Catholics, like Hindus, know how their Gods look like (More on Italy)

Catholics are so much like Hindus. All the rituals, the religious imagery, and so on. Every Church and museum and palazzo (palace) had to have its pieta (Jesus after the crucifixion), the Adoration of the Magi (the three wise men at the manger in Bethlehem), Madonna and child, and so on in various interpretations. The churches were gorgeous. We managed to catch some highlights. We were at the Santa Miniato in Florence when the priests were conducting the evening vespers and sang the Gregorian chants. Hauntingly lovely. We were at the Santassima Annunziata (also in Florence) when the morning mass was being conducted by a particularly sonorous priest in front of a tabernacle where the fresco on the wall had the image of Mary whose face is believed to have been painted by an angel. There was a wedding on at the Basilica in Venice with the mammoth organ playing. We took a picture of the bridal couple with their family around them.

There was very little variation in the images of the Christ. I wonder who first conceived how he looked like and that became the dominant paradigm (much like the image of, say, Lakshmi, I guess). There was more variation in the image of Madonna. In some, she looked positively oriental. An early migrant? They all got the image of baby Jesus horribly wrong. Baby Krishna looks much better, in any variation.

I did look at the ‘Last supper’ by Leonardo da Vinci in Milan (allowed in groups of 15, reservations made about two months in advance) called the ‘Cenacola Vinciano.’ About five hundred years old. Da Vinci has painted three windows in the back of the room. Now, I have been to the room where the last supper took place in Jerusalem and that room has only two windows. Who are you going to believe, me or Leonardo?

I ran into a protest group of atheists and rationalists in front of the statue of Bruno at the Campo de’ Fiori piazza in Rome. There were about a dozen of them, with placards saying ‘NO God, http://www.nogod.it/) and flags announcing their group (UAAR, and some stuff in Italian.) The average age was about 60, having been brought down significantly by one 30 year old woman. They took turns to speak and tourists were all around clicking their cameras. Two vans of carabinieri (police) were nearby, more police that protestors. The only risk from the protestors that I could see was the possibility that some of them may have a heart attack wile protesting.)

We also did the Jewish quarter in Florence, including a visit to the Synagogue. The guide there was insistent that the community was well integrated locally, and spoke an Italian dialect with some Hebrew words, and followed the Italian rite. They were there from Roman times, and were neither Ashkenazi nor Sephardic (the two major ethnic groups in Judaism), he said. They were also a mixture of Conservative and Reform in their practices.

Transport: We did all our travel between cities by rail. Very convenient, with lots of connecting trains and easy to get seats even in this rush season. We did get ripped off by buying an ItalySaver Pass; for the travel we did, individual tickets should have been the way to go. Even with the Pass, we had to stand in line to make reservations anyway and pay extra for that. Chinni was very good at figuring out the local bus and metro systems in all the places.

Italy requires you to buy your bus/train tickets from the Tabacchi (newsstand/tobacco shop) which can explain why so many people still smoke in Italy. But oh! Those cities are a paradise for two-wheelers. The narrow streets and high cost of petrol does that to you. But it was a pleasure to see the range of vehicles – of all makes, and cc’s,(50 to 1200), two and three wheelers, the latter with two or one wheel in front, with tops and without, etc. What was interesting to see was the determination with which most two-wheeler riders were trying to add to the noise pollution and in wearing out their brake linings. When the lights changed to green, they would zoom even while seeing that the next light, 200 meters away was changing to red. It gave them a chance to screech to a halt and then zoom again.

One taxi driver in Rome lived up to the reputation of that genre. Getting to the station from the hotel, he first tried to convince me to go with him to the airport rather than take the train and mumbled when I insisted he go to the station. Then I realized that his meter was running higher than it should – he probably started it before he got to the hotel. So I ended up paying twice the fare I did for the journey in the reverse direction!

A fair amount of bicycles on the streets too. In Florence, the guidebook says that the city offered free bicycles for those who wanted them, if you could find the stands. I found the stand in Rome and was tempted to take one, but could not figure out the instructions about their use. (Apparently you visit an office and get a pre-paid card and then use it to release the bikes from the automated stands they are tied to.)

Rome, with all its monuments, and ruins from centuries BC gave you that sense of continuity of history. There would be an internet café in a 600 year old building. (Signs all around these cities in Italy tell you the geneology of the building.) They have started holding concerts in the Colosseum, a sports arena of over 1500 years old. You can see people jogging in the grassy oval of the Circus Maximus, where Ben Hur and his contemporaries raced chariots.

Italy is not doing a favor to its immigrants. With a falling population growth rate, it needs immigrants, but the police regularly chase the ones we see around the tourist sites. The Africans have a tight grip on the trade in spurious handbags. You see them at all the tourist sites. The South Asians are working in restaurants as waiters or in tourist stalls selling souvenirs. Some sell dark glasses, cleverly arranged on a large board, that can be quickly unfurled to resemble a table, and quickly folded to run when the police decide it was time to chase. Haroon, from Bangla Desh, trying to eke out a living selling roses was thrilled when Chinni and I flung our random Bengali phrases at him. He claimed to have landed there 2 years ago after paying 13,000 euro to a dalal who claimed there was a future in Italy where he could make money. (IMF projection is 0.3% growth for Italy this year.) He complained that there were many Bangla Deshis in town but they would not help him. It was an Indian who told him about the rose trade. (He promptly dialed Borun da on his cell phone and I had to speak to Borun and fling more phrases.) The Chinese, (oh, those smart Chinese) were running the restaurants and shops. They also have a strong hold on the wholesale trade of souvenirs etc. Recent clashes between locals and Chinese traders shows some resentment is building.

I hope I have triggered your interest. It was a great trip! So pack your bags. We’ll be happy to send you the maps and guide books.