Holy Thursday/ Thank you Deacon Matt!

Thursday was a day for sleeping in, which was much appreciated. I didn't have much on my agenda for the day other than go to class and then Mass at an American Perish that Deacon Matt told me about. I woke up around nine or so, (I'm guessing, my morning was not productive, and as such not very memorable) After my non productive morning of doing nothing, I headed into my Italian class. It was canceled on Tuesday, and this was the first time I was having it this week. Holy Thursday mass was at six, and across town; my class doesn't get out until five. I asked my professor if I could leave early to go to mass, and he told me that had to be the best excuse he had ever heard. About a third of our class showed up today (attendance in all my classes was pretty terrible this week) so 'everyone must be at mass' became the joke of the hour. Professor Maurizio let class out fifteen minutes early (without giving back our midterms) and I waited for the seventy five bus, the same that betrayed me on the way to the airport, to take me to termini station. From termini The church was a ten minute walk. I waited fifteen minutes for the bus to arrive, and it took all of fifty minutes to get to termini station, quite a bit longer than I had anticipated. I only had a few minutes to get to the church I had never actually been to before. I booked it, and arrived a minute before mass began. The church was pretty packed, and I sat in the back next to a very kind homeless man. Mass was good, I wasn't a big fan of the singing, which was pretty disappointing. The songs are one of my favorite parts about worship. The music at this church was complicated, and not difficult to follow along with, and for some of them the crowd was not allowed to sing along with the choir, which was small and difficult to hear. The man I was sitting next to had some kind of leg injury/handicap, and was unable to go up to communion. I asked if he was going, intending to offer him my arm lean on, but he made a gesture for me to go on, and I was afraid I had offended him. I was wrong. At the end of the mass he wished me a blessed Easter, and it was the sweetest thing anyone had said to me all day. It put a huge smile on my face. In addition to giving me information about English speaking parishes, Deacon Matt gave me a ton of additional info about Holy Week in Rome. On Thursday night, he informed me, the churches of Rome remained open until midnight. They had one of their side chapels decorated for the last supper, and people walk around to appreciate the decorations and pray in several churches. The first few I tried were still in mass, and although others were coming and going I couldn't bring myself to intrude. Instead I stopped for gelato (not exactly within the fasting recommendation, but I was very happy, and being happy makes me want gelato...as does being sad, grumpy, tired, cold, hot, hungry...) I made my way towards the Colosseum and Piazza Venezia, planning to walk along Corso (the shopping street) knowing there were several churches in that area. The first church I was able to go in I had visited for class. It's located between the Colosseum and Piazza Venezia, practically inside the roman forum. I went in and began my prayer fest for the evening, focusing on a few specific members of my family and friends in each church, and reciting the few prayers I know by heart. This church also had olive branches (what they pass out on palm Sunday) to take in a box outside. This made me pretty happy as I had missed mass. After ten minutes or so I moved on. The next two churches I tried of off Corso were still in Mass, but then I hit the Jackpot. I went into an absolutely massive church on Corso, and then visited the kind of catholic church I had been attending before meeting Matt. Next I turned off Corso onto Via Tritone towards the Trevi Fountain and found three more churches. These were all extremely intricately decorated on the inside. I enjoyed viewing the entire church as much as the specially decorated chapels. One church even had a full table set as if for a re inaction of the last supper, it was pretty neat. There were many people coming in to show their devotion, it was nice to see that despite the statistics you read, many Romans are practicing Catholics. I even saw some of the same people from church to church, it was a very peaceful reflective evening. After the three churches on Via Tritone I turned back down Corso and tried some of the previously occupied churches. I was successful with a few, one of the main ones, however, was closed. On my way to the top of the cake topper building in Piazza Venezia (there's a church there that Stu and I visited together) I walked by an open door under scaffolding that I had never noticed, and realized it too was a church. This one was small and simple, no crazy intricate adornments or ceilings, no frescoes on the wall. This church had plain white walls, and a crucifix above the alter. It was a nice change from the heavily decorated churches that are typical of Rome. My last stop of the night was the church above Piazza Venezia. I ended up seeing ten churches total, only two of which I had previously been inside let alone knew existed. It was an amazing night of prayer that I will remember for years to come. I really enjoyed this tradition, but I don't think it's one I'll be able to enjoy in the states in years to come. On my way home I took the tram, and entered at the same time as some very loud American girls. They were crazy obnoxious. I couldn't tell if they were intoxicated or just unintelligent. It was painfully obvious that they were American, and all the Italians were staring. I was sitting across from a girl, and we had a moment of eye contact in which we recognized each other as fellow English speakers. We had a mini conversation with our eyes that went something like this:
"Oh my, that's a great representation of our country."
"I know, we should probably keep our mouths shut to keep from being associated"
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks this is embarrassing"
"definitely not, it is not that hard to be respectful of another country's customs"
When I left the tram she smiled and said ciao, which I returned complete with a smile of my own. It was a nice encounter, despite the crazy American girls.
I ended up getting home around eleven o'clock and was greeted by Becca's excellent impression of a parent, she was waiting for me in the living room and said, "oh hello, and where have you been?" This made me giggle, and I told her she would make a great mother some day. I'm really going to miss her when we're done in May, she might be my favorite part about Rome. With her living on the east coast it's not likely I will probably see her often, if ever again. That makes me feel like crying ( I don't know what is wrong with me), but at the same time I'm glad I've made such a good friend in the first place.