Unlike my recollection of Florence, Rome has surprisingly few street vendors. But they all are the same – not too many wares out on the street, just enough that they can gather them up quickly at the first sign of the police...
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Street Vendors, Rome
Unlike my recollection of Florence, Rome has surprisingly few street vendors. But they all are the same – not too many wares out on the street, just enough that they can gather them up quickly at the first sign of the police...
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Upon this Rock
This morning, we went to visit the catacombs of Rome – Santa Domitillla's. I was fascinated by the whole prospect of visiting the catacombs. The guide however dashed some of my illusions/ preconceptions about the catacombs. I thought it was this early Christian hideaway but he told us that no, the early Christians certainly did not live there.
First, the Romans knew exactly where the catacombs were so it could not be regarded as a sanctuary. Second, the catacombs themselves did not support life – smell of rotting bodies would have been a real turn-off. There was not enough oxygen, they were very dark (and apparently an oil lamp only lasts 20 minutes due to the lack of oxygen). They were left strictly for the burial of the dead and some prayers would be said there but not a proper mass.
On the walls, though, were the signs of the early Christians – the fish (the greek word for “fish” is an acronym for Jesus Christ Son of God and Saviour), the good shepherd, fish and anchor, the chi-rho and the alpha and omega on the walls of the catacombs. We could not take pictures inside so this photo was taken outside.
The guide also took us around a small portion of the catacombs. The corridors were narrow and ceilings were low, and there were little niches in the walls where the bodies were put. The individual chambers were also decorated depending on the wealth of the family concerned.
We had our mass in the catacombs, in a small chamber. It was a little crowded for our group but it added to the atmosphere of the mass, that just like the early Christians, we were just together in a small room to pray and worship our Lord. Here in Rome, what I find most moving is that we reconnect to the beginning of the church, to the early Christian fathers and the early days of our Faith, creating a true sense of continuity within the church.
After lunch (another Chinese restaurant) we went off to the Vatican City. We started first with the Vatican museum but sadly we did not have the time to go through it in detail. We walked through a few beautiful rooms but the highlight was the spectacular Sistine Chapel, featuring the frescos of Michelangelo. I had seen them many years ago, prior to their being cleaned and frankly it was hard to retain an impression of this dark and dingy wall and ceiling. But cleaned of the grime and smoke of centuries, the fresh and powerful colours of Michelangelo's original painting shone brightly again. We were not allowed to take photos, but I saw quite a few people sneaking shots.
Leaving the museum, we came across this water fountain. Rome has a number of water fountains, and the water is all drinkable. I seem to remember this from my earlier visit here. There are a number of such fountains around Rome, our guide also showed us one little one which looks like just some drainpipe on the street.
Our next stop was the crypt, including the shrine above St Peter's grave, which was also near the grave of Pope John Paul II (JPII). For many the highlight was being near JPII's grave but I thought of Peter, leaving Rome to flee to safety, only to meet a stranger on the way who, in response to the question, “Quo Vadis”, indicated that he was going to Rome to die again (or Eo Romam iterum crucifigi). Peter, realising it was Jesus, turned back to Rome to face his martyrdom. No photos allowed in the crypt and we were not allowed to linger by JPII's grave.
We then spent some time in the great Basilica of St Peter's. The church is magnificent and I was immediately struck by the rays of light coming in 
through the windows in the dome (by Michelangelo), as shown in the photo here. We saw the beautiful Pieta, also by Michelangelo - my mother whispered critically in my ear, “the proportions are all wrong”. Well, yes. There is no way a small little woman (the way I envisage Our Lady) could carry the body of the Christ over her knees in that way. But hey, Michelangelo gets to break the rules. We walked around the huge church, found the statue of Peter with his shiny and worn foot, and then admired the huge dome. I had wanted to climb up the dome of the church but there was insufficient time. That's the problem with tours -sometimes you can't do the things you would like to do. We did however spend some time in quiet prayer, in a corner of the largest Catholic church in the world before leaving for dinner.
