Bari Cathedral at sunset. | Photo by Ines Novacic.

BARI — Although the Religio team is packing their bags to go back to New York on this beautiful warm night in the charming city of Bari, it’s far from curtain close for our adventure. And not just because all 16 of us have “big” religion stories to produce in the next six weeks — if this trip has taught us anything, it’s that there’s always another mass to attend, another relic to stumble upon, another lesson to learn. Today, the last day of our multi-bus-ride, multi-city trip, is a case-in point.

Half our entourage of 20-odd people woke up this morning earlier than planned. The heating in the Casa del Pellegrino hotel was a fickle mistress, and the morning dew of the Southern Italian mountains was quite the eye opener. By eight o’clock, the Covering Religion side of the fourth floor corridor was buzzing with murmurs and yawns, from students, professors and friends of Religio, like Daniel Arrasa, from Santa Croce University in Rome.

“Everyone is here on time,” remarked Arrasa, pleasantly surprised and somewhat in disbelief this morning at breakfast in our hotel.

“We should have had set times for breakfast every morning,” said Professor Ari Goldman, referring to the somewhat odd time constraints imposed upon us by the hotel management. We all had to eat breakfast together between half past eight and nine o’clock; and the night before, everyone had to abide by a ten-thirty curfew. (Given that our overnight stay at Casa del Pellegrino coincided with St. Patrick’s Day, as an Irish person, it was a particularly amusing rule).

Ultimately, a little extra time to sleep served us all well. We wouldn’t have gotten through the day, especially since the collective energy of the group is on its last legs, after a busy ten days. More importantly, not seeing as much as we could of Bari, our final stop, would have been criminal.

A room with a view of San Michelle is difficult to top: the beauty of the white, wonderfully romantic and lively little town took us all by surprise, and watching the sun set from a castle on a hill was something most of us will never forget.

Saint Michelle at dusk. | Photo by Ines Novacic.

“This is the moment of the trip for me,” said classmate Sarah Laing. Laing and I had the pleasure of taking one last stroll through the tiny white stone streets before the bus came to take us to the Boston Hotel in Bari.

We joked about renting one of the tine white stone houses and working on our writing in the years to come, neither wanted to leave. From the bus, Bari didn’t seem to compare. It was only after our tour guide, Anna Lisa Leve, walked us towards the historic quarter of Bari as residents slowly rose from their Sunday afternoon siestas, that we started to come around.

Bari isn’t just a picturesque city on the sea, there’s a rare kind of welcoming and charming feeling that animates every windy street, every little balcony draped in countless sheets and clothes of all sizes. Like stepping into Juliette Binoche’s “Chocolaterie” in the town of the film Chocolat. Walking towards the main piazza, to meet the rest of the class for our “Last Supper,” I took as many pictures as I could, which included one of a middle-aged couple holding hands, walking under a streetlight.

“Ah, photograph! Where do you come from?” the woman asked.

“Irlanda,” I replied in my best Italian.

“Oh! St Patrick day yes, yes! We like very much!” the man laughed.

From Leve, to our tour guide at the Saint Nicholas museum, and from the blonde woman who sold us gelato to the patient waiters who allowed us to sing song after Disney song in the restaurant after our meal, the residents of Bari have inadvertently convinced me that I’ll be back to this place.

We saw a lot during our three-hour tour: an impressive castle from the 12th century, a medieval cathedral on top of an early Christian basilica and the shrine of Saint Nicholas with pilgrims praying in front of it, complete with an extra chapel, so that Orthodox visitors can pray alongside their Catholic counterparts.

The highlight, however, was the delicious four-course meal that we enjoyed together as a class. For the first time during our trip, it was just us, our wonderful T.A. Francesca Trianni and our Professor – we’ll just say Goldman junior and his lovely girlfriend Ana were guests of honor. Sadly, Professor Stille left us earlier this morning, to catch a flight back to the Big Apple, but we thought of him as we ate wonderful quiche, pasta, fish, salad, potatoes and drank red wine.

The 18 of us sat in the same room, just like we had done every Monday throughout the semester, but it was completely different.

We’re no longer just colleagues or classmates that see each other once a week. Trianni, who will be joining the ranks of J-School students next year, is the “assistant who translates things” no more; and Goldman has become more than a professor to us, truly a mentor and friend. I think I speak for all of us when I say that this trip, and all that we learnt throughout it, has created a wonderful memory that will live on forever.

