Stephanie Moreland
Professional Writer & Photographer

July 23, 2007

Rome is many things, but easy is not one of them. I think this city could eat you alive if you let it---much like how I think New York and Los Angeles would be—except that English is not the first language here. This morning, I headed down to Termini to try to hunt down an adaptor and transmitter for all of my electronic accessories like laptop, digital camera, and microphone. A retailer in the US that I won’t mention here sold me an adaptor that works in every European country except Italy, so I spent money on items that would do me no good here.

Travelers: Do your homework before you go to Europe. Or, better yet, just buy it all when you get to Europe so you don’t waste time and money buying the wrong items.

Termini is a grand mass of people. It was crowded and hot, with no air conditioning (like most of Rome), and there are literally swarms of people from all over the world. I wandered around and found an electronics store and the man behind the counter (visibly annoyed by my presence and my poor attempt at speaking Italian) told me he was out of adaptors. Sigh. Where can I find an adaptor? Termini is a huge shopping complex in addition to a train station. If I can’t find one in Termini, I might just be out of luck completely. Again, I try to remind myself that travel is not always glamorous, and it can often be as stressful as anything else you can do.

To my dismay, I walked out of Termini on the wrong side (aka: the “shady” side) going the wrong direction. I walked about three quarters of a mile around the building (thinking it would round me back to the right side) and ended up four blocks up on the wrong side. Finally, I made my way back to Via Cavour and towards my apartment. Double sigh. Now, I am downright cranky and the temperature is rising every minute. I have sweat dripping down my back and collecting on my forehead and the day is just beginning. How can it be this hot? How can these people live like this with no air conditioning? The thought of going back to my sweltering apartment made me queasy. There would be no respite from the heat. There is simply nowhere to go to get a break from it. Suddenly, I regretted coming here. Yes, it was hot enough to make me regret my decision.

Cherisse, who is a native-Houstonian and volunteer at Torre Argentina would be taking me over to the sanctuary to show me around. After my second cold shower of the day, I got dressed and got ready to pay a visit to the cats at Largo Argentina. Cherisse and I had only corresponded by phone and email, but I knew she was from Houston and we were like-minded people. I was really looking forward to meeting her in person because we had planned on doing some traveling together during my stay in Italy. Cherisse is friendly, outgoing, and I felt instantly connected to her. It always amazes me that I seem to make heart-friendships with total strangers and then, within days, we wouldn’t be separated for life. I’m so lucky to have these kinds of girlfriends---it seems like all of my girlfriends are this kind----heart-centered. Cherisse has spent the past four years in Rome with her boyfriend who was relocated with his company. She adores living in Rome and doesn’t want to go back to the US, and spent a lot of time giving me helpful hints about living in Rome.

We stopped at a little café and had sandwiches with tomato and fresh mozzarella to eat.  Then, we hopped on a bus and headed over to Torre Argentina. The ruins are incredible and dramatic. She pointed to the exact spot where Julius Caesar was stabbed in 44 BC (Et Tu, Brute?) and my mind reeled at the fact that this was almost 2000 years ago, and these buildings still stood. Right behind us, there was a water fountain that sprayed out ice cold water and we filled our bottles…amazing and a lifeline in the sweltering heat. One interesting thing to note about Rome is that the water that comes from all of the fountains is safe and ready for drinking. Not only safe and ready, but ice cold and delicious. This is the same water that has been flowing through the same aqueducts since ancient Roman times- for more than 3000 years. Today, you can still see Romans holding their water bottles, hands, and faces under these water fountains to gulp down and feel that ice cold, refreshing water. It is amazing that this system of aqueducts still works the same way after this much time has passed. It makes the situation more bearable—knowing that people have survived this heat in the past.

I can’t say enough about how hot it is. Imagine Florida or Texas, and take away all air conditioning, and that’s what you get in Rome. My whole body was covered in sweat. It’s a great excuse not to wear make-up, however, and my skin has already gotten that almost-tan-even-for-a-red-head glow (despite the layers of sunscreen that I apply after every shower). Cherisse explained to me that most Italians hate air-conditioning. They think it’s unnatural, and that you will only get sick from things blowing in the air through the air-conditioning. They may be right, but what do they have to say about heat stroke?

