Snapshots of the City TW#23

Piazza Navona:

Cafes crowd the small alleyway and we barely squeeze through. Unexpectedly, we emerge into a wide, windswept square. Too bad the central fountain has been boarded up, the soaring obelisk looks most impressive. The wind carries music. We head that direction. We squint to protect our eyes. A man behind a small fold-up table gestures wildly with his hands, a magician, possibly? Of course I’m wrong; you know how blind I can be without my glasses. A hand puppeteer, in fact. His hands move to the music, the little finger men and women dancing. The music fades and the people on his hands transform, but who are they now? A familiar song starts and instantly I know: Michael Jackson would be performing soon. Watching the hand puppeteer is a multimedia event. The intro to “Smooth Criminal” is accompanied by artificial smoke, sweet like vanilla and powered by a foot-pump on the ground. Even the finger version of MJ is a showman.

Wind blowing white smoke
I am mesmerized by hands
Captivated.

Campo Dei Fiori:

I’m meeting friends by Bruno, whose somber expression is a sharp contrast to the lively and raucous square. Little boys with accordions are standing in front of the outdoor dinner tables, entertaining tourists in hopes of earning a few euros. They must compete with the construction in the buildings above, the short pops of hammers hitting metal like playing with your first cap gun. A renegade dog escapes its owner and attacks some leftover spaghetti in the street. The owner yells at the dog as if it is a naughty child, until finally leashing it and yanking it away. A large herd of tourists pass, the alpha female easily noticeable because of her prestigious ornamentation (a Burberry umbrella) and loud voice, barking to her followers. Couples walk by slowly, whispering in each others’ ears as if a sound-proof bubble surrounds them, blocking out the madness around us all. Time to go Bruno, friends are here.

Overwhelming noise
Brings the piazza to life
Attacks the senses.

Trevi Fountain:

Cold gelato on an even colder night. Why do we torture ourselves so? We pace around the edge of the pool, eating our midnight snack. The clear blue water cascades down the marble, crashing into the waters below like a mini waterfall. Ripples flow to the edge of the fountain, adding texture to the glowing water. Look how ridiculous these tourists are, right hands above their heads, posing for pictures like ancient Roman statues.

Man-made waterfalls
Try to imitate nature
Not nearly as nice.

Pantheon:

It’s an early morning for me, as it is for the rest of Rome, I suppose. The square is nearly empty. I wait expectantly, standing before the huge black doors before me. It’s 8:29 and 55, 56, 57, 58, 59 seconds… I lose count as movement breaks my concentration. The doors open slowly, as if the Pantheon can also feel my early morning pains. It feels like the sun had gone down only a few hours ago. It was probably more obvious to the Pantheon, as its eye is much larger. I step inside the round space, cloud cover dimming the room. And as I sit and wait, I see the room brighten as more light filters in. The cloud cover is breaking and the Pantheon is slowly lumbering awake. Soon, more tourists fill this space, adding even more life to the building.

Early morning Rome
Who says buildings aren't alive?
Wake the Pantheon