RELIGIO!

Image of St Michael inside the shrine built to remember his apparition at San Michelle. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

FOGGIA — On yet another astonishingly beautiful day in Italy (the weather gods must really love us), the Religio team was taken on a tour of the Padre Pio pilgrimage complex, starting at the two main churches of the shrine. Next, we paced through the Padre Pio museum, filled with relics protected by thick Plexiglas and surrounded by a rather impressive number of donation boxes.

Padre Pio sandal keychains for sale at the Padre Pio shrine's gift shop. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

After the excursion — which ended inside a gift shop where visitors can buy Padre Pio-shaped bottles and John Paul II-decorated pencils among other inspiring items — the group scattered around town to find pilgrims and business-owners that live off the crowd attracted by the Padre Pio “cult.”

While Nathan Vickers and Brandon Gates talked to a smiling nun who decided to relocate to San Giovanni Rotondo after her first pilgrimage there, Aby Thomas interviewed a 20-year-old Italian ragazza who decided to use her spare time to go on a spiritual journey. Michael, Teresa Mahoney, Ines Novacic and Anam Siddiq reported on local shops and hotels built around the faith in Padre Pio, and Sarah Laing and Anne Cohen visited the Padre Pio broadcast station to witness the production of a 24-hour schedule entirely dedicated to the Capuchin friar with a questionable set of stigmatae.

It was more reporters than San Giovanni had seen in a long time. After the reporting blitz, our crew left San Giovanni Rotondo for the medieval streets of San Michele, a charming little town perched 600 feet above sea level on the mountains overlooking the Adriatic Sea. It is a town with astounding views of the sea to the east and idyllic fields of grass peppered by flocks of sheep and blooming cherry trees to the west.

Our first stop was the Sanctuary of Saint Michael Archangel, a stunning church from the Byzantine era erected to celebrate the triple apparition of Saint Michael in the region. Our guide, one of the sanctuary’s monks, explained to us that the shrine is the only Catholic temple in the world that didn’t have its soil consecrated by a bishop before construction: that’s because, according to legend, the Archangel Michael told the bishop that he had consecrated the spot himself. The church was built atop a natural cave where the original shrine was placed after the visions. Its wide entrance merges into the building’s white bricks in an amazing and yet natural-looking way. The famous image of Saint Michael that sits in the main altar, made of Carrara marble and gold, was brought to the cave in 1507, two centuries after the first vision of the archangel by a local shepherd. Professor Stille was told by one of the priests that many exorcisms have been practiced in the cave lately – the demon is apparently trying to reestablish a presence in peaceful San Michele.

Sunset on Monte Sant'Angelo | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

After the tour, part of the group headed to the castle on top of Monte Sant’Angelo, a ninth century fortress overlooking a valley with a privileged view of the Italian sunset. After delving into the guilty pleasures of purchasing local goods we went back to the hotel, where a special feast would soon take place. This was Professor Stille’s last night in Italy, and he deserved an appropriate farewell party. We occupied the dining room of the hotel in our finest attire to celebrate the success of the trip and roast professors, collaborators and students alike.

After being informed that Adam Goldman (Professor Goldman’s son!), makes a living in Germany as a stand-up comedian, the group asked him for a private pocket show in the hotel lobby, which involved a couple of jokes about Yiddish mamas and a slightly embarrassed girlfriend. The performance was followed by an impromptu talent show with Missouri-related jokes by Nathan and a Religio version of white gangsta rap by “Mother” Teresa rhyming “Stille” and “Otto per Mille.” We also played a round of charades, having Professor Stille show off his rather surprising dancing skills to convey Dances with Wolves.

The night isn’t over yet, and as I write these words the rest of our gang is learning a couple of fetching dance moves (“Teach Me How To Dougie” anyone?) from Ines while drinking some fine Italian prosecco in plastic cups. Our journey is almost over.

The chapel is said to have been strategically located in the center of the Casa Sollievo Della Sofferenza Hospital. | Photo by Hoda Emam.

SAN GIOVANNI ROTONDO — Dominating the mountaintop of this pilgrimage town in southern Italy is a vast hospital with commanding views of the verdant Italian countryside and the Adriatic Sea. The name of the hospital is Casa Sollievo Della Sofferenza (Home of the Relief of the Suffering) and its location is no accident. “We think the view helps in the recovery process for patients,” said a doctor as he pointed out one tall rectangular window in the patient social area of the hospital.