through the windows in the dome (by Michelangelo), as shown in the photo here. We saw the beautiful Pieta, also by Michelangelo - my mother whispered critically in my ear, “the proportions are all wrong”. Well, yes. There is no way a small little woman (the way I envisage Our Lady) could carry the body of the Christ over her knees in that way. But hey, Michelangelo gets to break the rules. We walked around the huge church, found the statue of Peter with his shiny and worn foot, and then admired the huge dome. I had wanted to climb up the dome of the church but there was insufficient time. That's the problem with tours -sometimes you can't do the things you would like to do. We did however spend some time in quiet prayer, in a corner of the largest Catholic church in the world before leaving for dinner. Again, the best place for links is probably this site: http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/rome. And my photos are here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/taking5/sets/72157619689628758/ . But let's end off with a picture of Bernini's famous colonnade; there are four rows of columns but when you stand on this particular spot you only see the front row:
Any lot will do
In Rome, the cars are largely quite small. Little Fiats, Renaults, the Swatch/Mercedes “Smart” car, even a little Toyota. In this crowded city, parking space is at a premium and small cars definitely have an edge. You don't even need to use a regular parking lot.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Passing by
I wanted to have a little daily post on my blog similar to the “Pooch of the Day” posts during last year's France trip. Since it was Italy, my initial thought was “Italian Hunk of the Day”, but it is not so easy to take shots of complete strangers (and the Swiss Guards were not very cooperative, shooing us away). So I thought I would focus on non-religious scenes instead.
This first shot is a bit of a cheat. After all, it is the restaurant where we had lunch on our first day in Rome. Chinese Italian food is not exactly what you'd get in the typically Cantonese restaurant here in Singapore and frankly most Zhi Cha food is a lot better. My guess is that they have huge problems getting ingredients, particularly fresh green leafy veggies. Think that was some fried lettuce we had for lunch today! Every other dish is cooked with capsicum, typically green. We are going to really miss our Kai Lan and Kangkong by the end of this trip. I was thinking at the end of the meal, if this is how Italians experience Chinese food, they are definitely not going to give up their pasta and pizza.
Pilgrimage 2009 - Rome, Rotondo, Lourdes
(Note: These posts were largely written on the road, but edited and posted upon return to Singapore. I'm backdating them so that they describe the events of the day.)
I had been meaning to take my mother on a pilgrimage for a few years – so this year we finally got round to signing up for a 13 day Rome-Rotondo-Lourdes pilgrimage.
Our group is some 27 people, excluding our tour leader and our spiritual director. Mostly retirees, but about 6 younger people (including me). In true Singapore style, I find one ex-colleague, one colleague of a cousin and the parents and aunts of my primary school classmate. As we always say, Singapore is a small place.
Our first day was meant to be an “easy” day, but I must admit I was truly exhausted at the end. Probably because I didn't sleep on the plane, beyond dozing off for a few minutes here and there.
We started off at the Basilica of St Paul outside the Walls, or Basilica di San Paolo fuori le Mura (there is another St Paul within the walls of Rome but it is an Episcopalian aka Anglican church), which was erected over St Paul's grave. Here, we met our guide, Roberta, who displays a truly impressive knowledge of church history, the popes, and Roman history. I am amazed that she can remember whether a building was built under Pious V or Pious VI or Sixtus V or Sixtus VI. Roberta herself is an elegant Italian woman – unlike the stereotypical fast-talking Italian, she pronounces each word deliberately, accompanied by graceful hand gestures. She has to speak softly in a little radio transmitter; we get headsets to listen to her. With the large number of tourist groups around each church or site, I can imagine the cacophony which would have resulted if all the guides attempted to communicate to their groups over each others' noise. So each day we wait for the aptly named “Whisper” man to arrive to bring our headsets in.
St Paul's is one of the four papal basilicas in Rome, where the high altar can be used only by the Pope or his nominee saying a mass in his place. It is full on columns on each side, with a glorious ceiling and the portraits of the popes lining the walls.
