So there I was in this restaurant, with this guy's guitar, and all of these strangers were watching me in anticipation. Shaila, Jess, and Chris agreed to sing along with me and I began to play the only songs I have memorized for guitar, worship songs. Talk about culture making! Here we were, American students, singing “Blessed Be Your Name” and “Amazing Grace” in a restaurant full of Italians and other internationals. We actually sounded good, as the four of us lifted up our voices, blessing those around us. They may not have known what we were singing about, but God gave us a moment to minister to them despite a common language. I strummed my last chord and the place filled with the sound of clapping. The owner, Piva, resumed his place behind the guitar and continued playing some other Italian pieces. He liked us a lot and invited us to pull our chairs over to his table, he even gave us free Limoncello. We spent a good hour or two singing with Piva, a nutty professor from Arizona, and a Swedish Opera singer! It was so ridiculously crazy, but it was the best night we've experienced in Italy.

~*~

After we left the restaurant we walked around some more before running into the nutty professor from Arizona again. Charlene(the prof) expressed to us how she had been traveling alone and how it's been a little difficult thus far. She shared her story with us and thanked us for the experience at the restaurant, but before she finished, Piva and his friend walked by us and stopped to talk. Piva, in his sweet Italian accent, as if a line in a movie, says “Come, let us look at the sea” and we all walk together back to the bay. The sea at night is almost as majestic as it is in daylight. It made for a nice little reunion.

~*~

It is getting late by this point, and since we have an early start in the morning, we head back towards our hotel. That is...until we run into a group of ladies(who were also in the restaurant)and they invite us to come with them. Three Italian men were leading the way and before we know it, we are walking into a random guy's wine cellar! His name was Jacamo, and he kindly showed us how he made wine for a living. He also showed us how he makes his own vinegar. We are all sitting around this table with a candle in the middle, sipping authentic wine, and I turn and ask Shaila how we got to be here. She just laughed, because the whole day was so random that it felt like a dream.

~*~

The next day we woke up early, enjoyed a quiet reflective time at the bay, and had a filling breakfast. We packed up our backpacks and then began the hike, the whole reason I came. It was intense but amazing; we hiked a few miles through the mountains along the coast. I am so thankful that my parents took my siblings and I on many camping and hiking excursions throughout my childhood because it is now one of my favorite pastimes. Backpacking might very well become my next new passion. We only hiked to one town before catching a train back to Rome, but the hike, along with the other stories I mentioned, I will never forget.

Sincerely,

Maria

PS: By the way, I am spending five days this week in Venice! News on that experience will be coming soon!

A Universal Reminder

When I look at a sunset, it's as if I'm peering into the eyes of God: Piercing light and surging iridescence. Tainted eyes allow me to see a spark of God's full glory. Towering mountains remind me that I am only one life amongst the innumerable, a vapor quickly fading. Yet these same mountains awaken my heart to the greatness that I am a part of. It amazes me that I didn't choose to live, someone else chose that for me. I have the power to choose many things, but it was out of my control to choose to be born. Isn't that beautiful? The repetition of life pulses on. Decade after decade. Century after century. Constant moving motion; it is God's heartbeat propelling life.

~*~

It's amazing how God can ignite the heart. Passion. Purpose. Life is worth living passionately. Really, I can't imagine how useless and boring life would be without it. Passion by definition is: “any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.” So passion has the power to either compel love and goodness, or it can promote hatred. Which one will we be remembered for?

~*~

When I think of passion, some of the big world changers come to mind: Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King Jr., or even the charities started by the wealthy. God used them to accomplish great things but it begins by being passionate about the little everyday things. Anyone can feel passionate about big things: sports, an award-winning book, politics, etc., but it is the little things that are often forgotten. Little things like a weekly visit to a nursing home, spending time with your siblings, giving someone a sympathy card, or making an effort to be friends with someone who has few. To care about the little things of life as if they were great causes, that is love, and that is beautiful.

~*~

I'm a firm believer that God puts us where we are for a reason, to accomplish His purposes, in the little things of life. If I am at home, my purpose is to help and encourage my family. If I am at school, my purpose is to honor God by doing my best in school and by encouraging friends at school. We are called to do everything with excellence: Be a neighbor, with excellence. Be a mother, with excellence. Be a big sister, with excellence. Be a friend, with excellence. I know I don't do everything with excellence because it is so easy to find shortcuts and do things to just get by. But God is awakening me and giving me strength to change. It's the small things that I really see God at work in.