The hospital was founded in 1956 by Padre Pio of Pietrelcina, a Capuchin friar who for decades had been known as a healer and miracle worker. In 2002, 34 years after his death, Pope John Paul II declared Padre Pio a saint of the Catholic Church.

While millions had made this trip before us, we were coming not as pilgrims but as journalists. We had heard much about Pio before arriving in Italy and even read a book in preparation. The book, written by Sergio Luzzatto, is called “Padre Pio: Miracle and Politics in a Secular Age.”

Luzzatto writes about the unusual nature of a faith healer establishing a hospital. “Apart from its impact on the health of the population, the Casa Sollievo della Sofferenza was a first in Italian and European religious life because its founder was after all, a miracle healer.” Luzzatto goes on to write, “Since the 19^th century, the effort to bridge the gap between scientific explanations and miracle cures had come entirely from the medical side… where miracle cures were examined using modern symptomological and statistical techniques. With Casa Sollievo, however, Pio headed in the other direction, not from science toward miracles but from miracles toward science.”

We were greeted at the hospital like visiting celebrities. The hospital’s administrator and the heads of several departments, many in their white coats, met us on the front steps. We were given a tour of the wards and public areas and stopped also to see the chapels of the hospital. “No matter how you feel about Padre Pio, it’s amazing that one man can be behind a legacy like this, it’s so rare for a little town to have something to show for itself and this hospital is attracting people from Europe,” said Nathan Vickers.

At the center of the hospital is the chapel. The pearl-colored walls of the sanctuary made the small rectangular room look larger than its actual size. As we sat on the brown benches listening to the tour guide, the sunlight shined through the mostly blue and brown stained glass behind the altar.

Both inside and outside the hospital, pictures of Pio abound.  He is depicted as a slightly hunched-over, fair-skinned man with a short white beard and dark eyebrows. The focus of much interest are his hands, which were said to be marked by stigmata, wounds like those suffered by Christ.

In 1956, Pio inaugurated Casa Sollievo Della Sofferenza, which quickly became the center of the town where shrines, businesses and homes began to populate the once barren city. The San Giovanni Rotondo Catholic Shrine, which sits across from the entrance to the hospital is said to be evidence that the healing spirit and body cannot be divided, welcomes around four million tourists and pilgrims annually. The hospital alone has over 2,500 staff members with just over one thousand hospital beds.

In a city where the Catholic faith and human health are mutually important, the tensions between modern medicine and faith are played out. Domenico Crupi, the vice president and general director of the hospital, said that even though abortion is legal in Italy, no abortions are performed at Sollievo Della Sofferenza. No contraceptives are disbursed either, he said. “We don’t do abortions but the state doesn’t tell us what we can and cannot do.”

While other Italian hospitals may be under government pressure to conform, Casa Sollievo Della Sofferenza has a special status among Italian hospitals. The medical center is supported and run by the Vatican and often receives substantial donations from adherents of Pio as well as patrons. In fact, it is said that even at the time of his death, Pio was resentful of the Italian bureaucracy. According to Bernard Ruffin’s, “Padre Pio: The True Story,” in 1948 the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitations Administration gave 400 million lira (approx. $738,607 USD) for the construction of the hospital. However, the money was paid to the Italian government. “To Padre Pio’s immense rage and stupefaction, the Italian government passed only two hundred fifty million lire to the Casa,” wrote Ruffins. Pio considered the act by the government as robbery.

On our visit, we saw how the Catholic faith is integrated into the treatment. We met a Capuchin monk who is the head of the chaplains in the hospital. His welcoming smile grabbed the attention of many of us, prompting everyone to put down their cameras and listen as the petite fair skinned man with a long white beard and long brown tunic told us about his hospital duties. On one floor, we saw a nun in a white ankle-length dress singing prayers and swinging a rosary as she paced through the halls. As the tour continued through the hospital, Brandon Gates stopped to take a few photos of the nun. “It was interesting to see the her walk down the hall praying for the residents in the hospital, simply because people tend not to focus so much on religion when they are in a hospital,” said Brandon “Usually there is a conflict between religion and science but at this hospital there was the merging of the two.”

A street view in Naples. | Photo by Aby Thomas.

NAPLES – “It smells really nice. I think.” Sarah Laing’s comment says it all: Naples hit us like a smack in the face.

With a sigh of longing and of slight relief, our traveling circus left the Eternal City bright and early this morning. After piling onto the bus, those of us who had taken advantage of our last night in Rome – maybe a little overenthusiastically – took the opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep.