We then went to Tre Fontana – where Paul was decapitated by the sword. The place is so called because tradition has it that when Paul was beheaded, his head bounced on the ground three times and where his head hit the ground, a fountain emerged, according to church tradition. Today the springs seemed a little sluggish with the water moving only slightly. I thought of Paul at the end of his life, proclaiming “I have fought the good fight; I have won the race.”
After lunch, we went to Santa Croce – the church of the Holy Cross, which had within the relics of the True Cross, brought back to Rome by St Helen, the mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine, sometime around the 3rd Century AD. Apparently the church was built or originally converted from the house of Helen, after her death. Sorry no photos, the relics were in a very low light environment and they just didn't come out well.
Along the way, we passed the Circus Maximus, where many of the early Christians were killed by the Romans. It was next to the Palatine, the home of the Emperors (so they didn't need to go far for the executions). Today it is a green grassy plain with a raised hump in the centre. Rome is drenched in the blood of the martyrs; apparently half a million Christians were executed by the Romans, principally by the Emperor Nero.
Thereafter, we went to Sancta Scala (the Holy Stairs)
and the Basilica of St John Lateran, just next to each other. At Sancta Scala, it was incredible to see all the pilgrims going up the stairs on their knees. Don't know whether it is truly the steps leading to Pontius Pilate's rooms but the deeper beauty and truth of this place is the faith and contrition displayed by all the pilgrims who are taking this painful journey to repent of their sins. Alas, where I was concerned, the spirit was willing (well sort of willing) but my knees are weak. I would be prepared to give it a go on the last day but wasn't willing to hobble for the rest of the pilgrimage.
Our next stop was the basilica of St John Lateran, or more accurately, the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Saviour, St. John the Baptist and the Evangelist at the Lateran. The name came about because the hill the Basilica was built on and surrounding lands were originally owned by the powerful Lateran family of
ancient Rome. Constantine took over the lands to build the church, the first official church in Rome. Thus Christianity was institutionalised within the Roman Empire. This is why the church of St John Lateran has also the title of "ecumenical mother church" (mother church of the whole inhabited world). It is also the cathedral of the Pope as Bishop of Rome. So from the blood of the martyrs, rose the early church.
The popes stayed here at the Lateran basilica until 1309 when the papal court moved to Avignon; it would only return 68 years later in 1377 (see my post on the Pope's Palace here). But it was felt that the palace was in too poor condition and not fit for habitation (especially if one compares it to the papal palace at Avignon ). So they moved over to St Peter's where the pope has stayed every since.
St John Lateran has been re-built a few times over the years. It has an imposing nave with gigantic statues of the apostles on each side, each with their iconic symbol (eg two keys for St Peter; coins for Matthew). The floor is beautiful with multi-coloured marble in geometric patterns. Here, we had our first mass together as a group. Father looked at the sorry, exhausted state of his flock and kept his sermon short.
We went for dinner, checked in at the hotel and went to bed quickly.
I've not put in the links for many of these references, but more information on many of these places can be found here. My photos can be found here.
I had been meaning to take my mother on a pilgrimage for a few years – so this year we finally got round to signing up for a 13 day Rome-Rotondo-Lourdes pilgrimage.
Our group is some 27 people, excluding our tour leader and our spiritual director. Mostly retirees, but about 6 younger people (including me). In true Singapore style, I find one ex-colleague, one colleague of a cousin and the parents and aunts of my primary school classmate. As we always say, Singapore is a small place.
Our first day was meant to be an “easy” day, but I must admit I was truly exhausted at the end. Probably because I didn't sleep on the plane, beyond dozing off for a few minutes here and there.