~*~

I often wonder, if I did everything with as much passion as I have for traveling, writing, watching a football game, or making art, how might the world be different? How might my life and the lives of those around me be different? Even if it's just a little difference...it's better than nothing. Shouldn't it be worth a try?

~*~

The most specific thing God has been teaching me, is that I'm free. Faith is freedom but many people never fully experience that freedom because we are too afraid to trust God. We are too afraid to jump! Instead, we live our faith in black and white. Complacent and comfortable, we miss the call. Our faith is supposed to be bursting with color and light! We are chromatic creations, and fully alive.

~*~

So the next time you see a sunset, think of the honor we have to spread that color. Think of all the dark places that are in need of light...and don't be afraid to shine!

(This post was produced on a bumpy night train ride. As always, inspiration comes at odd times.)

Sincerely,

Maria

Quand, à Paris

It has been a dream of mine to see Paris since my seventh grade year of high school. I remember the day quite clearly: we seventh graders and our parents packed into Union's little out-dated cafeteria for orientation into high school. I spent most of the meeting day-dreaming(and hoping my mom was paying attention to everything)until the club advisors got up to share about the new opportunities that high school offered, and that is when Paris was mentioned. Suddenly, I hung onto every word about the French club like a puppy anticipating a treat. My mom shot me a glance as if to say, “Don't even think about it.” Four years later I found myself a member of the French club and with two and a half years of French under my belt. Of course, I let go of the whole thing once I felt like the class was turning into more of a chore and less of an enjoyment. Regardless, I ended up in Paris apart from the French club and while it was indeed a good experience, it was very different from what I expected.

~*~

Point 1: So Italian men are the ones who have the reputation for being outrageously flirtatious, but I'd like to inform you that that stereotype is wrong. It is actually French men who are too flirtatious. Everywhere, from passing men on the streets, to sitting next to them on the metro, Paris men were not shy about showing their interest.

~*~

Point 2: The French are stereotyped as hating Americans. That is untrue as well; they really actually love Americans. I didn't meet one Parisian who was not excited that we were American. Additionally, from what I saw, the culture of Paris seemed to try to mimic that of the U.S. So I didn't see the French dislike of America like everyone claims.

~*~

Point 3: I expected Paris to be more classic and well...clean. Instead it was really dirty and really touristy. Lot's of unpleasant smells and sights...totally saw a few people publicly urinating. However, I do realize that cleanliness is an issue for any big city, so I can't say Paris was any worse than any other city.

~*~

There were many aspects of Paris that I also really enjoyed. We saw the view of the city from L'Arc de Triomph and the Eiffel Tower, walked through THE Notre Dame Cathedral and Sainte Chapelle Chapel, went street shopping, and found THE Moulin Rouge(in daylight of course.) One night we packed a picnic dinner and had dinner in the park by the Eiffel Tower. The Eiffel Tower at night is worth seeing because every hour it lights up and right before it closes, it puts on an impressive light up show. It was a great way to spend the evening. Some of my favorite moments were the art museums we walked through. Yes, I was able to lay eyes on THE Mona Lisa, among many other works of art in Le Louvre. I also went through the Musee d'Orsay, which displayed the original works of Monet, Renoir, Degas, and Van Gogh! I never imagined I would see the actual works of art that I had attempted to replicate in my high school art classes, but I did, and I am so blessed and thankful for the opportunity.

~*~

Now that I'm traveling on my own, I am starting to see how exhausting traveling can be. The stress of buying tickets for public transportation and the effort it took to figure out some public transportation systems often made me feel like traveling wasn't worth it. Of course, now that break is over, the stressful adventures have turned into good stories, my roommate and I can only look back and laugh at the hilarity of it all.

~*~

Well that has been my life recently. I love my life but I do miss so many things about home too. I hope you all are doing well and will be excited to see everyone when I get back in seven weeks.