We arrived in Naples around noon, and reveled over the unexpected luxury of our hotel. Apparently, large bathrooms do exist in Europe. There is no rest for the weary, so we dropped off our luggage and went off on a walking tour of the city with Angelo, our guide and a native of nearby Pompeii.

Naples makes Rome look almost organized. Architecture, culture, religion; nothing is coherent.

Angelo, our tour guide, demonstrates how the remains of the ancient Greek city of Neapolis still sits under Napoli. | Photo by Anam Siddiq.

On one s­treet alone, Angelo pointed out a French-style Gothic church, a Renaissance building, a church from the Baroque era and one from the 7^th century, built with recycled bricks and a cornice from a Roman temple. Angelo was delighted by the contrasts. “I love Napoli!” he exclaimed, almost getting hit by a car (nearly inevitable in the narrow streets). “You have to be very flexible here,” he laughed.

Religion in Naples is as supple as its architecture. According to Angelo, the city holds the highest concentration of churches in Italy, but local flavors of superstition remain. Walking towards our next appointment, we passed the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, built on the site of a temple honoring the twin Roman gods, Castor and Pollux. Two statues framed the entrance to the church, representing Saint Peter and Saint Paul. “The bodies are of Castor and Pollux!” Angelo explained. “Here you see the mixing of the religions.”

We continued towards the Church of San Gregorio Armano, a convent that used to house an order of cloistered nuns, now a school. After wandering the narrow streets filled with fish vendors, pastry shops, bookstores and hanging laundry, we now entered an inner courtyard garden filled with lemon trees and lush flowers. “A city within the city,” Angelo called it. We were led into the choir balcony, and were met with a Rococo enthusiast’s idea of heaven. There was not an inch of wall, ceiling or floor not covered in gold paint, carvings, paintings or mosaic. To use Angelo’s words, “It’s so heavy that it’s almost falling on us.”

Though our group of brave travelers was starting to feel the strain of sleeplessness, we powered on to the Basilica of San Lorenzo Maggiore. The 14^th century church is built on top of an earlier 7^th century church, which itself was built over a Roman market.  We descended to the depths of Roman street level to visit the incredibly preserved ruins of the ancient three-story marketplace.

Miniatures for sale at various shops scattered across the city. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

On the last leg of the tour, we walked down a narrow street filled on both sides with pottery vendors, selling anything from “cornettos,” or good-luck charms, to tambourines bearing former Italian president Silvio Berlusconi’s smiling face and even an Obama figurine or two.

Our group fianlly parted ways in front of the Church of the New Jesus, a medieval palace converted into a Jesuit church in the 16^th century. The pyramid-like stones of the façade were engraved with unusual symbols – “music symbols,” according to Angelo. It was recently discovered that the notes carved into the stone actually formed a 45-minute concerto.

We couldn’t call it a night in Naples without trying the famous Neopolitan pizza. Even though we’d just had dinner, a group of us decided to split a box among ourselves.

The verdict is in, and New York pizza is forever out.

Pope Benedict XVI at this week's papal audience. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

The drumbeats at St. Peter’s Square could have been straight out of a football game. They added to our sense of anticipation: we had been waiting for over half an hour to see Pope Benedict XVI from up close at his weekly papal audience. This was the second time we were trying to catch a glimpse of the leader of the Catholic Church. The last time we tried doing so was on Sunday, when he appeared as a speck in the balcony at the Angelus prayer. It took powerful zoom lenses loaned to us by the generous equipment room staff to actually photograph  him. Unfortunately, many of us were stopped from filming him by the Vatican security…

We weren’t disappointed the second time round. As school children chanted “BENEDICTO!” in unison, the Pope came within a few feet of us. Apertures and shutter speeds were quickly adjusted, and we finally caught the Pope, a frail but imposing figure, being driven through the crowds wearing a benign smile. A greater surprise awaited us: Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism was given a special mention by Pope Benedict XVI himself in the list of institutions present at St. Peter’s Square.

The Pope’s address, which was said primarily in Italian, wasn’t easy for most of us to follow. Brandon Gates, a practicing Catholic said, “I felt honored to be in his presence as he is a great world figure, but I didn’t understand what he said.”

