Here we are in Rome. We made it to Vatican city easily for the weekly Papal blessing. On the way we foraged for breakfast and got some rolls. I went in to a café and it was great to watch the interactions. The Italian server was loud and silly. The exchange of conversations was fun. A great energy. On the side was a gelato spot. I read somewhere that there was in fact soy gelato in Roma and even a place where we can get pistachio flavored vegan gelato. We have had an easy time getting sorbet in Europe so I was only expecting sorbet. In that gelato spot in the cafe, there were four, yes four! flavors of soya gelato.
Chocolate.
Vanilla.
Cappacino.
Hazlenut.
My jaw dropped. This was a regular café, not a vegan or even organic hippie place. And there was soy! I ran out and told James and the mission for the day was to get soy gelato after lunch.
We ate our rolls on the way to the Vatican. We reached the walls and arrived in St Peter’s square a little early. I felt this rush of emotion wash over me as we entered. I grew up seeing this place on television. We are in the Vatican! I grew up Catholic and have kept some of the influences in my life. While I do not like Benedict as he is extremely conservative, I appreciate that we were there. I could not put words on my emotions. I even felt some tears. How interesting. I did feel a sadness for the loss of Pope John Paul II as he was the pope during my childhood and most of my life. I wished I had been here when he did the blessings. Either way I was glad to be there.
We tried to figure out where Benedict would do his blessing. On a nondescript building was a window. It opened and someone dropped a red carpet/tapestry and the crowd cheered. That’s it. Not as far away as I thought it would be. I could see his face with my camera a bit zoomed in on him. He came out to a cheering crowd. I didn’t know what to think. He spoke.
That was interesting as any cynicism or contempt I had washed away. His voice and demeanor was so soft. I never expected that. I hung onto every syllable and listened (as if I knew Latin!) I gave a brief explanation of Catholicism and his place in the religion to the kids. After his blessing he gave a brief blessing in various languages. French, Spanish, German, Italian, English, etc. The blessing concluded and we walked around.
We looked for lunch and found a nice Italian place near the Vatican. It was cold outside but we sat outside anyway with heaters. We had a yummy pasta and pizza lunch. Here’s the interesting part. Someone attempted to pickpocket me! I was sitting on the inside chair with my bag on the inside. Someone sits at the table behind me. The chairs are close in proximity. I feel a bump and instinctually move my chair in and move my bag under the table to my feet. The man gets up and leaves looking back at me. I get a strange feeling and check my bag. My zippers were open! They were closed before this. Only we put the important stuff in a hard to reach spot. Only the tour book was in the easy unzipped spot.
James was pickpocketed twice in Spain. I think I mentioned that a while ago. One day my wallet was missing and the bag was unzipped. I assumed that it fell out. The Metro in Barcelona had my wallet in lost and found the next day. My passport, ID and credit cards were there. No charges on my cards. My gift card was gone and money. I still assumed it fell out and dropped. No one would actually take it! A few days later James and I are out late around 11pm. We get on the Metro. Later both James and I identified that we experienced a very bad intuition prior to getting on the train. I get on first and James is delayed. I look over and there are three younger men all over him, feeling his legs and body on the doorway of the metro where the cameras can not see. He is standing still holding the bag tightly. I walk over and yell at them telling them NO! I make eye contact with one as I am punching him on the shoulder and off they all go. Unsuccessful! We had passports and train tickets as we had to get tickets that day. Our life was in that bag! I still could not imagine. It must have been because we were out late or James is an easy target. Later I insensitively school James on his body language and how he should be carrying himself to avoid being a target! I have felt safe most of our travels and nothing has happened until now. Denial.
So after this guy tries in Rome, on ME, my feelings are hurt. Again I thought I was not a target and I had conflicting feelings. If he is poor and needs money, I obviously have more than he does and should share. No one would go so low unless they really needed it. I still believe that. Yet James saw more than one of these guys and said it was a planned scam. He said he looked well off. I thought he didn’t. I felt like I had a deep overall trust in the goodness of people and that everyone had their reasons for doing bad things. I do believe that everyone is inherently good. Yet someone tried to rip me off. In that moment I lost all trust in humanity. I felt betrayed. I could take those feelings and become reactionary and trust no one, blame the poor, etc. but I choose not to do that. I will sit with those feelings and allow myself to trust everyone but perhaps understand that good people will still rip people off. I have to understand that I am also a rich American traveling and that in itself opens this situation up. I choose to travel. That is the consequences of being privileged. And in Europe it is just pick pockets. It is not violent like in the States.
It was hard being in this holy city and knowing that Rome is known for pickpockets. I saw more homelessness and poverty here than anywhere else in Europe! (except for parts of Romania). When we arrived I saw rows of people lined up in sleeping bags at the post at night. I saw the beggars that are hunched over with missing limbs juxtaposed against priests walking by in their neatly pressed robes and perfect hair. We are at a palace where the pope lives and there are beggars everywhere. Some of my strongest beliefs and reasons for being an activist come from Catholicism.
Do good.
Care for the poor.
The meek and humble shall inherit the Earth.
Live charity.
Yet the Catholic church has so much money. I wouldn’t be surprised if a small percentage of their profits could end the poverty just in the Vatican city area. Rome is such a city of contradiction. The holiest city with poverty, pickpockets and homeless people lines up at the post. Here I am a rich American tourist. The true Catholic in me would have donated the money we borrowed for this trip before we even left. I do feel twinges of guilt for such extravagance. And perhaps in times when I stop caring or lose humbleness which I certainly have lately the pick pocket reminds me. I am reminded.
…the rest of the day…we got soy gelato. Hazelnut is absolutely divine. The vanilla was real vanilla. We will return for more. We went to the Colisseum and saw the ruins. Amazing how old this is! I tried in many ways tot explain to Luna and Liam how old this place is. Older than anything we have seen. All of it was breathtaking.
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