On Tuesday we performed a play written in honor of Reggie. I would post some of it up here but Eric stole my copy because I'd added in a few lines and he wanted to type it up 'as it was performed' but he never gave it back to me. However, I may be able to recall a bit of the first scene (since I wrote it) to pass on to you...
Scena 1: Habemus Papam!
Reginaldus - (sedet, scribit, bibit) semper eadem historia est ... aliquid de ecclesia... aliquid de Pontifice decessore... bi beh bo bugggghhhhh ...(bibit)
Iohannes - (pulsat portam) Reginalde! Reginalde!
R. - ... aliquid de parvulis ... aliquid de pace...
I. - Reginalde! Ecquid audis!
R. - Au! Adsum, quid tum!?
I. - Reginalde! Conclavus TE elegit PONTIFICEM!
R. - Quid?? Stercus tauri! Tu es plenus stercoris, Iohanne. Semper joculator es.
I. - Non, non Reginalde - re vera! Conclavus elegit - (R. grunnit)
nominavit (R. grunnit)
declaravit (R. grunnit)
creavit (R. grunnit)
fecit (R. grunnit)
TE ... PONTIFICEM! (R. grunnit magna voce)
R. - Jocus est? vel error? Conclavus non elegit alterum Reginaldum?
I. - Non, Reginalde. Tu es Pontifex et Papa Noster. (osculat annulam)
R. - Ego Pontifex. (bibit) Bene, bene. Si Deus vult, et conclavus, fiat.
I. - Quid nomen tibi imponam?
R. - Quid nomen mihi impono? (bibit) ... Pius non sum... Clemens esse nolo... Leo ero!
I. - (audientibus) Habemus Papam! Cuius nomen est Pontifex Leo Decimus Quartus! (Reginaldo) Veni, Papa Leo, ad cardinales adloquendos.
(If you can't read this, learn Latin!) Reggie absolutely loved it. When Eric (who was playing Reggie) said 'Leo ero!' Reggie started cheering... it was really glorious. Once Reggie becomes pope, he sends all the cardinals to the airport for not knowing Latin, makes his 'amicas' at termini into new cardinals, changes the wednesdsay general audiences into Latin sessions, and issues encyclicals with titles like 'Boni Estote Tacetoteque' (Be good and shut up), 'Stercore Abundans' (Full of shit), and 'Nisi Fallor' (unless I'm wrong...). In the last one he declares that Popes cannot speak infallibly, and the last scene is a reporter (me) reporting on all of this and marvelling whether the decree is spoken infallibly or not.
It was really great.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Scooter Ride!
My first scooter ride ever! Wheeeeeeee!! A pair of brothers on my program has rented a scooter for the month and I got to take a ride around the block (no, I was not “taken around the block” nor have I “been around the block a few times” thank you very much) but it was AWESOME! I totally want one now – it’s like an overpowered bike. Jessie said I could have a longer ride tomorrow. So FUN!
Meanwhile, this past week has been INSANE! I have literally gone out every night this week and then some – half the time having to get up really early the next day. It all started with going to buy Harry Potter at 1am before I had to meet the group at Termini at 7am. Anyway, on Tuesday I saw George Clinton in concert, which was AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!! It was four hours straight of non-stop high-energy funkadelic soul music; the whole crowd was up on their feet and the musicians just kept switching out and kept the music going. I didn’t stop dancing for a minute. There were old original members there too – it was crazy! And the incredibly hot woman with the piercing electric violin – Bev kept saying over and over again that she wished she were a lesbian because she was in love – she and every member of the audience, male and female.
The next day I got up early and met with Eric, who was/is a member of St. Paul’s Within the Walls, the church at which my grandparents Nona and Papa were married. (funny, I guess it’s Nonna, Italian for grandmother…) Anyway, we went to the parish office and I got the book and looked them up – March 22, 1946 – and there they were, Edward C. Borrego and Mary A. Morhbacher. He: “widower” age 40. She: “maiden” age 22. How about that?