We wandered down the steps to the bottom of the ancient ruins, where the cats are. Inside, to my great relief, there was air-conditioning (mild but better) and many, many little cats. This place was like a little oasis from the heat and masses of people in the streets above. The facility is clean and the volunteers keep the cats healthy and cared for. They have a gift shop with lots of tempting cat merchandise (the sanctuary is run solely on donations). The kittens are kept in the front (there were maybe a dozen or so) and I wanted to pick up all of them and cuddle with them. Instantly, I felt a sense of guilt for being there with these Italian cats when Elizabeth and Cleopatra, my two cats, were at home with my mom in Texas. What kind of cat-mother am I anyway? But then I remembered that my cats were adoptees, and that’s what these people are trying to do. All of these cats deserve a good home, and I will at some point be a part of that.

The room with the sick or disabled cats is what really gets to me, though. There is one cat that someone tried to poison, several are blind, and a few that are missing limbs. One of the cats (Cherisse’s favorite) was seriously abused, but is the friendliest and cuddliest cat in the place. “He still loves people. How is it possible that he still loves people after all of that abuse?” She asks me as he nuzzles her neck. Yes, these cats need love, and it seems that the volunteers are the ones to do it. I can’t wait to dig in. But today, I must get ready for my trip to Altamura for the work camp.

Cherisse is going to Cairo with her fiancé for two weeks, so I bid her “Buon Viaggio” (means have a nice trip) and I headed out to catch the number 40 bus back to my apartment to get out of the scorching heat. It was 2 PM, so the heat was at its worst. I would have succeeded in getting out of the heat had a taken bus 40 going the correct way. Oh well, one bus trip going the wrong way equals a great way to see the city (as long as you don’t panic that you’re never going to find your way back again and that you will die of heat exhaustion on the bus before someone can help you find your way….I didn’t die of course, but I panicked a bit…Rome can be overwhelming). I got off the bus, walked across the street, and took the bus going the right way. Bravo!

I took yet another cold shower and collapsed into a deep sleep (I think this is the best thing to do. It’s just too hot to do anything else. I think this is my new plan). Maria Theresa came over later to pick up the rent money that I couldn’t give her because my ATM card wasn’t working (at this point, my ATM card is only working fifty percent of the time…it’s a gamble every time I try to take cash out). We ended up talking for an hour about her life. It turns out she lived in Somalia for two years. This fact alone is not as impressive as the fact that she did it with her two children and husband in tow. She’s lived in China, Boston, Florida, Sicily, and various places in Italy. My God this woman has guts. I had to go get my train ticket for Bari for the next morning, so she walked me out that way. This was 7 PM or so, and the air was cooler and breezy…the best time to be outside in Rome. She did the double cheek kiss thingy and told me that we would have dinner when I returned from my trip. I’m still working on the double cheek kiss thingy. Is it right first or left? I can never remember.

To be honest, I was really nervous about buying my train ticket. I wasn’t even sure which line I was supposed to get in. As it turns out, I made it just in time, and they closed the line three people behind me. I tried to ignore the stares from the group of Italian guys standing in front of me. One of them nodded and smiled at me---not my type, but he thinks he is. I got my ticket and headed back down Via Cavour to hunt down some dinner.

I stopped at one of the million pizza stands in the area and had some yummy concoction with pepperoni, sausage, fungi and some other stuff. It was 3 Euros and I was in heaven. Then, just to celebrate that I ordered my dinner entirely in Italian, I found a gelateria right next to Piazza Santa Maria Maggiore and ordered Mente Gelato (mint with chocolate). I walked over to sit on the steps in front of the basilica like many other people were doing. The bells were clanging, some children were playing in the fountain behind me, and a few people were taking pictures of the church. This basilica is over 1500 years old. This gives me an incredible sense of satisfaction. If this basilica has lasted this long in Rome, than I can make it for a month. My gelato is now running down my fingers, but I don’t care. I don’t care about my tired feet, or dirty clothes, or ATM card that doesn’t work. All I care about right now is admiring this basilica that is older than every human being walking the streets of Rome. Whoever says that beauty fades with age doesn’t know what they’re talking about.