3-7-2009
It was a beautiful, sunny day in Rome. Also I was free today. I didn't have to work yesterday either and tomorrow no work as well! How did this happen two weekends in a row? I met Sarah this morning and we spent the day together. We basically just walked around and talked.
We roamed the streets surrounding Piazza Venezia and eventually made our way to Trastevere. We bought gelato in Piazza Santa Maria de Trastevere and walked around the neighborhood. I found the cutest house slippers made out of felt. They were shaped to look like little mice and so colorful, but they were really for children and so they didn't have my size. I was so bummed.
After Trastevere we went to Campo de Fiori. Sarah and I really just spent the day meandering in and out of shops. The plan was to catch a train back to Frascati and meet Snae for dinner and wine. We missed our 6 o'clock train to Frascati and I began to think we wouldn't make the 7 o'clock train either. I decided to pass on dinner and parted ways with Sarah. I took myself to a pizzeria for supper. I was starving.
It is safe to say that Rome has gotten under my skin. I love this city. Sometimes I walk the streets and start to cry because I feel it is so beautiful. I think this is so cheesy, but it's true. This happened to me tonight when I was walking from the Pantheon and saw a grotto painting of the mother and child. If women are revered anywhere in the world, it is in Italy. Speaking of reverence for women, tomorrow is international women's day. Of course, I have only ever known Italians to celebrate this holiday. I found this info online ----
Festa della Donna (International Women's Day) -- March 8: In Ancient Roman times, the year ended with February, and, in fact the Latin name of that month, Ferbruarius Mensis, meant something like "month of cleansing or finishing up" in preparation for the new year. February was followed by several intercalary days to get the calendar back on track, and then the new year began on March 1, which was also the first day of spring (primo vere). March 8 was one of the first of the springtime festae, a day sacred to Ariadne, whom Thesius had abandoned on the Island of Naxos after promising to marry her if she helped him slay her father's pet Minotaur. Seduced and abandoned, she was a prototype for ancient Mediterranean womanhood. She later married Bacchus, but that was a whole new adventure.
Before the Second World War, Women's Day had been celebrated on different days in early March in several Italian cities. In 1945, the Union of Italian Women decided to hold all celebrations and commemorations on March 8. However appropriate it would have been, they didn't have Ariadne in mind. In fact they were memorializing two events outside of Italy: a March 8, 1857, strike by women garment workers in New York, which led to the formation two years later of the first women's union in the United States, and a strike by Russian women calling for "bread and peace" on March 8, 1917 (February 23 on the old Russian calendar but March 8 in the rest of the world.)
Authorities don't agree how or why, but the custom started in Italy -- some sources say in Rome in 1946 -- of men giving their wives, mothers, daughters, and other women friends sprigs of bright yellow Mimosa flowers on March 8. Women have since also started to give Mimosa to each other. The flowers are intended as a sign of respect for the women and also an expression of solidarity with the women in their support for oppressed women worldwide. This mild year some Mimosa trees in Rome were already in bloom at the end of January, so there may not be much left by March 8. Other yellow flowers also carry the sentiment, if you can't find Mimosa.
Festa della Donna (International Women's Day) -- March 8: In Ancient Roman times, the year ended with February, and, in fact the Latin name of that month, Ferbruarius Mensis, meant something like "month of cleansing or finishing up" in preparation for the new year. February was followed by several intercalary days to get the calendar back on track, and then the new year began on March 1, which was also the first day of spring (primo vere). March 8 was one of the first of the springtime festae, a day sacred to Ariadne, whom Thesius had abandoned on the Island of Naxos after promising to marry her if she helped him slay her father's pet Minotaur. Seduced and abandoned, she was a prototype for ancient Mediterranean womanhood. She later married Bacchus, but that was a whole new adventure.
Before the Second World War, Women's Day had been celebrated on different days in early March in several Italian cities. In 1945, the Union of Italian Women decided to hold all celebrations and commemorations on March 8. However appropriate it would have been, they didn't have Ariadne in mind. In fact they were memorializing two events outside of Italy: a March 8, 1857, strike by women garment workers in New York, which led to the formation two years later of the first women's union in the United States, and a strike by Russian women calling for "bread and peace" on March 8, 1917 (February 23 on the old Russian calendar but March 8 in the rest of the world.)
Authorities don't agree how or why, but the custom started in Italy -- some sources say in Rome in 1946 -- of men giving their wives, mothers, daughters, and other women friends sprigs of bright yellow Mimosa flowers on March 8. Women have since also started to give Mimosa to each other. The flowers are intended as a sign of respect for the women and also an expression of solidarity with the women in their support for oppressed women worldwide. This mild year some Mimosa trees in Rome were already in bloom at the end of January, so there may not be much left by March 8. Other yellow flowers also carry the sentiment, if you can't find Mimosa.
Yellow Mimosa flowers are everywhere in Rome and spring is in the air. It was quite warm today and tomorrow should be beautiful weather as well. Of course Mother Earth granted beautiful, warm weather in Rome for Festa della Donna! Hehe. Men in Italy revere woman. Yes, the stereotype is true. It might also be true that Italian men are generally womanizers (I wouldn't know). As a woman, I enjoy this reverence. Every time I take a taxi, the taxi driver tells me I am beautiful. Tonight at the pizzeria, the man passed my tray over the counter, winked at me and said, "Carina." Talk about an ego boost. This happens all the time in Italy. It's like a man tells you you are beautiful and you just say, "Yeah, yeah. I know."
Tomorrow I plan to wake early and head to Trastevere for the Porte Portese market. I don't think I'll buy anything necessarily, but I always enjoy a market. After that I plan to lounge at the Borghese Gardens all day. I might venture to La Villa Glori. This is another garden in Rome within the Parioli district. I hear it's beautiful and someone told me there are pony rentals there. How strange? I dunno, I just want to bring a blanket and soak up some sun. I really hope tomorrow is as beautiful as it was today.
Tomorrow I plan to wake early and head to Trastevere for the Porte Portese market. I don't think I'll buy anything necessarily, but I always enjoy a market. After that I plan to lounge at the Borghese Gardens all day. I might venture to La Villa Glori. This is another garden in Rome within the Parioli district. I hear it's beautiful and someone told me there are pony rentals there. How strange? I dunno, I just want to bring a blanket and soak up some sun. I really hope tomorrow is as beautiful as it was today.
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