this week in the odyssey
4.5.99 -- 4.12.99
rome, italy

The Sound of Marching, Charging Feet

The Office Odyssey audience is a well-informed one, sensitive to the push and pull of the tides of history. It is also an audience that knows geography. Because of this, many of you know that Italy is close to Yugoslavia and the war that is going on over there.

NATO's air campaign against Milosevic started just a day or two before we arrived here in Rome. Understandably, this made us just a little bit nervous. Close as we are to the goings-on, we expected to see some visible manifestations of Italian feeling about the war one way or the other. There were apparently some small demonstrations around Rome last weekend, but we didn't see anything ourselves.

However to be on the safe side, Kristanne and I sewed maple leafs on all our clothing and took to punctuating our every utterance with the word, "eh?" If anyone asks, we're Canadian. Very Canadian. I'm practically a mountie, I'm so Canadian, eh?

This Sunday, however, we did see a fairly large (though peaceful) anti-war demonstration (shown in the photos above). Like most demonstrations against the NATO activities, this one pretty much equated "NATO" with "Yankee American Aggressor." It was quite an adrenalin rush to see -- hundreds of marchers paraded through the streets chanting slogans, waving signs, and generally disrupting traffic. We came across them as we attempted to get crosstown to research a church Kristanne is doing a presentation on. No dice. The buses weren't going through, and neither were the taxis. We risked one quick digital photograph before deciding that our chant of "we're canadian we're canadian we're canadian" might not be enough to disguise the purple mountain's majesty and amber waves of grain that tend to shine through in our speech. We hightailed it back to the Campo for gelato. Political demonstrations always make us hungry for gelato.

Well, Kristanne just told me that all my talk about war and political demonstrations is getting a tad tedious. Plus, she's worried that I'm going to scare her mom and that she'll make us come home. I'm pretty sure Kristanne's mom has yet to strike an extradition treaty with Italy, but I'm not really willing to chance it. So, how about some pretty pictures celebrating the beauty of Rome? Sounds good to me! No danger there! No reason for us to come home, now! And, Italy, if you're listening? Kristanne's mom is not now (nor has she ever been) a member of the United Nations. She's not even a country!

For those of you noting the slightly Iberian appearance of those steps at the right, allow me to congratulate you. Those are, indeed, the famed Spanish Steps, crowned by the slightly less-famed (though no less appealing) Californian Kristanne. Since I happen to know that the overwhelming majority of the Office Odyssey audience is fascinated with the Romantic poets of the 19th century, allow me to point out that Keats had an apartment at the foot of the Spanish Steps. Byron and Shelley were said to have visited regularly, the three of them lolling about, drunk on cheap red wine, remarking at length on otherwise unremarkable Grecian urns. That's Romantic poetry for ya!

Next up on our tour of the famous sights of Rome is the Trevi fountain. Most everyone knows the old legend about the Trevi fountain -- if you throw a coin in the fountain, you will one day return to Rome. The side of that legend that most people don't know is that when you do return, you are promptly issued a citation for littering in a public fountain. Kristanne found that one out the hard way. Other lesser known legends surrounding the fountain hold that if you throw a small domestic animal in the fountain, you will someday return to Rome as a weasel. Also, legally speaking, if someone happens to throw you into the fountain, you are completely within your rights to strip that person naked, dip them in yogurt, and make them run laps around the Colosseum until the feral cats residing thereabouts have licked the offender clean.

In keeping with our stated goal of bringing the best possible Odyssey experience to all you folks out there, Kristanne and I have once again been out and about trying to dig up the rare nuggets of contemporary Roman life that most folks miss. For example, did you know that Matthew McConaughey (aka, The Most Beautiful Man Alive) is currently residing in Rome while shooting his latest movie? Well, neither did I, until Kristanne told me. We've yet to sight the Bare Torso That Launched A Thousand Sighs (so dubbed for his starmaking turn in "A Time To Kill"), but we do have something of a surprise for you. Are any of you out there familiar with Rick Steves, the Backdoor Man of American Travel Journalism? He's written reams of books entitled "xxxx Through The Back Door" (where xxxx=a country in Europe) and also done a lot of PBS shows using the same name. The man has been so prolific (and successful) that his pets are currently negotiating for their own spin-off shows ("Europe Through The Cat Door?"). Last week, as Kristanne and I dined streetside on the Campo dei Fiori, our typically brilliant conversation ("Umm, Sid, you've got something in your teeth") was interrupted by a squeal from Kristanne:

K- "Omigod, omigod, omigod!"
S- "Honey, I swear, I just flossed right after the appetizer."
K- "No, it's Rick Steves, the Backdoor Man of American Travel Journalism! And it's on your face, dunderbluss, not in your teeth."

