Heyyyy there :)

Just a little note to let everyone know I am doing well and that I love you all!!!

Quite a few busy past weeks, and I am sure it will be the same for weeks to come. (One must get the most out of their last month in the beautiful city of Rome :)

In my thoughts in my prayers.

'I remind you of WHO?'

Greetings all, from the land where I strange encounters do, in fact, occur often. No, it does not stop at clowns.

Last Saturday night, two of my friends Rebeca, from Chicago, and Iliana, from Romania, and I were sitting around after dinner, thinking of something to do. One of the women who cleans the house for us, serves us our food, etc. came in to have a bite of dinner. I love to talk to her because she has such a kind, cheery disposition. So we begin talking about different fruit, tropical fruits mostly (You all know my love for fruit...) that come from our native countries (She is from Madagacar.) and then all of sudden she says to me, 'Hey! What's the name of Bill Clinton's ex-girlfriend??'

O.k., folks. Now, I know that sometimes I can really misunderstand what Italians have to say because they are either speaking in slang or wayyy to fast. BUT most of the time I understand everything perfectly. However, I really thought I had heard really incorrectly, like REALLY incorrectly, so I say, 'What?' and she repeats herself. 'You know, Bill Clinton's ex-girlfriend.'

At which point I realize I had in fact understood correctly and was like, 'Yea.' (What else can you say?) and she says to me, 'What's her name?'...'Uhhh...Monica Lewinsky...?', I say. And THEN she says 'YES! HER! You are exactly alike!!! No one has ever told you you are exactly alike??? Surely no one has ever told you you are alike as to not insult you, but you are EXACTLY alike!'

Of course I was really confused, but Rebeca, such a wonderful person and really strong Catholic, bless her soul, was completely appalled. ' Rocio doesn't resemble Monica Lewinsky at all!!!' And they both went on their 'Yes she does!' 'No she doesn't...' rant for quite a while.

And there you have it. Broken bed. Broken chair. Loss of keys. Use of a washing machine that I could have had to pay a lot of money for. Clowns. Monica Lewinsky. (haha)

Rome, anyone? :)

I love you all. Please pray that in the future I remind NO ONE of Monica Lewinsky. You are all in my prayers.

DON'T send in the the clowns...!

Last Sunday evening, after one of my friends returned from home from a day outing, we decided we would take a little stroll before curfew, which is at 10:30 p.m.

We took two Aranciata’s which had been bought for us from a friend, sat by the Pantheon for a bit to listen to a tenor who sings ‘everyone’s favorite opera selections’, every Sunday evening, as long as there is no rain, which might ruin his accompaniment: a boom-box (Two things: a. I love that the Italians are so not on the page technology wise as we are in the United States. This allows me to see people who still use boom-boxes, and even better, stores which still SELL boom-boxes. b. This tenor is actually really very good!! So it’s getting a really good concert for free ☺ ) Afterwards, we decided we would walk to the Trevi Fountain because it’s really beautiful at night.

Well, on our way to the Trevi Fountain, we passed a restaurant with outside seating. And because our luck is such, their entertainment couldn’t be something normal to Rome, like someone pretending to be a sphinx, a mime, or a guy who sings country western on guitar (Yes. There is a man who stands in front of ‘Basilica Maria sopra Minerva’ practically everyday and sings country. Don’t worry...Not in Italian.) Nope. Their dinner entertainment was a CLOWN. A clown. Not just any clown. Oh no! Not like the decent kind you would see at a child’s party. It was a very CREEPY clown, a man dressed in crazy clothes and make-up, who thought it was really funny to talk to all the people who were walking and play tricks on them. (‘Slowly I turn…Step by STEP!’ …I Love Lucy, anyone?) Immediately I think to myself, ‘Oh no.’ and I say to Adriana, ‘There is a clown.’ And I suggest we past by him as quickly as possible, the whole time thinking, ‘This clown is up to no good.’

