That gives me a strange feeling, sometimes of admiration and others of helplessness, knowing there are treasures behind this mist. One is certain they are there, but unreachable to me.
My wife, she was indeed exceptional remembering even the smallest details of any trip, meeting or conversation. It was amazing how clearly she could tell them. It was as if she had them in front of her to describe them.
I am still amazed remembering how she was able to recognize people she had not seen for years, and how just by seeing them she knew exactly who they were, and what she was talking with them the last time they had met.
A prodigious memory that allowed her to learn about any subject by just looking at it once.
She said that was because she had a photographic memory. I laughed telling her there was no camera, not even the more modern ones, that could record as many images as she did.
Ah, my wife! I do not think there was on the face of earth somebody as special as her. It is a shame she had to leave so soon, when we still had so much to share, so many trips to take… it seems that it was yesterday when I first met her, and instead now…
How strange memory is! It remembers everything when it wants to and some time after that only the void remains. If I only could keep my memories for a moment…! What is the point of all that I have lived if I cannot remember anything? At least my legacy will remain in my students.
Thanks to them and to their children, everything I ever knew will be available for future generations. I would be truly satisfied if at least one of them could apply what I have taught them, and that this could improve his life.
Well, again I digress…; fortunately I have here in front of me the diary of my trip, to remind me where I was. Let´s see, what did I write in my diary for that day?
“April 23
, 1953. Today we left at ten, and went to Paris to change planes to Rome. Upon arrival a bus took us to the hotel. A charming establishment of small rooms and somewhat hard beds, but with incredible views and an exceptional location in the tourist area. First day of the adventure, sharing a room with Arthur, who snores so much that I could not sleep.”
That is what I wrote down in my notes, along with a drawing of the sign on the hotel’s doorstep, the coat of arms of the owner’s family.
Well, I do not remember too well what happened, but what is clear is that none of us spent the night at the hotel, because we wanted to tour the city and see what was not in the books.
At the end, after much walking, we had to return to the hotel discouraged and extremely tired after a boring and fruitless night. We spent the night wandering through those dark and dimly lit alleys, with a constant dimness broken only every now and then by some small streetlamp which seemed about to turn off.
And all that walking for nothing. We could not find our intended spot, where we were assured we could find a party ambiance any time of the year.
Maybe we took the wrong street, we turned at the wrong corner, or we went in the wrong direction at some plaza, and that took us away from our destination. No matter what it was, none of us was too upset, because in any event it was a real experience to be able to see the city with other colors, favored by a beautiful and bright full moon, reflecting on the walls the crooked shadows of the statues and ornaments of these medieval houses.
Our broken dreams of that night did not discourage us to take the next morning a tour of the city center, for which we had the help of a guide provided by the embassy.
He was an older man, of strong build and with a certain bohemian air, in the way he behaved and in the colorful handkerchief he carried on his neck, bent outwards.
As far as I could remember it was the first time I saw a man wearing a handkerchief as a piece of clothing. I had only seen girls using one to cover their heads when it was too windy, so that their hair did not get too unruly.
This man was at the same time our tourist guide and he kept an eye on us. He was told to take good care of us, to prevent us from getting in trouble while we were at the city.
I think, however, that was not entirely necessary because we were all conscious of the political situation of the moment, how delicate our presence in the city was, due to its international consequence. So, we all tried to stick to the approved plan, but unfortunately everything got out of hand when we had the first serious incident of the trip.
Despite many warnings saying our presence in that place might raise mistrusts and suspicions among the people, we had not seen a single offensive gesture toward us. In addition to that, we did not expect that to affect us too much, because we were only coming for a few days to see everything, and we were following a plan. However, an incident with one our classmates, who was robbed of the little money he was carrying, caused the group to disorganize and fall apart.
Some of our classmates, including the one affected by theft, began to chase the robber, not so much because of the amount of money stolen, but because of the rage of what had happened. In addition to this, after the thief stole the money he turned towards us and started to laugh meters away, showing with scorn the money he had taken. However, no matter how we tried to catch him, all attempts were in vain.
It was not that he ran too fast, only that he knew every corner and all the ins and outs of those alleys. Also, out of nowhere a couple of his accomplices came out and got in the way, making it difficult to our classmates to run after the thief, becoming then impossible to catch him.
On the other hand, I think that those that were running after the thief had no clear idea what they would do once they caught him and had the money back. They were just reacting as a bloodhound instinctively searching its prey.