It was true -- Rick Steves in the flesh, shooting and reshooting a spontaneous scene from his next show involving Rick's discovery of a quaint water fountain. Kristanne immediately slid out of her chair and pretended to amble matter-of-factly across the square, neatly faking a double-take as she passed Rick Steves and crew. "Hey," says she. "You're Rick Steves! I love your show." Rick Steves confirmed that he was, in fact, Rick Steves, and Kristanne, her brush with fame cemented, returned to our table to finish dinner. Unfortunately, we didn't have the digital camera with us this time. Nor did we have it the next day when we ran into Rick Steves near our internet cafe in Trastevere. Nor the next day when the outline of Rick Steves' visage appeared on one of our potato chips. Nor that night when I had Rick Steves nightmares so intense that I woke up screaming about charming bed and breakfasts in the Tuscan countryside. All I can say is that I hope my prescription from the States arrives soon.

It hasn't all been brushes with fame and pell-mell political excitement in the Odyssey this week. There has also been a lot of good old-fashioned culture. The kind of stuff that Europe is always good for, being chock full of history as it is. This week, I was fortunate enough to be allowed to accompany Kristanne and her fellow students on an excursion to an Etruscan necropolis (literally, "city of the dead") and the Villa Farnese (literally, "really fancy feudal estate built from the sweat of our vassals' toil"). We begin our story in the Necropolis, if only so that I can use the phrase "We begin our story in the Necropolis."

The Etruscans were a mysterious people who predated the Romans in this area of Italy. No one really seems to know where they came from, but they seem to have been quite a lively bunch, apparently loving to gamble, party, and otherwise carouse. They also left behind quite a collection of erotic art, indicating a sensibility that any teenager (or former teenager, or Mr. Scucherini) can readily identify with. So, what a pity that the Romans (being Romans) had to kill them all.

Never slow to turn a wondrous spectacle of ancient history into a cheesy photo op, Kristanne jumped into a tomb to peek her head through the old doorway so I could snap a picture. Then, I followed by hopping up onto an Etruscan funerary slab.
(NOTE FROM KRISTANNE THE ART HISTORIAN -- No art history was damaged in the taking of these photos and this was not a disrespectful act! This entire site was open to the public and was not under any sort of restrictions preventing goofy tourists like my husband from jumping up on slabs!)

Our interests in Etruscan death sated, we hopped back onto the bus to ride out to the Villa Farnese. This turned out to be an amazing palace situated at the very top of a hill, itself at the very top of the small town of Caprarola. This was where the Farnese family went to escape the pressures of urban living in Rome. After two weeks spent dodging scooters, sucking exhaust fumes, and listening to the din of two-stroke engines, we knew exactly how the Farneses felt. Unfortunately, we don't have the means to buy a spread of several hundred immaculately groomed acres, complete with a palace, guest palace, and enough fountains to irrigate the Ukraine. That's the guest palace (or "casino" as they call it) shown to the right. Not too shabby, eh?

The guest house was nice, but the palace was flat-out amazing. After a brief lunch of a sandwich and roast-chicken flavored potato chips (they taste like chicken, in case you're wondering), we went for a room-to-room tour. Every interior wall of the palace seemed to be covered with amazingly detailed murals. My personal favorite was the map room. Each wall was covered with a map of a different portion of the world to the extent that it was known at that time (seventeenth century). Shown below is the map of Italy at the time. I had absolutely no idea that as late as the 17th century they were still using my face to represent Sicily

Well, it is pretty much high time that we introduce someone who is going to be appearing a lot around this space. You'll recall meeting Mr. Scucherini from last week's episode. Well, this week, we'd like to introduce Mr. Scucherini's main squeeze, Miss Money Money. She's all about attitude, cost be damned. While all the other girls are drinking red wine, Miss Money Money goes out and orders Frizzante, a sparkling italian white wine with all the saucy pizazz of Thunderbird.

Miss Money Money says what she means, too. Last night as we sat down to dinner in our cozy apartment, I began merrily chatting away at Miss Money Money, asking how her day was, what did she think of baroque sculpture as an expression of really way-far pre-millenial angst, and could she please pass the pasta. Suddenly, she turned to me and said "Honey, you're bothering me." Now, that's Miss Money Money -- speaking her mind wherever (and whenever) she finds it.

Interestingly enough, Miss Money Money has a spiritual fellow traveller in our old friend Jacek. Ten years ago, during my last trip to Europe, I happened to be in Barcelona, Spain, with Jacek. One mealtime, as I attempted to make conversation, Jacek turned to me and said, "Why do you have to talk?" At first, I thought this was some sort of zen koan. Why do I have to talk? However, after some meditation during which I neither heard the sound of one hand clapping nor snatched any swords from metaphorical stones, I realized that this was no koan -- Jacek was merely surly. Surly, and feeling the spirit of Miss Money Money.

We're going to close this week's episode with some final thoughts from Mr. Scucherini. This week, Mr. Scucherini has been checking out the gay scene in Rome....what's it like, how happening is it? Mr. Scucherini loves gays -- less competition for the ladies, dontchyaknow? Mr. Scucherini was appalled to find that Rome requires gays to ride specially monogrammed scooters (see the picture below). This smacks of the worst kind of discrimination -- do heterosexuals have to ride scooters reading "Straight" or "Breeder?" No way! Mr. Scucherini beseechs you to channel your indignation into action. Write a congressman or something.

Thanks for tuning in! Sorry we didn't get to Florence this week -- Kristanne needed to do research here in Rome this weekend. It's coming, though -- we promise!

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