We started off at the Basilica of St Paul outside the Walls, or Basilica di San Paolo fuori le Mura (there is another St Paul within the walls of Rome but it is an Episcopalian aka Anglican church), which was erected over St Paul's grave. Here, we met our guide, Roberta, who displays a truly impressive knowledge of church history, the popes, and Roman history. I am amazed that she can remember whether a building was built under Pious V or Pious VI or Sixtus V or Sixtus VI. Roberta herself is an elegant Italian woman – unlike the stereotypical fast-talking Italian, she pronounces each word deliberately, accompanied by graceful hand gestures. She has to speak softly in a little radio transmitter; we get headsets to listen to her. With the large number of tourist groups around each church or site, I can imagine the cacophony which would have resulted if all the guides attempted to communicate to their groups over each others' noise. So each day we wait for the aptly named “Whisper” man to arrive to bring our headsets in.St Paul's is one of the four papal basilicas in Rome, where the high altar can be used only by the Pope or his nominee saying a mass in his place. It is full on columns on each side, with a glorious ceiling and the portraits of the popes lining the walls.
We then went to Tre Fontana – where Paul was decapitated by the sword. The place is so called because tradition has it that when Paul was beheaded, his head bounced on the ground three times and where his head hit the ground, a fountain emerged, according to church tradition. Today the springs seemed a little sluggish with the water moving only slightly. I thought of Paul at the end of his life, proclaiming “I have fought the good fight; I have won the race.”
After lunch, we went to Santa Croce – the church of the Holy Cross, which had within the relics of the True Cross, brought back to Rome by St Helen, the mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine, sometime around the 3rd Century AD. Apparently the church was built or originally converted from the house of Helen, after her death. Sorry no photos, the relics were in a very low light environment and they just didn't come out well.
Along the way, we passed the Circus Maximus, where many of the early Christians were killed by the Romans. It was next to the Palatine, the home of the Emperors (so they didn't need to go far for the executions). Today it is a green grassy plain with a raised hump in the centre. Rome is drenched in the blood of the martyrs; apparently half a million Christians were executed by the Romans, principally by the Emperor Nero.
Thereafter, we went to Sancta Scala (the Holy Stairs)
and the Basilica of St John Lateran, just next to each other. At Sancta Scala, it was incredible to see all the pilgrims going up the stairs on their knees. Don't know whether it is truly the steps leading to Pontius Pilate's rooms but the deeper beauty and truth of this place is the faith and contrition displayed by all the pilgrims who are taking this painful journey to repent of their sins. Alas, where I was concerned, the spirit was willing (well sort of willing) but my knees are weak. I would be prepared to give it a go on the last day but wasn't willing to hobble for the rest of the pilgrimage.Our next stop was the basilica of St John Lateran, or more accurately, the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Saviour, St. John the Baptist and the Evangelist at the Lateran. The name came about because the hill the Basilica was built on and surrounding lands were originally owned by the powerful Lateran family of
ancient Rome. Constantine took over the lands to build the church, the first official church in Rome. Thus Christianity was institutionalised within the Roman Empire. This is why the church of St John Lateran has also the title of "ecumenical mother church" (mother church of the whole inhabited world). It is also the cathedral of the Pope as Bishop of Rome. So from the blood of the martyrs, rose the early church.The popes stayed here at the Lateran basilica until 1309 when the papal court moved to Avignon; it would only return 68 years later in 1377 (see my post on the Pope's Palace here). But it was felt that the palace was in too poor condition and not fit for habitation (especially if one compares it to the papal palace at Avignon ). So they moved over to St Peter's where the pope has stayed every since.
St John Lateran has been re-built a few times over the years. It has an imposing nave with gigantic statues of the apostles on each side, each with their iconic symbol (eg two keys for St Peter; coins for Matthew). The floor is beautiful with multi-coloured marble in geometric patterns. Here, we had our first mass together as a group. Father looked at the sorry, exhausted state of his flock and kept his sermon short.
We went for dinner, checked in at the hotel and went to bed quickly.
I've not put in the links for many of these references, but more information on many of these places can be found here. My photos can be found here.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
CATS! The Musical
One of the best things about being a scruffy student in London was the special student rates for the theatre. Or, that being a student in London gave you enough time to line up and wait for half-price tickets.
