It's somewhat surreal living in Rome, surrounded by thousands of years of history and a vibrant culture that never gets boring. Everywhere I look, the juxtaposition between archaic and modern is apparent. The Ara Pacis, an altar dating from before the birth of Christ, is enclosed in a beaming glass structure, the result of modern architectural minds. Walking down the street, I encounter row after row of cramped, though quaint, apartment buildings, which, with their bronzy earthen roof tiles, warm hues, and sturdy wooden shutters, look for all the world like the picture of urban life in another time. And, of course, in many cases, they are. The streets are narrow and crowded with scooters and smart cars, where a millenia or two ago there would have been only people and animals making their way to the market. With this in mind, I consider that the gnarled cobblestone streets remain a constant. In the Campo de Fiori tourists and locals mingle, perhaps stepping into a bar or enjoying a cappuccino on the steps of a 19th century statue. However, on weekday mornings this space is overtaken by fruit and vegetable vendors, selling their wares in much the same way as any public market operated in antiquity. Walking down a typical road near the center of town, I pass by a massive gelateria boasting 50 flavors, then, around the corner, the mammoth Pantheon appears, rising into view, monopolizing my attention entirely. On the steps of this engineering wonder, this massive time capsule, the buzz of the bustling metropolis and chaotic passage of time seems to momentarily cease. Until of course a flashbulb pops and a swarm of schoolchildren on a tour engulf my nostalgia. Oh well, back to the gelateria.