Sincerely,

Maria

Zurich

When we first arrived into Zurich, I wasn't too excited. After a night of hell on the night train, I was ready to go back to Rome and scratch this whole mid-semester break. We wandered around the train station trying to get our train connection to Paris, buy a Zurich public transportation pass, paid to use the bathrooms, and then walked around with all our luggage in search for a pharmacy. Finally we were re-directed back to the train station where a pharmacy was hiding just around the corner. We bought cold meds and put the rest of our luggage in a locker for the day before walking around the town in search of some lunch. A chinese-ish restaurant caught our attention and we enjoyed a shared meal of strange pasta-something and chicken wings. The rest of the day we walked around in the rain, rode the public transportation in the rain, but got a good view of the city nonetheless. Eventually we ended up in a Starbucks, a STARBUCKS!! And Jess and I treated ourselves to American-ish beverages. Hot Mocha=warmth to my soul. We sat in Starbucks for hours just talking about life, and I learned so much about Jess that I didn't know before. I guess it was our first time of roommate bonding. But it was also on the comfy Starbucks sofa that I had my most homesick feeling yet this semester and I felt like this whole break would be miserable. Of course, being sick played a huge part in my negative attitude. Head congestion, fever, aches...I just wanted to be home eating chicken noodle soup and watching Winnie the Pooh. Finally, we realized it was after eight and headed back to our shabby train lockers, and with luggage in hand, we preceded to follow our handwritten directions to our couchsurfing host's house. Surprisingly we did not get lost at all, we found it with ease, and actually arrived a little bit too early. So we chilled outside of the apartment building until it was time to go in. Jens was extremely nice, and any hesitation about couchsurfing that we had quickly disappeared. (Our host is a health conscious marathon runner and thankfully not a scary guy like we were afraid of encountering.) The night was spent talking and sharing stories while eating peanuts and drinking orange juice. For the first time that day I was finally feeling like this trip was going to be enjoyable and not a huge burden. Meeting people always enhances an experience! Our first night sleeping in a different city and in the home of someone we just met, went extremely well. Jess and I both slept better than we usually do in the convent, it was so comfortable!

I woke up today feeling very energized and excited to actually go out and see the city of Zurich. Jens shared some of his yogurt/granola/fruit cereal that he makes himself and it was strangely really good. After a cup of coffee, and Jens kindly helping us get internet access, we set out for our day of sight seeing. Really we didn't have a plan, but we didn't need one either. Spontaneity is definitely my style. Jess and I simply walked where we felt like going, no busy schedule, just enjoying and absorbing the atmosphere of Zurich. We saw how beautiful the city really was as we walked the path along the river. I was impressed with the cute and clean streets and shops as well as the slow pace of the people living here. After seeing St.Peters Church we went to the Swiss market where Jess bought some old records in nice condition. Ah, the market makes me miss our little American flea markets. In no hurry, we meandered over to a bench by the lake and just enjoyed some time eating peanuts and commenting on life. It was perfect. Afterwards we bought an add-on for our ticket to ride the boat down the lake. It was so beautiful!! What a great sight!!! Being the naïve tourists that we were, we totally stood on the top deck the whole time only to find out later that top deck is only for first class passengers. Oops. We also got off too far down the lake and ended up walking a far ways back. But I can't complain, it was a beautiful day.

So...I have a confession to make: guilty pleasure #2: we went to Subway for dinner. I know, I know! Why would I go to Subway when I am in Switzerland!? Well, it sounds crazy but we miss American food quite often. The food here is great, but once and awhile we just need something from home. So we had our Subway, and it was perfect.

The end of the day was topped though when we took the train to the end of the line...at the top of the mountain. Jess and I dismounted the train and immediately were speechless. It was so beautiful!! I can't tell you how beautiful it really was to see the Alps, for the first time, at dusk. Oh my goodness, it was so beautiful! I noticed lots of people walking down from a trail, so I asked Jess if she wanted to go up and see what was up there. We hiked up this hill and with each step could feel the air getting colder. What was at the top was so much grander than what we saw from the train. It was the full overlook of the city of Zurich and the Alps. City meets creation, and they complimented each other well. I put my camera away after realizing it could not do an adequate job and just stood there. I stood there in awe, thinking there is no way someone can see this and not believe in a god. God, I can't fathom your greatness, but these mountains were singing it!