Now, I know it sounds as if I am being exaggerated, afterall he was just a clown…Right? WRONG! My suspicions were quickly proven to be true. No sooner did we begin to pass him, than he decided to be finished his previous joke and yell, ‘Oh là là!’, which of course everyone who was eating outside thought was so funny! Me: Not so much. So in my mind I think, ‘I should just walk faster.’ And we do. But as usual I underestimated this clown and his desire to speak to me and my friend. As we were walking away, he GRABBED my leg! Which made me let out this giant scream!

O.k…Many people can say they have come to Italy and been accosted, especially women…o.k. MOSTLY women, by restaurant owners, taxi drivers, Carabinieri, or just any Italian male in general, but a CLOWN? No, folks. That only happens to me.

Why, HELLO there!

Wow! It’s been a while! ☺ Sending you so much love from Rome! (…And be-lated ‘Big Teresa’ Day blessings!)

All is quite a o.k. here on my part. In fact, if I haven’t been writing too much, it’s been mostly because I have been dedicating myself quite a bit to quiet. Discovering new, little places of Rome, that are in fact reminiscent of home. (It makes me so happy to know that there IS green here!)

BUT, there are many more updates to come, (I promise…)

I love you all. And as always, though I don’t have to tell you because I know that you know, you are all in my prayers. ☺ I leave you all a thought from St. John of the Cross…

“Don’t put your happiness and your delight in that which you can undersatnd or feel of God in prayer, but rahter in that which you can not understand, nor feel…God is always hidden in secret, difficult to find. Continue to serve Him, even if He is hidden in that secret, despite that you try to find Him, try to feel Him, try to understand Him. The less you understand, the closer you will be to Him.’

'Our Father who...who...who...?'

Hey there! (How is it possible for a city to be so sunny and also so cold???) I’m sure it is starting to be a lot colder back home, as I have quickly realized it gets really cold pretty quickly here as well…

Living here is such a mix because you have people coming and going from all different parts of the world (I’ve had to realize just how turistic Rome truly is.), because of which, I am able to speak English, Spanish, and Italian, and also listen to and understand French. My brain has never really functioned on three + languages before, so intensely! It is really common for you to engage in conversation with someone in English, two seconds later in Spanish, and then it always happens that someone who only speaks Italian is waiting for you to translate all that you have said in English and Spanish to them. It’s rather exhausting, but truthfully keeps your mind in check. Only, it has its downfalls for sure…

Because this month is the month of the rosary, the sisters and some of the girls living in the house get together at 9:15 p.m. every Tuesday and Thursday to say the rosary. All the different nationalities together, the sisters have decided it is a good idea to take the rosary around the world, that is to say, recite it in different languages. Last night was the night we were to recite the rosary in Spanish, and Suor Palaga, the Superior, kindly asked me if I would lead. Well, never assume things will come back to you that automatically when your brain is calculating three + languages. I begin to recite the ‘Our Father’ in Spanish, something that I recite back at home EVERY day, and then I realize, ‘My gosh…I think I forgot how to say this!’ I only remembered how to say it in Italian and English! So everytime we began a mystery, every time, I said half of it in Italian, or every time I made something up. Needless to say the next time I won’t be so trustworthy as to think my brain can do such a mix of things. Next time, I will take my Spanish book of prayers with me to the chapel.

As for all the rest, I am doing quite well. I love you all and God bless you

La Bibbia: Giorno e Notte

As I am sure most of you have heard, this week has been declared by Pope Benedict XVI 'Bible Day and Night', a project (for lack of MUCH better words) where all different types of peoples, all spectrum of the work force, of different religions, different races, get together at the church 'Santa Croce di Gerusalemme', and for 139 hours NON-stop read the bible, beginning with Genesis, ending with Revelations. What's the coolest thing about this? It is broadcast live on Italy's main public television station, RAI-Uno. Even cooler? I got to go last night.

A bunch of girls from 'Casa Famiglia' and I, along with three quite spectacular sisters (If I do say so myself...) headed out at 23:00 (11:00p.m.) to visit Santa Croce and partake in this incredible event. I don't know what I had in mind when thinking about this project, truthfully no idea what it would be like, but when I got there, it just made so much sense to me! There was a short line to get into the Basilica, as there are people coming in and out of the church (So much youth...What a beautiful thing to see), and so we had our chance to go in and sit, listen. By the time we got there, they had already gotten to the book of Wisdom (Can you imagine? They only started on Sunday!) You could see people with their bibles, listening and taking in as much information as they could, and it was surely possible to take in quite a bit in an environment made to be quiet and contemplative. To be able to share that with all the other girls was really quite wonderful, even more wonderful to see all the different people partaking in the reading of the scriptures, together.

