FORTY-NINTH DAY
CATACOMBS AND GOOD DEEDS
October 31, 2005
Kimberly, the great entertainer, has decided to do
a dinner party at the Academy for some of our pals. On Sundays because everything is closed you
must use the supermarkets for shopping.
She has invited four of the fellows to join us and of course they are
thrilled because there is no food served here on Sundays. We arise to another golden day and hit the
market for the Sunday feast. Most of our
friends know that when they come to our house it is either Salmon or Salmon
with sausages. But here, we have morphed
to chicken that in these parts is wonderful even at our supermarket. We shop early and include some local wines in
our purchase. Without being a butt, let
me say it is not Sonoma. The clerk at
the register is surly at best and refuses to speak to us even in Italian. We make it out the door and return to the
cabin. Our goal is to get to the
Catacombs and back in time to get ready for dinner.
We map out our way to the San Calisto catacomb. It is on the Antica Appia, a road that was
constructed by an early Roman Emperor in 300BC. Our book says you can see the
old wagon marks of the wagons that drove this trail 2000 years ago. It is also the site of the church where Paul
met Jesus. Paul was on the way out of
town and Jesus was coming in. Jesus was
going to be crucified again and Paul, who was trying to get out of town, was
mortified to admit that to Jesus who asked him Quo Vadis? Whither goest Thou? Paul turned around and went back into Rome
where the Romans promptly killed him.
There is lots of sacrifice around this place to go with all the
antiquities. When we got to the old
road, we were prevented from entering because no cars or scooters are
allowed. This turned out to be a sort of
Roman deal because after we parked the scooter and started walking we were
passed by hundreds of cars and scooters who knew what to say to the cops. The road is narrow and rutted, old and
decaying but beautiful and symbolically represents Rome’s outreach to the rest
of the world. You could travel from Rome
to Africa, Brindisi, or the Aegean Sea on this highway. Imagine that, over 2000
years ago.
The catacombs of San Calisto were not much for me. A giant underground cemetery that has been
looted and vandalized for hundreds of years.
Still, I suppose building underground to a depth of over 100 feet that
long ago represents at least an engineering triumph. Kim soaks it in while I
hope we get out before the next earthquake.
Walking back to the Motorino along the Appian Way is special and we
easily get home in time to read, study, and cook.
Our guests are delighted with Chicken and fresh everything from
green beans to peppers, first course of zucchini pasta with Reggio Parmesan and
some decent wine. The conversation flows
around the latest architecture to the books we are reading to life in academia.
We finish with some Grappa. I can’t
believe that we could pull off this kind of entertainment in our limited
quarters and with the communal kitchen down the hall, but somehow Kimberly puts
it all together.
This morning Anne Ponti picks up my friend Mario Tellari and
me. She is the woman who has “hired” me
to take down her intaglio press. We find the press on her terrace. She lives in a wonderful 60’s apartment
building in Monteverde. It must be 5000
sq feet with a terrace that overlooks Dora Pamphilli Park. It would be like being in a high rise around
Golden Gate Park. The apartment looks
like not much has happened since she moved in and the press has been sitting
exposed on her terrace for a long time. The
deal is that I have brokered her gift to Temple U in return for Mario and I
getting the press off the terrace.
Without going into detail, it is evident that this job is going to take
some time. There is a worker on the roof
who helps us for a while, but then picks up his air drill and starts tearing up
the terrace tiles. The noise is heavy,
but we slog on and 4 hours later we pull the main roller and the job is
complete. I feel sorry for Mario, but he
is glad to get the press for Temple. It
is a win for all concerned, but I feel like I fell into a grease pit. One of the best parts of being here is the
idea that you can really be of service or help.
I am sure Anne would have somehow gotten the press off the terrace, but
now it will really have a new and useful life at a place where people will
appreciate it. I feel good.
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