And Anna was here to visit! Yay!!! But now she’s gone (boo…). Yesterday we went to Ostia Antica and then to the beach – the beach was so great! The waves were fairly large and crashing around us, the water was cool and the sand and sun were hot. We jumped over and into the waves like a couple of giggly twelve-year-olds.
And just so you know that I’m still doing Latin – here’s the bit we read today, Minucius Felix concerning the beach at Ostia!
Ibi harenas extimas, velut sterneret ambulacro, perfundens lenis unda tendebat; et, ut semper mare etiam positis flatibus inquietum est, etsi non canis spumosisque fluctibus exibat ad terram, tamen crispis tortuosisque ibidem erroribus delectati perquam sumus, cum in ipso aequoris limine plantas tingueremus, quod vicissim nunc adpulsum nostris pedibus adluderet fluctus, nunc relabens ac vestigia retrahens in sese resorberet.
Meaning: Here the pouring soft wave stretched out to the final sands just as it was paving a walkway; and, as the sea was always unquiet (the winds having been put down), even if it did not go out to the land with white and foamy waves, nevertheless we were completely delighted in that same place by the curly and twisted meanderings of the sea, since we were dipping the soles of our feet in that threshold of the water, because in turn now the wave played out a pulse to our feet, then gliding and drawing back, it absorbed our footprints back into itself.
How perfect is that?? Anna, nos exilientes natantesque, delectatae perquam sumus canis spumosisque fluctibus.
And Matt is now in Indonesia, where he is going to buy me coffee and clove cigarettes. :)
Meanwhile, this past week has been INSANE! I have literally gone out every night this week and then some – half the time having to get up really early the next day. It all started with going to buy Harry Potter at 1am before I had to meet the group at Termini at 7am. Anyway, on Tuesday I saw George Clinton in concert, which was AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!! It was four hours straight of non-stop high-energy funkadelic soul music; the whole crowd was up on their feet and the musicians just kept switching out and kept the music going. I didn’t stop dancing for a minute. There were old original members there too – it was crazy! And the incredibly hot woman with the piercing electric violin – Bev kept saying over and over again that she wished she were a lesbian because she was in love – she and every member of the audience, male and female.
The next day I got up early and met with Eric, who was/is a member of St. Paul’s Within the Walls, the church at which my grandparents Nona and Papa were married. (funny, I guess it’s Nonna, Italian for grandmother…) Anyway, we went to the parish office and I got the book and looked them up – March 22, 1946 – and there they were, Edward C. Borrego and Mary A. Morhbacher. He: “widower” age 40. She: “maiden” age 22. How about that?
And Anna was here to visit! Yay!!! But now she’s gone (boo…). Yesterday we went to Ostia Antica and then to the beach – the beach was so great! The waves were fairly large and crashing around us, the water was cool and the sand and sun were hot. We jumped over and into the waves like a couple of giggly twelve-year-olds.
And just so you know that I’m still doing Latin – here’s the bit we read today, Minucius Felix concerning the beach at Ostia!
Ibi harenas extimas, velut sterneret ambulacro, perfundens lenis unda tendebat; et, ut semper mare etiam positis flatibus inquietum est, etsi non canis spumosisque fluctibus exibat ad terram, tamen crispis tortuosisque ibidem erroribus delectati perquam sumus, cum in ipso aequoris limine plantas tingueremus, quod vicissim nunc adpulsum nostris pedibus adluderet fluctus, nunc relabens ac vestigia retrahens in sese resorberet.
Meaning: Here the pouring soft wave stretched out to the final sands just as it was paving a walkway; and, as the sea was always unquiet (the winds having been put down), even if it did not go out to the land with white and foamy waves, nevertheless we were completely delighted in that same place by the curly and twisted meanderings of the sea, since we were dipping the soles of our feet in that threshold of the water, because in turn now the wave played out a pulse to our feet, then gliding and drawing back, it absorbed our footprints back into itself.