The first musical I saw was 42nd Street, with the part of Peggy Sawyer taken by a certain Ms Catherine Zeta-Jones. It got me hooked on the excitement and glamour of Broadway and I swung on one (1) lamp post on the way home.
Cats followed soon after. There is no musical quite like Cats - it is not the story (there is no story), but the music, the dance, the set and the sheer feline charm. I was pretty familiar with the music (borrowed and copied a friend's tape - yes those were the days of tapees) but Cats brought home to me what a complete theatre experience really was. Looking at the set before the show started was a good opportunity to see the details - the huge tire, up-sized so that a human on it would be on the same scale as cat on a real tire. But once the music began and the cats started slinking on the stage - the set just receded into the background and all eyes were on the cats.
I just saw Cats again last Sunday near the start of its run in Singapore. I must say I was slightly disappointed that the stage was not rotating and the set less exciting (the tire was barely visible at the back of the stage). But as each cat character was introduced to the audience, as they sang and danced before me, I was totally captivated (and singing along in my head).
And of course the cats themselves! Mostly from the poems in T.S. Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, the inspiration for my own cat poems. I have tried many times also to call my cats by three different names but I can't compete with Jennyanydots or Rum Tum Tugger (Dinky Darling and Wily Winky don't have the same ring to it). Maybe one day. My only other critique (aside from the slight disappointment over the set) was that the totally boring song, "The Pekes and the Pollicles", could have been dropped. It is after all about dogs, not cats.
Cats is indeed a musical "now and forever". I can't quite say that I enjoyed it as much as the first time (I was still a young impressionable sua ku student then) but it was still so fresh and full of fun and joy. Here are some clips from Youtube in case any one wants to watch/ jog a memory or two.
The first musical I saw was 42nd Street, with the part of Peggy Sawyer taken by a certain Ms Catherine Zeta-Jones. It got me hooked on the excitement and glamour of Broadway and I swung on one (1) lamp post on the way home.
Cats followed soon after. There is no musical quite like Cats - it is not the story (there is no story), but the music, the dance, the set and the sheer feline charm. I was pretty familiar with the music (borrowed and copied a friend's tape - yes those were the days of tapees) but Cats brought home to me what a complete theatre experience really was. Looking at the set before the show started was a good opportunity to see the details - the huge tire, up-sized so that a human on it would be on the same scale as cat on a real tire. But once the music began and the cats started slinking on the stage - the set just receded into the background and all eyes were on the cats.
I just saw Cats again last Sunday near the start of its run in Singapore. I must say I was slightly disappointed that the stage was not rotating and the set less exciting (the tire was barely visible at the back of the stage). But as each cat character was introduced to the audience, as they sang and danced before me, I was totally captivated (and singing along in my head).
And of course the cats themselves! Mostly from the poems in T.S. Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, the inspiration for my own cat poems. I have tried many times also to call my cats by three different names but I can't compete with Jennyanydots or Rum Tum Tugger (Dinky Darling and Wily Winky don't have the same ring to it). Maybe one day. My only other critique (aside from the slight disappointment over the set) was that the totally boring song, "The Pekes and the Pollicles", could have been dropped. It is after all about dogs, not cats.
Cats is indeed a musical "now and forever". I can't quite say that I enjoyed it as much as the first time (I was still a young impressionable sua ku student then) but it was still so fresh and full of fun and joy. Here are some clips from Youtube in case any one wants to watch/ jog a memory or two.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Bragging Rights
Bragging opportunities don't come frequently to me so when they do I must make the most of it.
I mentioned in a previous post that Silver Kris had picked up one of my photos from my Flickr site for its use. Well here is the Apr 09 issue featuring my photo (big big some more):
The article features the favourite flower gardens of top celebrity florists.
One florist, New York-based Preston Bailey, mentioned of course the famous Marche aux Fleurs et aux Oiseaux, Paris.
I'm feeling good!
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