The Belmontes stopped over in Assisi, then continued on to Rome.Another long drive, and there we were in Assisi. The very place where Saint Francis and Saint Claire decided they wanted to dedicate their lives to God. Too bad it meant that both of them broke up, since before then they were going steady, but God, not love, comes first. At least that was the way they saw it. After a lot of walking uphill and downhill, and visiting a few shops here and there, we finally arrived at the Basilica of Santa Chiara. Pretty decent, as basilicas go, but the only interesting thing to be found there was Saint Claire’s body. We initially thought that the body was a mannequin, since her toenails seemed to be the same color as her feet and her skin was waxy, but later on it was discovered that it was the actual body of Saint Claire. The waxy look apparently was part of the preservation process. The Basilica of San Francesco was a lot more interesting. We were guided by a Filipino friar around the basilica, and he was pretty happy to see his fellow countrymen in Italy. We saw lots of Saint Francis’ personal items, such as his
sando na butas-butas,
lampin, and teeth. The tomb was OK, I guess, but Saint Claire’s tomb was better because she was on display. In the basilica, we saw the only known actual portrait of Saint Francis on the wall. He really didn’t look very saintly to me. My class advisor looks a lot more saintly whenever she launches off into another one of her inane lectures. Anyway, the friar had earlier said that the only thing he didn’t like about his friarhood was his isolation. It was nothing racial, only that most friars get very lonely and don’t have anyone to talk to most of the time, when they weren’t saying their prayers. But he was so disciplined, that he departed as soon as our tour was finished without giving a chance for any small talk. He had to do his laundry, he said. What a friar. On the way back to the coach, we stopped by several interesting shops which sold stuff like intricately designed chess pieces, swords, crossbows, model Renaissance guns, and items from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Who would have expected LOTR memorabilia in a place like Assisi?
The Belmonte clan visit Vatican City, and weren‘t allowed to kneel and pray by the tomb of Pope John Paul II.Vatican City is probably the only city in the world where people have to line up to get into it. We woke up extra early just so we could stand in line for quite a long time. Near the entrance to the walled city of Pope Ratzinger was posted several signs, stating in several languages that it is illegal for ladies to wear mini-skirts and halter tops. Boy, I wonder if there is any rule about men wearing it inside. Our first stop was the Sistine Chapel. Now, Michelangelo was never really a painter, he was a sculptor. And we were all stupefied at the ceiling. (At least we young bloods who had never seen it before were, as opposed to our ageing, graying parents.) I swear, I even managed to obtain a stiff neck as a result of constantly gazing up at the ceiling. After what seemed to be an eternity, I managed to swivel my head to the side to take a look at the Last Judgement. Michelangelo painted the ceiling and the Last Judgement twenty years apart, and the similarities between them were pretty big. However, the Last Judgement seemed a lot more intimidating. Next on the itinerary: St. Peter’s Basilica. First let me give the basic hierarchy of Roman Catholic places of worship: The smallest and humblest of them all are the chapels. The churches come up next, followed by cathedrals, and finally the mighty, macho basilicas. St. Peter’s Basilica is the mightiest and most macho basilica in the world, and it was supposedly erected where St. Peter got nailed upside down on a cross. As soon as I entered this place, I immediately got the feeling that I was small and insignificant. The enormity of it all just overwhelming. There were some words in Latin on the ceiling which looked a few inches tall from where I stood. Our guide, Judy, said that they were actually six feet tall. The statues were all tremendously big, too. There were a few embalmed popes scattered here and there in their glass cases underneath some of the statues, too. Unlike St. Claire, these ones looked authentic. A few hastily said prayers later, we all trooped down to the vault where the dead popes were buried and where Saint Peter’s shrine was located. So there we were, walking among the remains of some of the world’s most powerful and influential rulers. We caught sight of a very long line, and assumed correctly that it was the resting place of Pope John Paul II. We also assumed that we could stop, kneel down, and pray at his corpse, and the reason the line was long was because many people were stopping to pray. On that account, we were wrong. Terribly wrong. The line was long because there were just so many people, and it was a constantly moving line. You could only catch a glimpse of his tombstone, and then security would tell you to move along so the people behind you could get a glimpse too. The only people allowed to stop and pray were nuns, priests, and monks. Tough luck for us and everyone else, I guess. One last thing I must add about St. Peter’s Basilica is that later in the day, the Colosseum simply didn’t seem so big after St. Peter’s Basilica. The fact that it was raining and we were all cowering underneath our umbrellas didn’t help a bit. But as soon as it dropped to a leisurely drizzle, and we emerged from our protective
payongs, the Colosseum wasn’t so small after all. And if you stood in the middle, you could almost imagine what it was like to be surrounded by lions trying to bite your balls off, with the crowd cheering wildly while you tried to be the last Christian eaten alive. After visiting the Circus Maximus and the remains of Nero’s palace, we ate in a cozy little Italian restaurant and were serenaded by a bunch of people singing Italian opera songs. I also discovered that my dad told the funniest pope jokes.