How perfect is that?? Anna, nos exilientes natantesque, delectatae perquam sumus canis spumosisque fluctibus.
And Matt is now in Indonesia, where he is going to buy me coffee and clove cigarettes. :)
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
crazy busy!
Oh my goodness, where do I begin?!?
Matt's visit, a trip to Formia to see Cicero's sea villa and the beach on which he was killed (as well as the possibly spurious 'Cicero's Tomb'), tons of class, a John Scopfield concert at Casa del Jazz, then a trip to locations connected to Thomas Aquinas (Rocca Secca and Fossanova), and this week Anna is here! and we went out to dinner last night, and tonight I'm going to see George Clinton and the P-Funk All Stars, tomorrow I'm visiting the church my grandparents were married in and then that evening is a secret play meeting, thursday is a thievery corporation concert, friday is a party on the top of the school, and saturday we're going to see Aida. Whew!
So -- Thomas Aquinas was born in a castle on the top of Rocca Secca, which I climbed (Reggie, thankfully, did not) and we saw the tower and the room his biographer describes in which his sister was struck by lightning and killed. The sun was hot and the air smelled of wild mint and fennel, and the path was rough and rocky. The castle was totally ruined, with crumbling walls and precarious drops, which we clambered over like goats in flipflops. A fig tree was growing in Thomas's room.
A few transit changes and several hours later (after pizza and a bus in Monte Cassino, another famous TA locale, but we didn't stop there because it was totally destroyed by the Allies and is now rebuilt), we arrived at Fossanova, at the abbey at which Thomas Aquinas died. We came early, as Reggie waited for those who had decided to swim for a bit in Formia. Incidentally, Eric, who had missed the train in the morning, was waiting for the group asleep under a tree by the church. The abbey is Cistertian, at least it was, and the church is white stone and very austere, early gothic-late romanesque. There were not one but TWO weddings going on at the time. The chapel where Thomas died is in the back, through the cloister, the garden busy with flowers and vines, florists, photographers, and brides. We sat up in the small room and read the inscriptions, admired the relief, and read about Thomas and his brother REGINALDUS, who was by his side...
Back in the church we sang some of Thomas's hymns, which tunes flowed back to us for a full seven second echo...
After a filling dinner at the restaurant on the highway, we made our way back walking to the train station, steeled against the swerving traffic by singing (thanks Jezzie Joe!) and Eric's purchase of Honey Grappa.
(All this on two and a half hours of sleep for yours truly, who had stayed up the night before to purchase HARRY POTTER at 1am in Trastevere!!!!)
Matt's visit, a trip to Formia to see Cicero's sea villa and the beach on which he was killed (as well as the possibly spurious 'Cicero's Tomb'), tons of class, a John Scopfield concert at Casa del Jazz, then a trip to locations connected to Thomas Aquinas (Rocca Secca and Fossanova), and this week Anna is here! and we went out to dinner last night, and tonight I'm going to see George Clinton and the P-Funk All Stars, tomorrow I'm visiting the church my grandparents were married in and then that evening is a secret play meeting, thursday is a thievery corporation concert, friday is a party on the top of the school, and saturday we're going to see Aida. Whew!
So -- Thomas Aquinas was born in a castle on the top of Rocca Secca, which I climbed (Reggie, thankfully, did not) and we saw the tower and the room his biographer describes in which his sister was struck by lightning and killed. The sun was hot and the air smelled of wild mint and fennel, and the path was rough and rocky. The castle was totally ruined, with crumbling walls and precarious drops, which we clambered over like goats in flipflops. A fig tree was growing in Thomas's room.
