THE ETERNAL CITY AND THE HEEL OF ITALY

The first chapter in my history book in Standard IV was on Rome. I vividly  remember the picture of a bronze statue of she- wolf suckling the brothers Romulus and Remus , and the first date I learnt in history was 753 BC, the year the city was founded on the Seven Hills by the river Tiber. In the same chapter, there were accounts of the gallant  Horatius repulsing an Etruscan attack under Larspor Sena  ( a name I found funny enough never to forget ) with  just two more comrade in arms across the narrow entrance of the Pons Sublicius ,  the bridge across Tiber, allowing enough time to his army to cut down the bridge after which the three dived into the Tiber to scamper back.

There were a large number of reasons to know more about Rome later on,  not just on account of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar in ICSE or Roman history being  part of syllabi of my Intermediate and Graduation studies , but also in no small measure to the comics of Goscinny. Rome comes back to us in the English language :When in Rome, do as the Romans do; All roads lead to Rome,; Rome was not in built in a day. The inimitable Lalu Yadav also popularized the Eternal city in Bihar with his slogan “ Rome hai Pope ka, Saharsa hai Gope ka”.  But even if these later encounters with Rome had not taken place, the picture of that bronze statue and Horatius’s  saga of courage had left an indelible imprint of Rome on me, and it remained ever since on my bucket list.

The chance came, in continuation of a New York visit,  when I got to spend a weekend in the Holy City before I took up training  for a week at Brindisi. I flew into Rome from Casablanca on a Friday evening, and settled without much hassle in the budget hotel Silla after passing through three remotely controlled access gates/ doors ( such an arrangement seems to be quite common in the old gated structures in the area). Not to waste time,  I went out for a walk in and was soon hit by a sweaty Bangladeshi draught. There were shops on the pavement run by Bangladeshis, actually just too many of them, selling cheap shawls, scarves, hats, coats, overcoats , mufflers , and what not. What also struck me  the first evening, after being used to a relatively disciplined crossing of roads and lanes in New York with a near complete submission to traffic signs was the stark difference here. Here you crossed the roads , though not the main arterials , but quite often there as well, by a mixture of judgement, persuasion and luck-  and not necessarily the traffic signs!

It can take up to 50 euros for a guided trip to the Vatican museums, though there are provisions for internet booking for single tickets with microphone as well for 37 euros. I had booked one, but soon ran into a pretty Romanian agent ( she said her community was the largest foreign community in Italy) and was coaxed into paying twenty more to join a group. The guide Marco  did a good job, even though it was a most basic tour. One can spend weeks, going through the wonderful museums, but it was one of hell of an experience, as you come out of the wonderful spiral staircase to start the tour, though most of the time, people were taking snaps of the art de objects or selfies, and not many were listening to the guide or reading from the descriptive tablets.

The sheer splendour,  the size of the canvas, the sublimity of creativity leaves you spellbound- Raphael’s The Transfiguration in the Vatican Pinacoteca done with the chiarascuro or” light on dark” technique which probably inspired Michelangelo’s  Sistine Chapel paintings; the Loacoon sculpture group and the Apollo Belvedere Greek sculpture as you move around, breathing in the crisp air in the octagonal courtyard of the Pio- Clementine museum; the Sala Rotonda which is amazing right from the oculus in the ceiling to the royal purple porphyry basin and amazing mosaic floors;  the three dimensional effects of the ceiling paintings which wow you as you enter the Tapestry Hall but before you recover, the amazing Belgian tapestries, especially the Resurrection of Christ with done a “moving perspective”;  the Map Room whose ceiling paintings are as amazing as cartographic frescoes inspired by drawings of Dominican Monk Ignazio Dantis ; or the utterly amazing  Raphael’s The School of Athens in the Raphael Rooms of The Papal Apartments.

The last of the museums is the Sistine Chapel, as famous for being the venue for the papal election as for Michelangelo's path breaking paintings on the ceiling between 1508 and 1512 his painting The Last judgement after 1535 ( which  unfortunately obscure the magnificent Cosmatesque floor) . Apart from the sheer sublimity of the work,  which I was able to appreciate a bit more after the briefing in the Pinecone Courtyard outside the museums ( one is not allowed to take photographs or even speak inside the Sistine chapel) , I was amazed at the sheer scale of labour and discomfort it involved. Here was I, uncomfortable at staring at the ceiling for 15 minutes, and this maestro painted it just looking up, hours after hour, days, after days! That he created a piece of art which was not his original forte ( he was more comfortable with sculpture), adds to the wonder of it,  and I  realized that rivalry  ( in this case with Raphael?) is the mother of creativity !

After the museums, I went inside the second largest Church in the world, probably the holiest in the Catholic world as well,  one of the four to have been given the rank of a Major Basilica, and considered by many to be the finest piece of Renaissance architecture. I am usually amazed at the opulence that is to be seen in the leading religious edifices of most major religions of the world, and it was no different here. In front of the Church stands an iconic Egyptian obelisk ( Romans were fascinated by them, pulled down quite a few and transported them to Rome ( only about eight I guess survive in Rome) and even built many locally. As a stand alone, it is marvellous, but placed in front of the Church, it kind of obstructs the view when you take a picture of the church from behind the Obelsik Vaticano. How would a minaret look in front of the Taj Mahal?