The afternoon took us to the Islamic Community Center of Rome, informally referred to as the Mosque of Rome, a majestic structure that synthesizes Islamic and Occidental styles. Though Islam is the second largest religion in Italy, it is yet to be recognized by the state. What struck Hoda Emam after a tour of the mosque was the fact that it was making an effort to promote inter-faith dialogue. “As we were entering, I saw a nun walking out of the mosque,” said Hoda Emam.

Ines Novacic ties a scarf around her head, in preparation to enter the Islamic Center of Rome. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

Interfaith dialogue turned out to be the flavor of the day and night. After our visit to the Mosque, we headed to the Istituto Tevere, a center dedicated to promoting inter-religious and inter-cultural dialogue in Rome. Mustafa Cenap Aydin, one of our guides on the Mosque tour, introduced us to the center he co-founded in 2007, as well as to two muslim scholars from Turkey, studying theology in Rome.

Later, the Religio group attended mass at the Lay Center at Foyer Unitas. An intimate evening service, consisting mainly of hymns and silent prayer was followed by dinner at the Lay Center. The class mingled with international lay students currently residing at the Center. The students’ origins varied from Bosnia to Indonesia to the Ivory Coast, and were all studying at the Pontifical Universities of Rome. We were all particularly excited to have Fr. Felix speak about Catholic-Muslim dialogue, as both our class and the lay students had been engaged in interreligious discourse throughout dinner.

We ended our rather exhaustive day with a group meeting with Marco Politi, an experienced religion writer from La Repubblica. Despite the exhaustion, most of the group decided to follow Politi’s advice and wander the streets of Rome as a final farewell to the city.

Wishes were made at the Trevi Fountain, but plans for an Anita Eckberg-La Dolce Vita reenactment were abandoned in the face of security cameras, replaced with more convivial vagabonding.

Arrivederci Roma!

Bishop Siluan Span talks to our class surrounded by two nuns in the Romanian Orthodox chapel | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

ROME — After four days of frantic reporting and nerve-wracking attempts trying to navigate through the Italian public transportation, the gang got onto a bus and headed out to the outskirts of Rome for fresh air and a nice tour of the Romanian Orthodox Church in the countryside.

The respite from throngs of tourists in the city was a welcome breather. We switched our attention from Michelangelo’s to soaking in the quiet serenity while drinking free champagne courtesy of Bishop Siluan Span who heads the chapel.

Simple and rustic, the chapel is part of a monastery that hosts the Romanian Orthodox diocese in Rome. A few nuns, a priest and a deacon occupy the monastery while living a communal life with eight pet dogs – one of them a very friendly blind retriever mix. Some of the dogs serve as guards since thieves are a concern in Via Ardeatina, one of the ancient Roman roads that lead to the city.

Surrounded by miles and miles of vineyards, Span’s parish deals mostly with Romanian immigrants coping with being far away from home and especially mothers who had to leave their family behind in their home country. Span brought up the issue of the bad image that Romanians have to deal with in Italy. According to the bishop, Romanians have often been perceived as criminals –even though, he argues, most Romanian youths have been excelling academically and are not the ones contributing to the crime rate.

“We don’t create tension, we just celebrate for our flock,” said Span.

He also complimented Pope Benedict XVI for being open to the Romanian community and for the support toward the integration of immigrants in the country.

Despite its size, the church says it also does charity work to provide for everyone in the area, regardless of ethnicity.

The Religio gang then left to head back to the city for an afternoon of frenzied reporting before regrouping for the next highlight of the day.

No doubt, the city is all about the view. During the tour to the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross, our partner university for this trip, we climbed to the rooftop of the university to take one of our many group photos, with Rome’s skyline as our backdrop. The university is at a 14^th century building that included its own cathedral along with a chapel attached for daily mass. A pontifical university is a branch of Catholic university established under the authority of the Holy See. It is mostly a school for priests and nuns, although it is open to all and has a few lay people studying courses that range from theology, philosophy and canon law to church communications.

We took stock of the breathtaking sight of Piazza Navona before we began our next item on the itinerary.

Our trip to Rome would not have been complete if we did not meet all the ranks that make up the Catholic Church. The class has so far met a seminarian, father, archbishop and the Pope (well, okay, we didn’t actually meet the Pope… yet) in just four days. But of course, missing from the list mentioned was a cardinal. Second in rank after the Pope, cardinals are the ones who decide who the next Pope will be.

Cardinal Stafford answering a question from a student. l Photo by Trinna Leong.