Oh what a wonderful night! Now we are hanging out with Jens and his sister and talking about so much beauty was seen in just one little day of our lives.

Imago Dei

When walking through the city of Rome yesterday, I felt completely at peace. But I also felt something different too. Independence? No, while feeling independent is true, that was not exactly it either. After a good time of silent thought, the word finally came to me, confidence. That's it! I feel confident! Suddenly, in addition to experiencing peace, independence, and confidence, excitement entered the mix! I could have thrown a party!

~*~

So you might be wondering, why is that so important? Ask anyone who knows me, in the past, I have not been a very confident person. For so many years I have struggled with confidence issues, mostly because of my own sinfulness. I always shot down compliments instead of accepting them. In a way, I was practicing self-abuse by holding tight to a negative self-perception. It was hard not to compare myself to others and I struggled seeing beauty within myself. The lack of confidence turned into a fear of being seen: I was convinced that only my flaws would be seen, so I stopped doing activities that could bring attention to myself. I had tried to make myself invisible.

~*~

Really it didn't make sense at all. I professed to be a child of God, the Creator of all things beautiful and good, but I couldn't see the beauty within myself. My life did not line-up with my relationship with my Creator, in whom my image is made in. I needed to believe the reality of Romans chapter eight and stop being dead in my sins. How terrible it has been suppressing my God-given abilities, no wonder I have felt so dry! The living dead is not a good descriptor of a follower of The Way. This journey has been a long one, and the story is far too long to tell here, but God has been caring for my wounded spirit for many years, and now I feel like the healing is almost complete. I am blessed. I feel like a butterfly emerging from it's dark cocoon; ready to radiate color and fly! I am so overwhelmed with God's love right now because I know that it is solely because of Him that I am so inspired and alive now. I thought I was spiritually dying, but God has revived me and it sure feels good to be alive!

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

-Maria

Whimsical Weekend...

Rushing(rushing) water, laughter, trees in motion, nature's symphony meets Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. Like the stroke of a brush, the breeze sweeps through my hair and over my face, and as I open my eyes, the darkness melts into breath-taking watercolor. As the sky comes into focus, the sounds become clearer, and lifting myself up from nature's bed, I can see the musicians: A sparkling fountain gushes out water as two little kids sit at it's base, staring up in wonder. Tall trees loom overhead and around the clearing. And right above me stands the man-made pole sporting speakers, out flowing many classical masterpieces to the movement of the fountain. This is what I did this weekend.

~*~

At the beginning of last week some friends and I were studying in the library when we decided to make something of the coming weekend. We all went to some different airline sights and searched through the ticket deals of the week. Sicily was our first choice until a better one arose, Budapest! Budapest won. On a whim, five of us bought tickets and then a few days later boarded a plane with nothing but a backpack and an ambitious attitude. It was one of the best weekends I've had yet.

~*~

In two days, the five of us walked approximately sixteen miles seeing the main sights of Budapest, learned a lot of Hungarian history, walked into an anti-communist rally, made a Hungarian friend, and had a very restful experience while doing it. The last day of our trip we ventured into a park that was on an island in the middle of the Danube river. It was here that we found the musical fountain, and refreshing fall-like atmosphere. It reminded me of home a lot because there were actually trees turning colors here, pumpkins and fall flowers were sold on street corners, and the temperature was comfortably cooler. We were all so happy! The Hungarian society, from what I saw of it, was very pleasant. They are very family oriented people, we witnessed so many families actually spending time with their kids. I wish we weren't so busy in America because family activities are so important, especially for children. Hungarians are also the nicest people! We didn't encounter a single unkind person. Everyone was very eager and happy to help us find our way. The whole weekend was a blessing. I feel like the five of us became closer and the glimpse of another culture has given me more inspiration for my life once back in the States.

Peace,

Maria

Thoughts Inspired by the Roman Colosseum

Glorious structure...inglorious bastards? What is greatness? Architectural artistry at it's finest...the bloodshed of criminals, and the innocent? Is greatness being a god? Or is greatness dying? As I observed the degenerate ruins of the inside of the Colosseum today, my eyes would not let me marvel at the structure. In no way did I admire the mass amounts of stone still standing, nor the ingenious engineering. I could not open my eyes without seeing the blood. I learned today that at the opening of the Colosseum, a one-hundred day celebration was carried out in which thousands of animals and gladiators were killed, the equivalent of a killing occurring every five minutes. How can I admire that? I can't.