The following day, a Sunday, the only  place where I spent some time was the Flavian Amphitheater, known famously as the Colosseum and one of Rome’s most iconic structures. It is indeed very colossal in size, but that was not the reason for its name as known today, but derived from a colossal statue of Nero built around that time. Just like a large part of the grandeur of St Peter’s basilica was funded by wealth created from the infamous sale of indulgences, the construction of the Colosseum was also funded from the opulent spoils taken Jewish Temple after the pillage of Jerusalem in 70 AD and the over 1,00,000 prisoners which provided the labour.Fires, earthquakes, pillaging and scavenging of its basic construction material, the travertine ,  are the tell-  tale signs at the magnificent ruins, famous for  gladiatorial fights, hunts, even sea battles and debatably the death of Christians, witnessed by a hugely excited crowd, inebriated on food, amphoras of wine and the spectacles. .

After encountering a very unhelpful booking lady at the Fiumicino airport  in Rome who insisted on charging for the second piece of booked luggage, despite my international haulage, I landed at Brindisi for a Civilian Deployment training. There were some interesting moments in the course, not the least the staged kidnaping and illegal hostage taking of UN officials, to prepare for hazardous missions. The United Nations Logistics Base in Brindisi, situated on the Adriatic Coast, accommodates  the Strategic Deployment Stocks of vehicles, containers, generators to be deployed in the numerous UN peacekeeping and peacebuilding Missions, the base for Information and Communication Technology deploying critical telecommunications equipment and designing applications and systems for the UN Missions, an Integrated Training Centre , the Strategic Air Operations Centre, GIS Centre, and also the Standing Police Capacity of the Police Division of UNDPKO.

But what gave a totally different dimension to my stay was Sanjeev Joshi, an Indian Economic Service officer working in the Standing Police Capacity . Of  friendly disposition, he just overtook the responsibility of my comfort, taking me around to places of tourist and culinary interests.  So Monday evening we travelled about 40 kms to Lecce whose burst of baroque leaves you spellbound, even though it was late evening. LIke most towns in this area having traditional affinity with Greek culture, Lecce is also known as the Florence of South, its local soft malleable limestone stone admitting to heavily ornate work after being immersed in milk. The old Roman remains of an amphitheatre mingle with baroque effusion as I travelled in the emptiness of the deserted cobbled streets  in the diffused yellow glow , glimpsing the Piazza Del duomo, the Lecce Cathedral with its imposing Bell tower,  a host of other buildings before finishing at Porta Napoli or Triumphal Arch . We got hopelessly lost while tracing our way to the car, and celebrated the success in re tracing it by having a lovely dinner in a warm restaurant with local red wine, bruschetta and cavatappi in cialda or fusili shaped pasta with pork, red chilli pepper and parmesan cheese.

The following day we went to Ostuni, about 45 kms north west,  and as he parked the car, Sanjeev took some pictures of adjoining shops and landmarks to help us recollect the parking slot.  We started from the Ostuni square with the Saint Oronzo’s column and started our circumambulation, around small shops and cafes ( stopped for a coffee at one of them) and then went towards the old citadel . This is the White Town or La Citta Bianca ,  with white walls and architecture , through a maze of lanes and bylanes , houses with small baroque designs  around plain entrances and arches, spotting restaurants at unexpected and impossible nooks and corners, sometimes opening up to a burst of Adriatic shimmer afar, sometimes in cul de sacs.  From the Church of Santa Maria, we descended down to retrace our steps to the car , scanned all over for the shops and landmarks whose pictures we had taken as a matter of abundant caution, but failed hopelessly. Finally, a strapping,  just under seven footer, with a hooded cape came walking, and offered to take us back to the piazza . But he asked for money , not much , just enough for a cup of coffee. I was totally surprised.

This is the dark side of Italy- its unemployment rate is almost 12 % which is almost half of Greece but double of Bangladesh and Romania whose people have come to populate the country in large numbers. In the region of Brindisi, the rate goes up as high as 17%.Italy’s politics have been quite colourfully Berlusconi-esque, the trade unions quite hawkish and the mafia quite in command- the one in Brindisi I came to learn was Sacra Corona Unita though one colleague warned that while Lecce and Brindisi were quite safe, it could be unwise to wander away from the town centre in Bari, a port city about 100 kms away.

I have always tried to reach out to the culinary offerings places I visit, but i was spoilt for a choice in Italy. There is this nice restaurant in Brindisi called Don Angus where we went twice after walking down the seafront, through a yellow lane of graffitied walls. The beef and pork cuts are on display, you order and take your seat to be looked after for the evening by a young and attractive waitress whose smile and efficiency were not her only assets on display.  But if I had thought that I had eaten my best Italian food yet at Don Angus, I was wrong. It was to be at a restaurant on the outskirts of Brindisi, with a kind of rough village house ambience, run by the same people who ran the cafeteria at the UN Logistics Base. The antipasti bouquets are  created by every restaurant and probably by every connoisseur of food differently in different regions. The one here, after suggestions from the owner and a few from Sanjeev and Benigno, and accompanied with a lovely glass of spritz, I was in a different world. However, what took everything away from what I  had ever eaten before in Italy was the Ocean Beef steak.

Finally it was time to bid farewell to Brindisi. Sanjeev saw me off, vowing to have only vegetables for the next fortnight at least, blaming me for  all the red meats he had to eat as a price for keeping me company , wasting his waist management resolutions. The lady at the Alitalia counter was more helpful than her colleague at Rome a week ago, she didn’t  charge me for extra for the second piece of booked luggage. I finally returned to Bissau, after almost twenty days of tour abroad, to  political stasis which has been was the only activity in this country.