Sorry for the lack of posting. I haven’t had a moment to breath, let alone write a whole blog.
This past week I spent time in Rome and Florence, Italy, places I had always dreamed of going. I never had this huge itch to travel, but the one place I had actually wanted to go was Italy. I took an art history class in high school, fell in love with the Renaissance, and always wished I could go see some of its yields with my own eyeballs.
My friends and I were taking a rest outside the Colosseum, trying to figure out what we should do next, and I did something that I rarely do on these trips. I told them that I would like to go see my favorite sculpture of all time, and if we didn’t go see it, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. My friends (pictured below), being the most kind and supportive people I could have hoped for on this trip, agreed to walk the thirty minute walk to the Chiesa that contained my happiness.
We walked for what seemed like forever (with a gelato break) and finally arrived at our destination, the Chiesa di Santa Maria Della Vittoria. The anticipation was killing me. Inside that building was a sculpture I had thought about for so long and used in at least two presentations since I got to college because I wanted to learn more about it. That sculpture is the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini. The sculpture depicts Saint Teresa of Ávila having a mystical encounter with an angel. The angel pierces an arrow through the St. Teresa’s heart, and she is filled with the love of God. The sculpture so intricately depicts her emotions. The piece does not stop at the mere sculpture, but consists of the entire room. There is sun that beams down as the rays of heaven. The commissioners of the piece are seen looking on from the sides. I love this sculpture with my whole heart, and I could not wait to see it.
I was trying to explain the intricacies of the piece to my friends as we walk up the stairs. I had my camera ready. My expectations were as high as they could be. I reached for the handle of the door, and this priest walks out. He started saying things to me in Italian enthusiastically. I nodded and tried to continue to enter, but it became clear that he was not going to let me in. I looked around to notice a number of people sitting on the stairs. The priest faded back into the building. I know he saw the hope leave my eyes. An american man walked up to us and said, “He won’t let us in. I think there’s a wedding going on.”
THE. AUDACITY. Have a wedding? On a Friday? In front of my favorite sculpture? I was so heartbroken. In that moment, I knew that I would never come back here. I would never see it. I turned to my friends who were almost as disappointed me because of how much I had hyped it up. We waited on the stairs for a while, but it became clear that we were not getting in that day. I was never going to see my favorite sculpture.
The next day, my friends and I assumed our usual morning routine of discussing our plans for the day around our complimentary hotel breakfast as we stole food for lunch. During the kerfuffle of shoving croissants into our mouths and purses, I heard them say, “and then we can stop by the Hope’s sculpture, and the go…” I did not deserve these friends. After walking so far only to see the outside of the building that holds my favorite sculpture, these people who I had only met a few weeks ago were willing to walk even farther to give me one more chance to see it.
After a few other activities, it was time for (another gelato break and then) The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. The building was in sight, but my hopes were not nearly as high. Someone else was probably getting married or the pope was having a private party or they didn’t allow people named Hope to enter. I walked to the top of the stairs, pushed the handle and the door opened. I was in. It was happening. Persistence had paid off.
Well not exactly.
I walked into the beautifully adorned chiesa to see an averagely large group of people standing next to one side of the room. There she was. I walked over to the group to find this:
Scaffolding. My favorite sculpture of all time was covered in scaffolding. The natural light, covered by a sheet. The spear, gone. That light that is coming through? You have the pay 50p to turn that on. I was LET DOWN. I can be understanding, but in this situation, I couldn’t be. I couldn’t believe this had happened to me.
In that moment, I remembered all of the bad things that happened to me on my trips. Having a metro door close on me in Paris. Having to leave my screening of Jurassic World 15 minutes before the end to not miss the bus. Spilling yogurt in my purse (I’m talking a lot of yogurt, people). Going to Florence on a Monday. Waiting in an airport for 6 hours. Losing my phone. I just sat in that despair, and thought about how much I regretted going on this trip. How much money I had spent. How alone I felt. How claustrophobic I felt. How badly my feet hurt. I thought about every other building with scaffolding on it. Big Ben. My brother’s school. The Duomo di Firenze. The Palace of Versaille.
After an afternoon of moping, We headed to a restaurant for dinner. We ate at a small place in a small neighborhood. There were cute dogs smiling at us. There were old Italian women hanging their clothes out to dry. There were people zipping by on Vespas. I was laughing with my friends, eating homemade Italian pasta in a place I had always dreamed of going. In that moment I remembered all of the good things that happened to me. Standing on a chair singing Don’t Stop Me Now at Karaoke Night. Watching the sunrise on Arthur’s seat. Punting on a sunny day in Cambridge. Doing puzzles with my cousins in Holland. Eating macrons at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. Winning the President’s Award. I thought about how lucky I was to have been given the opportunity to come to these places, and how much I didn’t want to leave. I forgot about how much money I spent and thought about the amazing opportunities I have when I get home. I thought about all the friends I had made. Ansley. Anna Jean. Chloe. Natalie. Grace. Max. Amber. Alex, and too many more to name.
Sometimes buildings have scaffolding. Sometimes things are not what you expect them to be, but things are always good if you let them be good. My favorite sculpture had scaffolding on it, but at least I saw it. I never thought I would see it, and I saw it. I am thankful to the people who allow me to see scaffolding-covered masterpieces in places I’d only dreamed of.
I’m excited to explore more and to share more with you. You can check my Facebook, Twitter (@HopeRouse) or Instagram (@HopeRouse) to see when I post more on the blog. If you would like to watch my trip in video form, you can subscribe to my YouTube Channel (Hope Rouse) to watch my vlogs. You can watch my most recent vlog here:
Signing off from Florence,
Hope Rouse
