I spent all day today trying to get to and into St. Peter’s Basilica for Easter Vigil. From a busted motobike to a busted ankle, everything went wrong. But, before we get into that, lets back up a bit. The anesthesia team leader from the last mission in Aswan, a woman whom I had just met, overheard me talking about my travels to Rome before heading home to the States. Casually, she mentioned that she knew a nun from the Philippines, Mimi is Filipino, who now lives at the Vatican. Generously, she offered to send St. Anna an e-mail to see if any additional tickets were available for the Easter Festivities. As a side note, Rome is the Meca for Catholics during Holy Week. If you didn’t know that, Google it. Sure enough I received an e-mail from Mimi’s brother in the morning on Good Friday. She has an extra ticket and offers her phone number so we can meet up. Fast forward to 9am this morning, an hour before we are suppose to meet. Dressed to the nines because I didn’t know if I would be home before mass, I make my way down to George’s scooter parked on the sidewalk infront of the apartment building. Wheel lock off, steering lock off, key in, starter button depressed…silence…started button depressed…silence. Alright, let’s try this the old fashioned way. Kick start out and give her the old heave-ho…still nothing. Tried again, but the leather bottoms of my dress shoes slip off the peg and I land a nice gash on my ankle. Fortunately socks soak up blood quite well. Well, back up to the apartment to call Sr. Anna to let her know I’m going to be late. We reschedule for 4pm. Give the bike half an hour to dry out after the inevitable flooding it received from the 30+ attempted starts. Sure enough, when I go to put the bike back on the stand, it has come unhinged and rests teetering on half a hinge. Fortunately, there is a shop within pushing distance.
Let me state two things: 1) I hate messing things up. In case you don’t know me, I’m a bit of a perfectionist. 2) I am an acute control freak as well. These two props are setting the stage for the explanation as to why I am trying so adimetly to get the bike started.
To this point I had not ridden the metro here in Rome because I couldn’t figure it out and I was afraid of getting on the wrong line, ending up in some other part of Italy after having my pockets picked and fined by the police because I had purchased the wrong ticket and forgotten to stamp it or give it to the driver or something like that. Simply put, I was afraid of the Metro.
Back to the apartment: After about an hour of debating and the costs and benefits of walking, biking and the Metro I finally suck it up and walk out the door. What better time than the present to face one’s fears. As you can imagine, none of the above tragedy took place. And in the end, I found myself walking off the A-Line into St. Peter’s Square…two hours early.
Four PM finally rolled around and I was standing prescribed meeting place. No Sr. Anna. 4:10 – Still no Sr. Anna. 4:30 – Still no Sr. Anna. I finally walk up the drive to the Swiss Guardsman standing at his post to ask if there is a phone I can use to call a friend in the Vatican. I have to be honest here, it feels pretty empowering to walk up to a Swiss Guardsman and say, “I need to call a friend of mine. She lives here…at the Vatican.” Apparently he was less impressed with myself than I and directed me the local payphone.
First payphone was broken. Out of change…Second payphone was broken. Finally place the call and she is on her way down. Out walks a cute little Filipino nun holding a white envelope. Not only is there one ticket, but there are two tickets. The first for the Easter Vigil and the Second for Easter Mass the following morning. Both services led by Pope Benedict XVI. HA!!
Thanks, Mimi!
Fast forward to 7:30 PM and I am standing outside Church in St. Peter’s Square waiting in a line of a few thousand waiting my turn to find a seat. I have been adopted by a great couple from Birmingham, Bob and Melissa. As I would learn 10 minutes later, they have 5 daughters…two of which are single…with a wink wink from Melissa. Haha!
And this is the front of the line…
After 20 more minutes of pushing and shoving, the poor 5′ nun standing next to me was nearly trampled, we finally make it to the security check point. Now it dawns on me. There are seats set up outside in the piazza, but we are headed into the Basilica. Through the metal detectors and a few steps later, I am walking past Swiss Guard and struck by the sight before me.
Thousands of people standing in wait for the Pope…let me say that again…the Pope. So start Mass. In true Catholic form, the service was 3 hours long and everything was in Latin and Italian. We were, however, able to witness two baptisms and receive communion. Words fail me here in my attempt to explain what the experience meant to me. Perhaps it is something too personal for a medium such as this. For now, I will let the pictures do the talking.
Pope Benedict XVI