On our way home, I got to talking with one of the sisters, a gem, and a good friend I have made here in Rome named Claudia, who studies Theology and Philosophy at the Gregorian (A pontifical University here in Rome) about how incredible this event really is. It's purpose is not to meditate on every single thing read (That's impossible, considering the time constraints, especially that we can never pretend to fully know EVERYTHING about the word of God even when we have more time. ) but more than anything, it opens the hearts of the people who went to witness this event, those who pass by and see all that is happening on jumbo-trons, and the people at home watching RAI-Uno, to be much more open to living, witnessing, and loving God's word, especially as Catholics. What a spectacular thing! And in the words of that wonderful gem of a sister, 'At some point we have to realize that God inspired and wrote for us this incredible book. If it can be read from start to finish in one week, something I can't do because it exceeds my human limits, can't I do the same in a year, at least?'

Between the unity it brings, the desire to love and understand God at a much more profound level, and even if it just opens a door of curiosity, WHAT a miracle.

Much much love and infinite blessings.

Back from Firenze...

And so, I am officially back from my trip to Florence, where I was able to see some of the world’s most increible works of art. Boticelli, Lippi, Giotto. They were all in Florence for me to see. I travelled 3 km up (and I mean UP) a mountain to visit the tiny town of Loppiano, the first of Chiara Lubich’s ‘Focoloare’ Mariaopolii. Ponte Vecchio, Palazzo Vecchio, Santa Croce, Il Duomo. All of these incredible things were there or near for my eyes to witness.

And so, on my way back to Rome, I sat there and I thought heavily about all that I have been blessed to see here in Italy. In less than two months, I have seen things I have longed to see my whole life. Things I was sure I would ‘just absolutely die’ after seeing. Seeing Cecilia Bartoli, especially. And then, as always, I surprise myself. I have to say, for the record, how hard it is for me to admit to this, because it will sound like ‘sacrilege’. Equally so, what I am about to say doesn’t mean I feel any less blessed by the beautiful events I have been able to live through. As a matter of fact, I feel as though they have been, and will continue to be turning points in my life, from which I continue to learn.

For a long time, a great big piece of my life, I had prepared for all the beautiful things I would one day see. All the countries, all the paintings and sculptures. I had prepared and thought about over and over again how I would feel when I finally had the chance to see Cecilia Bartoli. I had fawned over being able to see art such as Lippi’s in a way I can’t even begin to describe. To be cultured and finally have a ‘real’ sense of the meaning of life, because in my mind, once I saw all of these things, that were my everything, what else would matter? And then none of that happened. I went, I saw, and while there was so much beauty to see, all inspired by God, the difference was this: These things are no longer MY God.

It’s such a difficult feeling to describe. I don’t want to make it sound like any of it made sense to me at the time. In fact, I can recall sitting there watching Cecilia sing and thinking to myself, ‘Why am I not more excited? I have been waiting for this moment for so long!’ or seeing Lippi’s art and thinking, ‘Why is this painting not speaking to me???’. All of these feelings, in a way relieving, but in a way causing a great deal of artistic/emotional distress. ‘What’s wrong with me I am an artist!! I am supposed to love this so much more than I am loving it right now!’ And then I figured it out on that long train ride back home and all the time in between I had to think, to pray. ‘No. You are supposed to APPRECIATE art, not allow it to take over your life.’

And so it seems that this is one of the main things I have been given in Rome. The grace to begin to understand the place of different things in my life, and the patience to know that all the time I spent obsessing over music was not in vain, because it is from there that I have been able to slowly learn how to really appreciate God. That if you truly open your heart to God’s greatness, all other things seem so small in comparison. So so small, that you begin to be afraid and think, ‘What’s wrong with me?’. The answer is of course nothing. You are just beginning to really love what matters.

Much much love. Always in my prayers.