That caused an unpleasant sensation in the group, breaking the harmony we had had until then.
Some decided to go back to the hotel to call the embassy, tell them what had happened so far, and ask them for further instructions of what to do. A few pressed our guide to call the police, the carabinieri. He refused, moving his head. It seemed that what had happened was more normal than what they had told us.
The few of us that had nothing to do with the situation decided to continue with the tour, knowing that we did not have too many days before the end of our stay, and that the loss affected more the pride of that young man, who had seen his privacy violated with that theft. We then thought there was no reason for us to stop our cultural activities to tour the most interesting sights of the city.
When he saw all this confusion, the guide showed those of us who wanted to continue the tour which way to go, and at what time we should be back for lunch. He then went back to the hotel with those who wanted to report the case to the embassy.
Some of our classmates changed their minds. Although quite upset by why the guide had not called the local authorities, they decided to continue the tour with the rest of us.
Those of us that stayed were less than half of the original group. Some of us waited for those who had ran after the thief, to tell them where we were supposed to meet the rest of our classmates, and so be together before going back for lunch.
Then for us it was a real adventure. We were in a country where we ignored the language, and everywhere we looked the local culture was totally unknown to us.
Since we had already toured with the guide the most important sights, the Colosseum and the Forum, now we were heading to haphazardly see some of the many downtown churches that are throughout, like dewdrops in a countryside, waiting to be discovered by the visitors.
Those visits of a religious nature did not make much sense to me, since long time ago I had abandoned my beliefs. For that reason I found no real meaning to enter to every single church to look at altarpieces painted centuries ago, or to admire a statue or an icon, no matter how remarkable, how ancient or how very well-made it was.
However, to my surprise, the churches not only had architecture and religious relics. They also had many other elements, archaeological remains or items belonging to popular culture no matter their origin, since they had become places of refuge for artistic pieces, even with no religious significance.
An example was the visit to the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin. Outside the church there is this a great archaeological marble piece of a carved wheel with the image of an old man with scrambled hairs and a tangled beard. The image has an unsettling look and a big open mouth.
First we were kind of puzzled looking at those that were in line before us, until to our bewilderment one of us dared to put his hand inside the mouth and nothing happened. After that, we all did it likewise with equal result, not fully understanding the meaning of that, or its purpose.
Later at the hotel, the guide would explain to us that this was called the Mouth of Truth. If after putting the right hand into the opening the person did not tell the truth, he or she would lose their hand.
After that, we continued roaming around the city, amazed by the number of artistic and cultural treasures that had survived over the years.
I had heard about the medieval castles, those sumptuous and grandiose buildings, fortifications built to save the possessions of kings and feudal lords, together with the dwellers of the surrounding villages. Being there, however, was like actually living in a medieval city, where the same architecture remained in its streets, fountains and plazas.
No matter where we looked at, whether to a balcony or to a door lintel, we were impressed by the majesty of the details that had been carved, sculpted or painted, memories of an earlier glorious artistic era. Furthermore, as we found out later, the promotion of these arts was kept alive at local schools, which were considered one of the most prestigious in the world, a good place to live in, if you loved history.
But I was more pragmatic. I preferred the technology with all its advantages. The wide and straight avenues, where you could move with your vehicle from one place to another in a short time, without having to walk up and down the cobbled streets.
A different way to see and consider life. I preferred big cities, where it was easier to access all the services in minutes. I had never thought that anyone could live in such a particular place.
Getting up in the morning and seeing all that, seemed quite unheard of and disconcerting to me. I could not imagine living there as a young man, for me it would be like permanently living in a museum, knowing that everything that I touched was hundreds of years old.
Although as far as the people, the differences with us were not that many. Some of them, however, looked at us with faces that showed surprise and mistrust, which made us feel foreign there, almost as an occupying force
Maybe it was just a perception; maybe it was because our clothes were different from what you would usually see around there.
No matter what it was, with the chagrin we experienced with the theft we had in the morning, we were careful not to get into any other disagreement or similar issue, now that we were a smaller group.
Perhaps our journey had been a bit too rushed, taking into account the socio-political circumstances of that time, but it was a sign of goodwill from our academy, a sign of cooperation and exchange.
I do not know if any group of Italian students were scheduled to visit our country. I guess that would the proper thing to do, but I did not have that information.
Maybe it was part of a policy of openness with the rest of the world, I do not know. What was clear to me was that I had never visited this country, and that this was a great opportunity to do it, so I did not want anything or anyone to spoil the trip for me.
