Day 9- June 8

Remeber the other day when we became celebrities and it was really awesome? Well, we were just kidding about that being awesome, because today we became super celebrities. Through the awesome networking of Loyola and Sister Terri (and, in a way, Loyola Literacy Center patron and former U.S. Ambassador Lindy Boggs), we got ourselves a lil' ol' appointment with Miguel Diaz, the U.S. Ambassador to the Holy See. Ambassador Diaz is the face of U.S. diplomatic relations with Il Vaticano. After a harrowing security checkpoint, we entered the absolutely gorgeous embassy, which overlooks the Forum and has a garden with flourishing citrus trees. We got to meet both Ambassador Diaz and his Public Affairs officer, Nathan Bland (home state Louisiana holla). They told us about some really cool stuff they've been doing, like focusing on initiatives revolving around successful interfaith communication on key global issues and protecting the right to religious freedom across the world. The embassy, with a staff of only 19, has put on three pretty snazzy conferences in the past year: one on preventing the transmission of HIV/AIDS from mother to child, one on interfaith communication, and one on human trafficking. Ambassador Diaz told us about these projects, himself, and how stuff works around an embassy. He seemed a little shy of really getting into a discussion about how the U.S. and the Vatican agree or disagree on various policy matters. I, for one, was of course curious as soon as he mentioned in passing that they discuss environmental issues among other things, things which we all know that the Vatican and Ambassador Diaz (a conservative and former Catholic Theology professor) absolutely do not agree on with the current U.S. administration. But based on the way in which Ambassador Diaz fielded (read: sketchballed) some of my peers' questions about his actual activity in diplomatic relations, I decided it wouldn't be kosher to pursue that point. However, all in all, the visit was lovely and everyone was very personable and kind, down to the AK-47'ed up security guards who came over to chat and take pictures with us. Ambassador Diaz certainly has an impressive personal resume (a LOT of languages, and a trailblazer as one of few Hispanic ambassadors, among other things) and a serious passion for his job. If anyone's curious, you can see us being super-celebrities here on the highly trafficked U.S. Embassy to the Holy See Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=755175092&closeTheater=1#!/media/set/?set=a.215664151790368.56609.155357921154325). Oh, and fun fact: the U.S. has only had an official diplomatic relationship with the Vatican since the 1980's.

After this, and a lunch in which Kylee and I became Lady and the Tramp, and viciously thieved some bread, we all headed down to Doria Pamphilj Gallery, which is an amazing museum in an amazing old palace. Some of the family actually still lives there! And when I say amazing, I mean that you walk around this museum with your head craned at the ceiling like it's the Sistine chapel. There was fantabulous art everywhere. I guess that's something you could get used to in Italia, but it might take a while. We saw everything from a ceiling of the 12 labours of Hercules to a room of paintings on the ever-mysterious Mary Magdalene (nothing, by the way, in literally any religious narrative, Bible, apocyphal, or other says that Mary was ever a prostitute, as you've probably heard, but more on that below). There was also a room of some pretty BAMF statues and sarcophagi and such that once had the roof collapse in on it. A statue of a centaur in the middle, which had broken into 25 pieces, is now one of the most successful art restorations in the world. Also, I discovered a little-known 1400s Renaissance painter, Bernardo Parentino, with whom I have become quite taken. Here is his Temptation of St. Anthony Abbot, the delightfully chilling and bizarelly modernist painting that caught my eye in a room of golden frills and Rennaissance poses and lighting.