Enter American Cardinal James Stafford, who though he came to the Vatican in 1998 as an archbishop, left as a cardinal after getting a promotion from Pope John Paul II.

Cardinal Stafford brought up the topic of changes in the laity movement, shared his experiences with Pope John Paul II and had a lively debate with Professor Alexander Stille on contraception. We also discovered that Cardinal Stafford enjoys the odd Foucault reference…

The day then ended with the gang heading over to Sicomoro restaurant for a feast of and conversation with two religion reporters, Gerard O’Connell and Francis Rocca. Both shared their thoughts on the importance of religion reporting as well as their experiences reporting on the Catholic Church and other religions.

A tiring day in all, we walked out of the restaurant and had a night view of St Peters as we strolled back to our hotel, exhausted and stuffed — yet again — with pasta.

A view from the Vatican Museum Courtyard. | Photo by Raya Jalabi.

ROME — “Screw journalism, I’m never leaving this place” — famous last words by an anonymous member of the Religio team, after spending three hours trawling the Vatican Museum. Anonymous wasn’t the only classmate left reeling in awe at the end of a fascinating guided tour of the museum. Dr. Elizabeth Lev, an extremely learned art historian who has been giving guided tours of the Vatican Museum for over 30 years, selected some highlights for our group to see, anticipating we’d get through the museum with enough time to see St. Peter’s Basilica and make it to our next stop in time. However, so engrossed was our group in the splendors of the Rafael rooms and the Sistine Chapel, that our inquisitive natures – which usually serve us well as journalists – found us spent for time, without ever making it to the Basilica. Perhaps our awestruck pace was due to the overwhelming throng gathered here on one of the most crowded days of the year, but we’d like to think it has everything to do with brushstrokes and Apollo. We all vowed to make it to Michelangelo’s last artistic undertaking before leaving Rome, or forever regret our failings as tourists.

The cross in the shrubbery at Sant'Egedio Courtyard. | Photo by Raya Jalabi

From the Vatican to the Communità di Sant’Egidio. We met Paolo Mancinelli and Claudio Mario Betti outside the Basilica di Santa Maria in Trastevere, a lively neighborhood of Rome. Mancinelli and Betti are both members of the Community of Sant’Egidio, a catholic lay organization dedicated to evangelization, ecumenism and solidarity with the poor and marginalized.

They led our group to the Community’s headquarters, around the corner from the church. We were led inside a beautiful courtyard, which we later found out was once the burial ground of over 400 years of nuns who had lived in the building the Community now occupies. An oasis of calm, the verdant courtyard was our first introduction to the Community’s ethos and history, recounted in Betti’s vivacious tone.

A founding member of the Community, Betti told stories of Sant’Egidio’s founding in 1968 as a student-run catholic group dedicated to servicing the local poor. While other students were rioting around the world, Community members were trying to figure out how to create an invigorated youth who was dedicated to serving the poor and those in need. Clearly, it worked as the group now numbers over 70,000 in 70 countries, according to Betti.

From Sant’Egidio, the ravenous group headed to Dar Poeta Pizzeria in Trastevere where we wolfed down various pizzas and nutella-filled calzones. After our brief respite, it was back to the Basilica di Santa Maria where we attended a Vespers service for members of the Sant’Egedio Community. Although it was a short service, lasting only about 25 minutes, the Vespers consisted mainly of hymns, sung by a choir of melodious voices.

Candles lit for the Vespers service at Santa Maria di Trastevere. | Photo by Raya Jalabi.

We got a chance to look around the church after the service. Santa Maria di Trastevere is one of the oldest churches in Rome, and might have been the first in which Catholic Mass was openly celebrated. Much of the church’s foundations date back to the 4^th century. Interestingly, the square in front of the church is one of the centers of Trastevere nightlife.

Speaking of nightlife, most of the group  headed to a local watering hole to indulge our tired bones by chatting and toasting to a day well spent. Salute!

This is Pope Benedict XVI's real last name. We learned it's not uncommon for Italians to refer to him in conversation simply as "Ratzinger". | Photo by Teresa Mahoney.

ROME — Three notable things from day three.

1. It’s true what they say. J-Schoolers are everywhere. Even in Rome.

We started our morning at the Pontifical North American College (somewhat of an Ivy League for soon-to-be priests) and met a current seminarian and Columbia Journalism School grad named John Paul Mitchell. He recalled that he had applied for and was admitted to Professor Goldman’s Covering Religion class in 2007, but chose Judith Crist’s Personal and Professional Style seminar instead (note the irony of the professor’s last name…)

Mitchell reassured us that the skills we acquire at the J-School are transferable—John is now the magazine editor of the magazine of the North American College. Lesson: you can’t escape journalism, even in a seminary.

