Yesterday, 8th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Relaxing Day. As I said in my last posting, I would not set my alarm for Sunday morning. When I had said good night to Fr. Joe Porpiglia, from Buffalo, NY after our trip to Viterbo, we agreed to just do a lazy lunch somewhere in Trastevere. At about 10:30, we both wandered into the kitchen, poured ourselves a coffee and wondered where would celebrate Mass. We tossed around the names of a few churches in the area, but not knowing schedules, that would be tricky. We thought that maybe if we just hit the streets, we would come upon a church somewhere. After all, there are 900 churches in Rome. Instead we decided to just say Mass for ourselves in our own chapel. Most of the house was empty. Many of the priests had gone down earlier to concelebrate at the main chapel at the seminary and were eating brunch in the main refectory, others had gone away for the weekend. So we vested and went to the altar to celebrate Eucharist for the both of us.
After the conclusion of Mass, we headed out towards Trastevere. If you recall, Trastevere is the neighborhood between the bottom of the hill where we live and the banks of the Tiber River. In ancient times, it was a kind of slum, always flooding. It was the predominantly Jewish area, and where many poor and servants of the wealthy families lived. Today it is a posh area with many houses dating to early days of Rome. There are some of the best restaraunts, chic shops, and beautiful churches.
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| This is the cortile, or cloister, of the Church of the Martyr St. Onofrio, which is located a few steps away from the seminary. I did not get pictures of the church because there was Mass in progress. |
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| One of the street leading down from the Gianicolo hill where the seminary is located into the Trastevere neighborhood. Walking up and down all these streets justifies all the delicious bread and pasta. |
We learned that the wife was here on business and her husband and sister were along for the travel. She works for a major credit card company that is trying to break into the Italian market. She was here doing business research. This card is not accepted in Italy. So I thought here is my chance. I have had some very frustrating experiences with American credit cards, especially on my last trip to France when I had to purchase gas for the car every couple of days. The credit card readers on the pumps do not read the magnetic strip on US credit cards, but only the small computer chip embedded in the edge of the card which all Europeans have. On Sundays, when there are no cashiers at the pumps, I had to ask a frenchman if he would consider using his card and I would give him the cash. Luckily, it worked or we would have been stranded until Monday morning. I told my gripe and tale of woe. I asked why haven't US credit card companies kept up with that technology. It is much safer than our card system which anyone can use, now that we are all swiping our own cards at checkouts. This chip system can only be used with a pin. No one can use your card that way. I was told that they are considering it.
When we finally got to the menu, it really was a little mom and pop place. There was no menu translation. The waiter and waitress were engaging both our tables at a time. They wanted pasta and asked for the house specialties. She rattled off three sauces; All'amatriciana, Carbonara, and Norcini. I was behind the waiter and signaled to them - take all three and share. Thats what they did. Fr. Joe asked for house specialties in appetizers. Meat and cheese platter, fried stuffed zucchini flowers, and braised stuffed artichokes. We just kept saying, "si". So we had all three. We followed that by splitting a plate of pasta with red sauce, and we split a roast pork dish.
In our conversation, with our new dining companions, we told them that we are priests on sabbatical. I learned from the husband and wife that they had met through activities with the Catholic Campus Ministry when they were in college at Loyola in Chicago. (Are you reading this Mike and Lucia) and how much campus ministry had helped their faith to grow. They are active in their parish and were bemoaning the fact that a favorite priest of theirs had just been transfered. "Why do they do that?" she asked.
In the meantime, the table behind them was filled with four people who joined in the conversation when they heard English. Two were Italians with limited English, one other was an Italian who had studied in America, the only woman was an ex-patriot from California who has been in Italy for 10 years. One of the non-English speaking men was interested in the scribbling that the couple's 18month boy was doing in a notebook. He asked to see the book and looked at intently. He came back with an offer: Give me this book and I will give you one of my paintings. The people were bit surprised. My thought was "go for it". But they were very hesitant. I had the idea running through my head, look at the painting at least. You might end up with something that will put this kid through medical school someday. But they didn't bite. Instead the artist asked to draw something in the notebook, which they let him. So who knows, maybe this sketch will be valuable someday.
The three young people left, with my business card. Unfortunately we did not get all their names. Guess what! The babies name in Nolin. Isn't it strange that after sitting in the presence of child for a while, you always learn the child's name. The father is Kevin. (If you folks read this, email me with your names, please.)
They left and the conversation switched to the foursome at the other table. Our plans to wander around Trasever for the aftenoon were drenched by heavy rains that started just about now. The two English speaking, folks, Jodi and Pierre, invited us over to the bar next door for a grappa after our meal. Partly because they were interesting and we needed to wait out the rain, we accepted. Long discussions about church, spirituality, and a you-ask-me-a question, I'll-ask-you-a-question session ensued. (Grappa can do funny things to people). We covered everything from "Do you like this pope?" to "Why don't they let you guys get married?" Jodi is a wholistic health worker. My questions to her was "Why do you smoke?"
Well nearly four hours later, and thankful that we were walking, after 3/4 liter of wine, limoncello, and grappa, we headed back to the "casa'. We got back and we were glad there was nothing on the rest of the day.
It was an early night.