But I digress from the reason we went to the gallery, which was to see two more Caravaggios, which the lovely Kristin again taught us about. They were earlier Caravaggios, a "Riposo durante la fuga in Egitto,"  "Rest on the Flight into Egypt," from the Gospel of Matthew story that the Holy Family had to flee the scourge of Herod soon after Jesus' birth (a story whose deeply symbolic, and thus suspiciously unrealistic, nature of paralleling Jesus to Moses we discussed), and a "Maddalena Penitente," "Mary the Penitent," a portrait of Mary Magdalene, the repenting prostitute pop culture version of her. Interestingly, Caravaggio's penitant Mary sits in exactly the same pose as Mary Mother of God in "Rest on the Flight to Egypt," except of course Mary Magdalene is not holding a baby, but instead has perfume and jewlery scattered on the floor around her that apparently marks her as a donna della notte. From an artistic standpoint, I don't enjoy these early Caravaggios as much, because he hadn't yet settled into his characteristic flair for the dramatic and ability to convey seething raw emotion, as we saw the other day in "Crucifixion of St. Peter" and "Conversion of St. Paul." However, the two painting were extremely interesting discussion pieces and fit right into our class. We discussed the many rumours and misconceptions surrounding Mary Magdalene, and I have come out of class for now under the opinion that someone who didn't like women very much tried very hard to discredit her as Christianity formed. The "penitent prostitute" image seems to have been entirely made up to discredit her, while on the other hand there are some stories of her being instrumental in forming the early Church after the ascension of Jesus, traveling to France and evangelizing hundreds before retreating into a very holy life of hermitage and prayer, finally ascending to Heaven as a saint. We discussed how there was a strong conception of women as unreliable people and poor witnesses in Roman times, which makes it very interesting that someone tried so hard to make Mary into a prostitute, because she really only shows up in the Gospels at the very end, as a key witness to both the placing of Jesus in a tomb and the risen Jesus. So somebody at one point clearly thought she was a pretty darn good witness, and somebody else really didn't agree. Also, Sister Terri touched on the wonderful world of "Mary and Jesus sitting in a tree" rumours, explaining that in the apocryphal gospel of James, Jesus is said to have kissed Mary on the lips, which is most often read by scholars as a symbolic description of passing on wisdom.

Anyway, after all that, and a bit more time exploring the gallery, which really was just fantastic (and I don't think I ever knew it was there), we split up to educate ourselves in a different way by getting out there in Roma. Kylee and I set out to begin crossing things off of our obnoxiously long list of important sites. We hit two: the Church of San Ignacio, our fearless Jesuit leader, and Piazza Navona in the daytime. I could fangirl for years about the Church of San Ignacio, but this is already a really long blog. Suffice it to say that it is one of the most stunningly decorated things I have ever seen, and I'll never understand why it isn't more well known. We enjoyed trying to break down the artwork, picking out stories of Ignatius, the four Cardinal virtues, and some other fun stuff like that. Also, it just about made our lives to see the billboard at the front of the church that said in both Italiano and English: "Welcome! You are in a Jesuit community. More information?" Oh, the adorableness of the Jesuits. Anyway, we also greatly enjoyed Piazza Navona, of course. Although Bernini's famous Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi with it's epic and expressive figures and rich symbolism and general air of "you will never accomplish anything this incredible" is a fantastic sight, the real reason that I perosnally am so taken with Piazza Navona is because the atmosphere of the massive artist's market with the ever-persistent street dancers and sellers reminds me of Jackson Square back home in New Orleans. Little bits of character like that are the same in all the world's major cities, because it's just the same delicious, noisy, crowded, big mess that comes together when you gather people from all over the world and tell them to carve out a niche in a place that already breathes history on it's own.

The last noteworthy occurence of today was that my lovely roommate Kristin got one of the coveted appointments to Scavi St. Peter's, the excavations of the necropolis under the Basilica that contain the possible bones of St. Peter, as well as the bodies of many popes, including the wonderful Boniface VIII, who has been so admired in our Saints, Poets, and Popes course. Kristin was extremely moved by the chance to see this sacred and historied space, and was absolutely adorably gushing for at least an hour on her return. I am extremely jealous, and I hope my repeated emails pay off soon so I can follow in her footsteps. Lastly, Kristin gave me pasta, because she is a wonderful human being.