~*~

So many thoughts that I've never pondered before, came to my mind today. Thoughts about ancient Rome, present day Rome, and America. Questions that I don't have the answers to. What is the value of life? Is life sacred or free for the taking? Is life valued or despised...or coveted? Do I value life? Or do I simply take it for granted? Do I realize that my life is affecting others? The inhumanity that humans have displayed over the course of the world reminds me of the magnitude of our sin. I have no right to judge the Romans, Jews, Hitler, white America during the sixties, Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden, or any other people that have inflicted great pain and injustice in this world. I simply cannot because I am human too and it's evident we are all in need of a Savior. It sickens me to think that there is potential for great evil to be carried out through me. But I am overjoyed in knowing that there is potential for great goodness to be carried out through me as well.

~*~

Towards the end of my observation of the inside of the Colosseum, I stopped at the railing of the second level and just gazed over the interior. I dared to look history in the eye, and to my surprise it was looking back. It was as if history was telling me that this is not finished. The devaluing of life, love, and beauty still plagues us. It didn't end when gladiator fighting stopped being an enjoyed sport. It didn't end when the concentration camps were liberated. It didn't end when the civil rights movement was resolved. It didn't end when Saddam Hussein faced the death penalty. It still rages on.

~*~

I looked over to Lisa, who was standing next to me, and asked her how seeing these things made her feel. Her feelings were much like my own. The experience is waking us up and calling us away from our complacency. She expressed how she has also been unimpressed with the physical greatness of the things we've seen. For whatever reason, God is not allowing us to view these things with a tourist's eyes. There is greater meaning that we can take from these experiences.

~*~

We also talked about what it would have been like for the people who would have been tucked under the center platform knowing that death was what they had to look forward to. To emerge from underneath and see thousands of people who only view your life as a sport. Imagine dying to the fading sounds of cheering? These thoughts baffle me. Even more, imagine being one in this crowd, commoner or emperor, and finding pleasure in spilled blood and cries of pain. One would have to be numb. The conversation turned to the Christians of the early church and what their faith looked like. Numerous Christians were martyred here in the confines of the Colosseum(and many other arenas near Rome.) Their faith was a testament of love, truth, passion, and the example of Christ. In America, can I say the same about my faith? No. I have never been in danger of losing my life because of my faith. I have been in danger of losing other things, like acceptance and the right to pray in school, but never my bodily life. In relation to the risk the early Christians faced, my faith seems so shallow.

~*~

It has been a good day for fruitfulness of thought. My passion right now may or may not affect you at all, I think it's an experience everyone should have. I just want to remind you that too often we take life for granted. We let distractions hinder our view of God's work and instead become useless. I encourage you to intentionally look at life around you and praise God for it. It shouldn't just take tragedy for us to really see. You don't have to be abroad to see greatness: the work of God. I see it most in the small things of life, not the sights and wonders of the world. It's all around us, we just have to look for it. Also I want to thank you all for the encouragement you have been, and it's my sincere hope that you can share this experience with me.

Grace to you and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.

-Maria

PS: I hope I did not offend anyone with my language in this post. My purpose in using every word was to express as fully as I could, the thoughts I have been having. I went by exact dictionary definitions in regards to my word choices.

Of War and Peace

Walking through Rome at night, I completely saw why the city is known for it's Romantic ambience. At night, the rush of the day ceases. Like a baby put to sleep, peace descends upon the “Eternal City.” Together, the moonlight and street lights conjointly illuminate the piazzas and fountains, where lovers kiss to the street musician's opus. It really is tranquil. This experience is new for me. I'm used to the noise and hustle of American cities, cities that never seem to sleep. Rome at night is the most peaceful time of day.

