The calmness of the crowd felt somewhat strange once the processions began. The entire event was held uninterrupted and with a quiet and respect that I have never encountered in a crowd over a thousand before, regardless of everyone struggling to keep themselves dry in the on-and-off rain and intent on getting a view of the stage through the small pockets of visibility among the forest of umbrellas. Papa Francesco began, "Cari fratelli e sorelle, buon giorno. Buon giorno, ma non buona giornata, è un po' brutta (Dear brothers and sisters, good morning. But it's not a nice day, huh? It's a bit nasty)," chuckling in reference to the temperamental weather. It felt very weird to be laughing along with the Pope of all people, but it also brought relevance to all of the headlines calling him the people's Pope, drawing on his down-to-earth characteristics. He is truly a man of the people, and just being there today made me realize how important he, and his charisma, are to so much of the population. Papa Francesco continued to address the people by reflecting upon the Eucharist and how mass is a banquet that nourishes the people not only with the bread of life but also God's teachings. He then spoke of the importance of receiving Communion, specifically referencing the attendance of the youth in his closing remarks. Then priests of a diverse array of nationalities proceeded to offer the respects of their countrymen and women in attendance to the Pope and relay messages from Papa Francesco to these attendees in their respective native tongues (starting with Italian, English, Spanish, and Portuguese, and spanning to Hebrew, Polish, German, and more). The Pope then led the crowd in the singing of "Pater Noster" in Latin (we had the lyrics printed on the back of our tickets, but it was basically gibberish so most stood and listened). While it was difficult to pick up the rapid Italian spoken during much of the procession, I did understand the gist of what was being communicated. For me, having discussed religion and its role in social communities in my undergraduate sociology work, being in the presence of such devotion to this particular system of beliefs we call religion and the man who leads the Catholic church was fascinating. It was a very interesting cultural experience, and I am glad I had the opportunity to attend.

Utterly exhausted from the far-too-early alarms this morning and trying to keep warm for hours in the unfortunate weather, my friends and I decided to go for a little pick-me-up espresso spree at Sciascia Caffè. I was told that the espresso eccellente (espresso shot with chocolate) is the thing to get there, and boy was it delicioso. It perked us right up before braving the underground Metro for the first time to get to our next foodie destination to fill our stomachs grumbling for some real substance: Pizzarium. My friends had already been there before and raved about the pizza, but it was my first time and I wasn't sure what to expect from the very generic outer facade. Inside is a small display case with the day's fresh pizzas with only room for about four people to stand shoulder to shoulder across. The flavors ranged from plain margherita to pesto broccoli with guanciale and orange marmalade. I ordered a piece of the margherita with mozzarella di bufala (buffalo milk mozzarella - a recommendation I have gotten from many to try) and seasoned greens as well as a slice topped with guanciale, cabbage, and potatoes. First of all, the crust is absolutely fantastic and perfectly crunchy and yet thick enough to sustain all of the wonderful flavors on top. I'm pretty sure I will be dreaming about this pizza tonight and the cravings will begin soon after. I think I am finally understanding the flavors of Rome and differentiating between the good and the so-so, and I will give this place the honorable title of serving the best pizza I have had in Italy.

Not wanting to waste the rest of the day, we ended up taking the metro (and a few weird escalator-ride things through an underground passageway) into Villa Borghese, where we navigated through the oddly configured green space to arrive at the Galleria. We somehow managed to convince a very suspicious Italian woman at the ticket counter that were were in fact studying in Rome and taking art history courses (which we all are... we just don't have the proper Italian ID cards to prove it) and got our tickets reduced from €16.50 to €2. Major score! I had known prior to going inside that Galleria Borghese is one of the most famous museums in Rome; I did not, however, expect to be this overwhelmed. It was a sensory overload and there were so many feelings going on in those two hours we were allowed inside (sans camera, but very much worth the in-the-moment experience): sheer joy and happiness from being surrounded by magnificent pieces, awe, wonder, and wanting to cry at how beautiful the artwork was as well as being mesmerized by the presence of such famous pieces and wondering how in the world these splendid works exist. Not to mention the frescoes covering the ceilings and walls, images of the Gods overlooking us from the heavens and the painted sculptures holding up the molding to the rooms. I stood with my mouth gaping at Il Sodoma's copy of Leonardo's Leda the Swan for far too long as multiple groups passed by as my feet stayed planted, and again blocked the doorway next to Marco Pino's painting of An Apostle. My friend chuckled at the exaggerated bend in my neck as I stood in the middle of the gallery enraptured in the subjects of a painting on the ceiling, of which the name does not come to mind but it was the scene of a woman's suicide.

It was a whole other experience looking at the statues that stood in the center of these ornately decorated rooms. The way the sculpted fingers dig into the plush marble flesh in the Rape of Persephone, the strength evoked through the furrowed brows, tense calves, and breath caught between the tightly pursed lips belonging to David, and the all-too-real outstretched hand of Apollo and delicacy of the flowers blooming out of Daphne's fingertips in the frozen depiction of Apollo and Daphne make me want to cry. Half with being overwhelmed with beauty, and half with being so confused and perplexed by how all of this movement and softness of touch and skin can be captured in a medium so concrete as marble. How can one manipulate a block of stone to reveal an image so pure? I have always preferred to look at and study painting over sculpture, but having seen some of the best in the world first-hand I am now forever indebted to Bernini for opening my eyes to the complexities and emotional interpretations that can be present in the art of carving. By the time we had made our way through all of the rooms and exited the museum all of us were at a loss for words and decided to take a moment to just sit and comprehend everything we had just seen. One of my friends whispered that she had never appreciated art more than in this current moment as we walked into the grand ballroom, and I must agree, aside from some moments in the Louvre, Musée d'Orsay, and my ultimate experience in the presence of Monet's Les Nymphéas in the l'Orangerie, this was probably one of the best art collections I have ever encountered.

As I sit here at 9 pm retracing my day, I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that I've accomplished all of this within the past 12 hours. I saw and listened to the Pope in St. Peter's Square, had some of the best coffee and pizza in Rome, and feasted my eyes upon priceless centuries old masterpieces of Bernini, Caravaggio, and Raphael (not to mention walking by the Spanish Steps and Pantheon on my way home) all in a day's work. And it's only Wednesday. Living in Rome is almost a surreal experience, as I have to keep reminding myself that I am not just a tourist here on vacation but a resident for the time being (and for the next three months) with the time and abilities to continue to discover more than just the major sights and attractions that are offered in this eternal city. I am finally starting to understand why it is called that, because not only is the history entangled in the present and growing into the future, but the list of things I want to see and do is never-ending and the possibilities are infinite.