A few transit changes and several hours later (after pizza and a bus in Monte Cassino, another famous TA locale, but we didn't stop there because it was totally destroyed by the Allies and is now rebuilt), we arrived at Fossanova, at the abbey at which Thomas Aquinas died. We came early, as Reggie waited for those who had decided to swim for a bit in Formia. Incidentally, Eric, who had missed the train in the morning, was waiting for the group asleep under a tree by the church. The abbey is Cistertian, at least it was, and the church is white stone and very austere, early gothic-late romanesque. There were not one but TWO weddings going on at the time. The chapel where Thomas died is in the back, through the cloister, the garden busy with flowers and vines, florists, photographers, and brides. We sat up in the small room and read the inscriptions, admired the relief, and read about Thomas and his brother REGINALDUS, who was by his side...
Back in the church we sang some of Thomas's hymns, which tunes flowed back to us for a full seven second echo...
After a filling dinner at the restaurant on the highway, we made our way back walking to the train station, steeled against the swerving traffic by singing (thanks Jezzie Joe!) and Eric's purchase of Honey Grappa.
(All this on two and a half hours of sleep for yours truly, who had stayed up the night before to purchase HARRY POTTER at 1am in Trastevere!!!!)
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Palio fever!
Last weekend, Matt and I went to Siena to see il Palio, the horse race in which each neighborhood (contrada) races for glory, bragging rights, and a large banner (called il Palio). We met up with Ron Herzman, professor friend extraordinaire, who runs an NEH seminar on Dante in Siena all summer. Siena was out in full colors, with each contrada displaying flags, marching through the streets with drums and costumes -- of which I hope Matt will post some pictures here when he has a moment:
The Palio itself was dedicated to PIUS II! Whom Reggie can't stop talking about, incidentally. I hope to have some pictures up of the banner.
The contrada dinner (cena) was the night before. Since naturally we are all fans of ONDA (though our favorite restaurant is in the enemy contrada of Torre), we went to their dinner, which was AMAZING -- 1,100 people were served in the streets of ONDA alone (there are about 17 contrade). Bresaola with cheese started us off, followed by saffron risotto and then ravioli, then beef filet with chianti sauce and something that was like mashed potatoes, finally torte and prosecco. So good! The next day we awoke to drums (drums in the deep) and watched the parade and went to stand in the square with 60,000 of our closest Sienese friends and wait for the race. The race itself is documented sporatically from the 13th century, and documented well from the 17th century on. It takes place in the main square, which is relatively small for 10 horses and sort of the shape of a croissant. If you spread your fingers of your right hand out, imagine that the Palazzo is at your wrist and that we are standing in the center, with the horses running clockwise around the edges of your fingers for three laps. Notice that your pinky is therefore a very dangerous acute angle of which we had a fabulous view, as we were standing where your thumb is and the square dips down in the center.
And what a race! It was brutal. First of all, it is extremely dangerous from just about every angle -- there are no stalls or lanes for the horses, the jockeys are sardinian mercenaries who have been paid off (by other contradas) to knock other jockeys off the horses, and they're riding according to tradition: bareback, no stirrups, and goading the horse with a lengthened dried calf's penis. There are enemy contradas who would give just about anything to make sure their opponent doesn't win. And this year, it was extra excruciating. First, there were 2 false starts (the canon goes off to tell everyone to come back) -- so everyone was extra pumped up and impatient. The Torre horse threw a shoe in the first false start and so it had to be put back on (to which Matt said, 'Too bad - someone paid good money to have it put on wrong in the first place'). Then, at that dangerous pinky corner, there were 3 crashes in the three laps of the race. Three jockeys went down, two of whom lost conciousness on the track and of those one was trampled and dragged about 10 feet. (The papers the next day said he was alive, with broken limbs and 'facial trauma'...) Bruco won - the catepillar.
Anyway, it was pretty awesome all in all. It can seem really brutal to tourists who come visit, because it's not meant for tourists at all -- but I think that's why I like it, because it's not 'put on' for show - they're playing for keeps.
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