First on our night adventure, we went to the Colosseum and admired the magnificent structure aglow. We took some pictures and had some good laughs, but we also sat there and soaked it in. Next we walked by the Victor Emmanuel Monument which looks more glorious at night than during the day. We headed down to piazza Campo dei fiori, the location where we learned of Giordano Bruno, a philosopher who was burned alive by the Italian Inquisition, in this very spot. Apparently he had a lot of crazy ideas in favor of heliocentrism and therefore was considered a heretic for believing that the earth revolved around the sun. It was also at this piazza that we walked by location where Julius Caesar was assassinated back in 44 BC! 

From there we journey to piazza Navona and admired the Bernini fountains before walking on to the piazza where the Pantheon proudly stands. It was by the pantheon where the most street musicians were. Lot's of couples were kissing...but it wasn't degrading. Strangely, it was “romantic” to witness. After our sight director, Kristen, pried us away from the sights of the Pantheon, she treated us to best gelato in town. I had a chocolate chip flavor along with hazelnut, I love italian ice cream! Our last main stop was by the Trevi Fountain. This was the first time I saw the infamous fountain. The shadows and lights added dimension to Neptune and the horses, making them more life-like. The clear water spewed out into the sparkling pool of the fountain, calming it's onlookers.

The night was lovely. I enjoyed walking the cobblestone streets and seeing the city in a new light. However our peaceful night was ruffled when we got on the bus to ride home. We were sitting in our seats discussing the sights of the evening when our talk was interrupted by slurred yelling from the bus doors. We looked up to see a tall, unshaven italian man stumbling into the bus bringing with him the scent of booze. He had been following after this large black man who sat conveniently right behind us. The words that leaked out of the incoherent man's mouth, we did not understand, but it was not hard to figure out that he was spewing racist remarks to the man behind us. The black man remained silent and didn't pay any attention to his intoxicated offender, not even a glance. The drunk soon gave up and somehow moved forward on the bus to an empty seat, an empty seat right beside one of the guys in our group. That hushed all attempts at conversation we were trying to make. The man soon started ranting on to our friend in Italian while chewing and spitting out pieces of the bread he was eating. Thoughts raced through our heads about what we should do. Get off the bus and walk the whole way back? We figured silence was the best route, so we sat silently and made a cautious effort not to make eye contact with the man. I felt bad for our friend Sean, who had the drunk man practically leaning on him.

~*~

Just when we thought the man was calming down, another man gets on the bus who is higher than a kite. On his arms are visible holes where he had repeatedly injected himself. He sits in the back of the bus as well and looks like he intends to mind his own business. Until the drunk man starts raving on again to the black man. The guy who was high starts talking back to the drunk, only fueling the fire. The people in the front of the bus are by this point noticing the scene, some look humored and others look worried, like Kristen. We just sit silently and hope our stop comes swiftly. I pray that neither of the men pull out weapons. The drunk stands again, his voice rising higher, and starts fumbling in his pockets. We freeze, hoping and praying its not a weapon...it's a...cellphone. Holding onto the railing in the bus the man begins taking pictures with his phone of the two men in the back. Honestly, that was a relief. Eventually the man staggers up to the front of the bus and we all quickly stand up and move near the doors. Finally, after what seemed like forever, our stop comes and we exit the bus faster than we ever have. The bus drives off, we are safe.

~*~

Rome really is very safe. In fact, there is a shockingly higher crime rate in the U.S than anywhere in Europe. So no need to worry. We all travel in groups and watch out for each other. It was just ironic that during our night tour we all kept expressing how peaceful the experience was turning out to be, but the end was quite opposite. The whole bus experience could have been worse in my eyes, I felt more sad than afraid. It was sad because here are these men, who to them, this is life. Getting drunk, getting high, being discriminated against...These are hurting people and Jesus wants to give them life. What makes me even more sad than these hurting strangers, is the realization that there are hurting people all around us. People who don't know what beauty or love really is like because all they've known is pain. Sometimes the pain is apparent, but often it is hidden. This is why Christians need to be sensitive. With this war and sickness all around us...what are we doing to help restore the peace?

See...

Swaying in the calm breeze, the vibrant purple flowers turned their teacup faces toward the sun. Being. Neither toiling nor spinning. Beautiful. Waltzing with honeybees. Impacting. Beautifying and sustaining the chaos. Life.