Mitchell gave us a brief tour of the college and mentioned that though the priesthood has been in decline for many years, the seminary is at capacity for the first time since the 1960s, with about 250 seminarians, he said.

We attended mass with the seminarians in the morning and then got a tour of the college, ending with the roof of the building, which showcases a great view of Rome and its surroundings. Brandon Gates said he found his dream stand-up spot for his broadcast story.

2. (Sort of) Close and Personal with the Pope

After getting caught up in the beauty of the view, we realized we were running late for our viewing of the Angelus — the Pope’s multilingual blessing of the people in the Basilica. Since it’s only a 15-minute prayer, we didn’t want to be late. When we arrived, it seemed more like a Ramones revival concert than a Roman blessing. The Pope had a list of groups visiting that he made a special announcement for and segments of the crowd screamed (Columbia J-Schoolers didn’t not hear our name on the list).

Our classmate, Michael Wilner, described the scene as something from the Wizard of Oz: Big building. Small man. Loud echoing voice coming from an indistinct source. However, it was amazing to be so close to a man of authority for over a billion people.

Quotes from the moment:

If I were Pope…with Brandon Gates:

“If was the Pope, I kind of like Anthony as a name,” Brandon said.

“I could see Pious,” Sarah said.

“I was going to say that,” Anne said.

“Well, I wanted to say that but I was trying to be humble,” Brandon said.

“We’ve­ had a black president, it’s time for a black Pope,” Sarah said.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, spoke on monastic virtues at San Gregorio Magno al Celio to celebrate the millennium of the monastic community of Camaldoli. | Photo by Teresa Mahoney.

After the Pope, we went to see the “pope” to the Anglicans, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams. He spoke on, “Monastic Virtues and Ecumenical Goals — ” a talk that seemed to interest the assembled monks and clergy but had little value to journalists. We headed to dinner at La Pilotta for another pasta dinner. The Rev. John Wauck, professor at the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross, and the Rev. Owen Keenan, Official of the Vatican Secretariat of State, joined us.

3) Pizza: Rome v. New York

Tonight my classmates Brandon, Anne, Michael, Aby and I decided to get a late night snack near Campo di Fiore and had an experience at VIP pizza, aka Very Italian Pizza. Italians are witty.

Having now experienced both New York and Rome pizza, I would like to share some observations.

 1. Quantity

1.  Roman pizza can be bought by the pound. New York pizza is always the size of your face.

2. Cheese

Roman pizza has less cheese, more of a sauce emphasis. New York pizza has loads of cheese.

3. Crust

Roman pizza has a crunchier crust. New York pizza tends to be thin crust and chewy.

Who wins? The verdict is not in yet. More experiments necessary.

The class enters the Ponte Sant'Angelo Methodist Church in Rome. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

ROME — Our experience in Italy so far has been one of religious diversity within a deeply Catholic society. Following last night’s visit to the synagogue, we visited a Waldensian/Italian Methodist church, a Russian Orthodox church and the Press Office of the Holy See.

Waldensian Pastor Lucca Barato and British Methodist Pastor, Reverend Kenneth Howcroft ,joined us at Ponte Sant’Angelo Methodist Church, where we learned about Italy’s small but important Protestant community. The church’s sanctuary was tiny, but we were surprised to learn that it draws in about 60 people each Sunday.

“It’s hard to imagine that many people inside there,” said Sarah Laing. “I would have thought it was much less than that.”

Italy’s Protestant community is augmenting quickly due to an increasing immigrant population. Barato and Howcroft both pointed out that Italy’s increasingly diverse population is creating greater demand for religious plurality.

Howcroft said it’s hard to be diverse in a country where Catholicism is completely ingrained in the culture.

“Where religion becomes the culture, the culture becomes the religion,” he said.

Hoda Emam and Raya Jalabi chatting with the Reverend Kenneth G. Howcroft of the Ponte Sant'Angelo Methodist Church. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

It’s nearly impossible to avoid the Catholic Church in Italy. As Barato joked,”Even the Protestants in Italy are Catholic.”

