
I guess I'm going to see the Pope tonight. It seems like the thing to do when you're in Rome on the Eve of Christmas. I remember from a long time ago that the Pontiff said Xmas mass was his favorite. As I'm polarly opposed to many of the Pope's stances on political and social issues, including, but not exclusive to repoductive rights, I'm not sure what I think about going to a mass presided by him celebrating the birth of lil baby Jesus (Hey-suess). Though raised Roman Catholic, I have a hard time coming to any other decision that no one person is closer to god than another regardless of the number of texts one reads. This is not an issue of faith, rather, its simply a justification to dispell the banter of a guy in a pointy hat as just one man's belief and is not representative of the will of God.
Sometimes "The Church" seems shortsighted. Often times I meet people who obviously dropped or failed out of Chemistry/Biology/Physics... and decided to scorn the sciences instead of trying to learn what they have to offer. And these are the same sciences that are providing treatments that could help the Pope. Does the fact that the Pope came down with Parkinson's mean God does exist or that he doesn't, and if he does exist, does it mean that (s)he/it's not Roman Catholic?
Anyway, I'm going because its important to my mother that I go and my brother went through the trouble of going all the way to the American Embassy and picking up special tickets for us in the diplomatic section.
...
Ok, I just got back from Mass. We took a cab. Normally, you wouldn't need to take a cab, but my parents just feel safer in a taxi. In Rome, I feel safer on the train. I'm less afraid of pickpockets than street traffic with crazy Italians behind the wheel. Of course, I had to sit in the back seat. Its horribly uncomfortable for me as the tallest one in the group to sit in the smallest most cramped seat, but no one in my family seems to realize that their baby is actually the largest of the household and needs about 4 more inches of headroom than the rest of them. It seems it my lot to sit in the back when it comes to my family. Of course, when it comes to lugging my parents 240 pounds of suitcases up the stairs then I'm A#1 on their list of subjugates. Fortunately, my brother has the ability to listen and appreciate what one says. My parents wanted to stay in line to get into mass. I was really annoyed by the overemphatically exhuburant Roman Catholic teens who were ahead of us who kept cheering for "Papa" and clapping. Regardless of the line, I wanted to be away from them... really far away. I appreciate lines... I really do, but not under these circumstances. Though disregarded by my parents, my plan of cutting in line was reintroduced by my brother which received a much better reception. We usurped three quarters of the line and we were actually able to get seats with a view of the Pope from "off stage left"... I'm not sure, should it be called off alter left?... whatever.
We sat around for a while. I was offered a candy from a former diplomat's wife from Panama which looked like a small piece of black licorice. I innocently accepted... in my experience its generally ok to accept candy from strangers in church. I was horribly wrong about the taste of it. Was it candy? I'm not sure, but it was hard and it tasted something between earwax, aspirin, and bathtub moonshine. Shortly after I was told by her daughter that the candy should last through out the mass... and shortly after that I spit it out.
Finally, after alot of waiting, the pagentry of the event started. From our side view we weren't able to watch the procession, but finally after these men file in the Pope makes in there on his scooter chair. They should really have smoke shooting out the back of it... maybe a nice light show... I think the guy who used to do Phish is available.
I must say that the most impressive thing about the whole affair was the church itself. It was beautiful, but I could have come back any time during the day and looked at the stain glass windows. I thought about that when I was dazing off during the mass. I kept looking around me at all the people who also weren't paying attention from all over the world. I saw some cute girls. Is it a sin to hit on girls in church? Its possible that my parents would say no, just so that I would go to church back home. Anyway, from time to time I focused in on the liturgy itself.
I've seen plays more interesting... PLAYS!
Yes it was boring, and though snipits of the mass were in Spanish, Portuguese and English I wasn't following what was said. And when the Pope spoke... forget about understanding what he says no matter what language its in.
After it was all done it was the cattle herd trying to stampede its way through the main doors. It was a cataract of people poring out of every available oraphice, but not really as dangerously so. Its funny how people are like herds and how herds are like water and how water can be directed and manipulated. I was being pushed over chairs towards the door. I thought about the line from It's a Wonderful Life "'Here's your hat.' What's your hurry?" Its raining outside and I haven't looked up yet. C'est la vie. Some forces push you out regardless of your will.
Eventually, we walked three blocks to make it to our cab. I could hear people in the distance lighting off cheap firecrackers. Every once in a while someone would pass by me with one of those musical santa hats with lights on them. I put on my santa hat to fit in. I'm glad its more temperate than Chicago in Rome. It occured to me that I'd like to be back in Brazil for the Winter. I thought of the amateur fireworks I saw from the balcony of my brothers apartment in Sao Paulo. It looked like a small artillery war across the horizon. I'd love to be there again.