This was what I did for our first day of class. Sat outside in the cool breeze and watched a flower display fully it's purpose in existing. Dr.Szabo told us to take 15 minutes, I could have taken longer. But in the brevity of my observation I was amazed to rediscover what I'm often too distracted to notice: God breathing life, sustaining life, being glorified by life. At first when I sat down I just saw some flowers, but I forced myself to be still. Soon after, the flowers reminded me of beauty. How beauty is natural, a reflection of God, and how it “simply is.¹”Then I thought of how shallow and restricted my understanding of beauty is: fashion, definable, physical and fading. If only we looked more upon God's face, and less at our own, we would be doing ourselves and everything around us a bigger favor. We would transform from temporary to eternal. We would spread life. We would just be.

Sincerely,

Maria

1“Beauty is not caused, it is.” - Emily Dickinson

Moving In With The Nuns

      When the whole east coast was still sleeping, we were arriving bright and early into Rome at the exciting hour of 8:15 in the morning.  The tiredness hadn’t quite set in but we were so happy to finally be here that we quickly moved through customs, found our luggage, and then were warmly welcomed by Dr. Szabo and Kristen.

      It all happened so quickly. Before I knew it we were riding a bus through Rome and getting a taste of Italian driving. It is a gorgeous city…the houses all have cute balconies furnished with hanging plants and flowers.  Huge old buildings tower over the artsy cobblestone streets. Trees as tall as the main street buildings (if not taller) line the streets. I love the trees here. They were on of the first things I noticed when we arrived. One of my favorites is the Italian Stone Pines. They are very tall and most have a large circumference but they do not branch off until the very top where the needles make a green bowl-like covering.

      But we were fading quickly. The lack of sleep was weighing heavily on us, most of us unpacked, underwent part of orientation, took a grounds tour, and listened to a cell phone salesman while barely being able to keep our eyes open. Finally they let us take a 2-hour nap that helped a bit. We had homemade spaghetti dinner that was marvelous! Shortly afterwards we walked a few blocks to have our first gelato (Italian ice cream) experience ever. It was so good!!!

       Today we woke up to a fresh breeze blowing through our window. They don’t have screens here, only shutters, so we can open our huge windows and see the gardens, feel the breeze, and hear the city sounds all at the same time.

      We went through our Rome manual today and learned all of the important policies on community living. I learned that I probably should avoid making-out with someone in the student lounge because it’s not pleasant for the other students (and not very romantic either.) ;)

      This afternoon we toured the neighborhood, which included finding the bank and grocery store. I really do enjoy walks. It was a nice afternoon activity. Tonight we have nothing big planned since most of us are still not completely over our jet lag. Rumor has it though, that the Vatican is on the list of activities this coming week!

Until Tomorrow,

Maria

Reveries and Realities

Another step is made, erecting a cloud of dust and sending gravel trickling down over the edge. The view is worth capturing, as the black of the night peels away and the sky's canvas is stroked with orange, pink, and pale blue. This is the birth of a new day. A fresh start, an untried experience. As remarkable as the panoramic sight is, the fog of the unlit valley still haunts. Is it worth the risk when so much is unknown? I look behind me one last time at the path that brought me here. There is nothing to go back to, only a jump left to make. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. And leaning forward, I release every last bit of control, and go plunging into consciousness.

I am not in Rome yet, but I began the journey almost a year ago when I signed up for an experience that seemed so unreal it was as if I was dreaming. Until now, it seemed too awe-inspiring to be real. Yet I continued to prepare myself for it and tell everyone dear to me of it's coming. Dazed, I packed as lightly as I could and traveled to Pittsburgh the next morning. It wasn't until I saw the rest of the group and the release of my mother's embrace that it hit me: this is real, and this is really happening.

As many of you know, we did not fly out as planned. At first our flight was delayed because of mechanical problems and two hours later when the problem was still not resolved, our flight was cancelled and we were being handed vouchers for a hotel and meals. We were all kind of bummed, but in a way, the situation has been good in many ways. Our group really never officially met and this extra time is giving us a chance to bond before we enter europe. Additionally, this allotted time is giving us a chance to rest one last time before we leave (a time of rest that we probably would not have taken on our own.)

So these are my thoughts for the day. The dream has transformed into a tangible reality and I'm jumping because there is no need to turn back.

Until Tomorrow,
Maria Danelle Smith