After a brief worship service at the Methodist Church we visited the Press Office of the Holy See and walked a few blocks to St. Catherine’s Russian Orthodox Church. The building sits upon a steep hill that the Vatican had leveled so the Russian Orthodox Church would not outshine the Catholic Church, according to Professor Goldman.

The beautiful porcelain and gold iconostasis of the church’s two sanctuaries were a wonder to behold.

“I thought it was beautiful,” said our classmate, Brandon Gates, “It’s not something you see everyday, in the churches I go to. But I thought it was appropriate, because if God is the most high… how can we offer reverence but with the finest jewels in the world to worship Him?”

One distinct feature of a Russian Orthodox church is the lack of chairs in the sanctuary. Archpriest Igor Vyzhanov, whose wife and newborn child were also in attendance, made it clear that Russians believe that standing during worship is a sign of piety in a thick Russian accent.

“In the Greek church you will see chairs. In the Lebanese and Syrian churches, chairs. In Serbian church you sometimes see them,” he said, pausing solemnly before frowning and adding, “In Russia we do not use chairs.”

Professor Goldman on our first day in Rome! | Photo by Anam Siddiq.

ROME — The wonderful thing about a sleepless night, mixed with jetlag and a healthy dose of mid-semester exhaustion, is that it produces a wonderfully random first impression of Rome.

The flight was (thankfully) a fairly uneventful experience, and we arrived en masse at Rome’s Fiumicino airport, where we were welcomed with open arms by Professor Goldman. The ride out from the airport was initially unimpressive, Neha Prakash going so far as to remark that it felt like she was in New Jersey. Brandon Gates even began concocting conspiracy theories involving a plane circling New York for 8 hours, but an ancient Roman highway weaving between stuccoed houses finally convinced us of our genuine Italian location.

Professor Goldman had described our hotel as “adequate,” which we interpreted as  “may or may not have a roof or been cleaned since Caesar Augustus’ day.” Luckily, we found he was under-selling the charms of Hotel Emmaus, which overlooks St Peter’s Square and includes a genuine-old-school cage elevator. In the room occupied by Ines, Teresa and myself, we had a wonderful “I’m in Italy” moment, opening our Venetian shutters and looked out upon the sun streaming over Rome’s rooftops.

The Religio team, delirious at the airport in Roma. | Photo by Anam Siddiq.

Our itinerary kicked off with an introduction to one of our hosts, Ashley Naronha, who bestowed upon all 16 of us state-of-the-art touring technology. The devices –radio receivers and headsets – meant to allow us to hear our guide while in the busy city streets. I’ll leave it to another chronicler to deliver the final verdict on this innovation.

I’ll also leave it to the guide books to give a run down of our whirl-win tour of the Capitoline Hill, which took us from Castor and Pollux to Gilat Shalit to Vestal Virgins and back again. After a molto rapido coffee break (and a cappuccino whose praises Anne Cohen could sing for 5,000 words), it was time to head into the Jewish ghetto, a short, sloping cobble stone street away from the Capitoline. After hearing about this area and its history (grazie Professore Stille!) throughout the semester, we were all eager to experience it. At first glance, it looked much like the rest of that part of Rome: – yellow stucco buildings, fragments of a temple ruin sticking out every now and then – but with the notable exception of a white domed building that dominated the skyline.

Michael Wilner and Anne Cohen outside the Roman Synagogue. | Photo by Anam Siddiq.

This was the Great Synagogue of Rome, and on a Friday evening, we were here to attend the Sabbath service. As the sunny afternoon turned into a chilly twilight, we mobilized to pass the “security check point” at the synagogue gates. We surrendered our passports, and were called up one by one to a table, where our bags were stripped of any electronic device that would not be considered a “Sabbath item.”

The most striking thing about the service was the physical beauty of the synagogue. With ornate gilding and stained glass to rival the greatest churches, a soaring dome drew the eye heavenward. Being female, I watched the service from an upstairs balcony, my view obstructed by an ornate metal grille. I don’t think many of us, women or men, could claim to understand much of the substance of the service, since it was unamplified and entirely in Hebrew. But an atmosphere of solemn worship spoke volumes.

After the Great Synagogue, Day One ended with two hours of deliciousness at our Shabbat dinner, held at a famous Jewish restaurant in the ghetto. Many of us ate deep-fried artichoke for the first time, savoured spaghetti with spinach, and washed down tasty with red wine. The highlight of the meal wasn’t the food however, it was Professor Goldman’s matchless rendition of the Sabbath blessing.

And with that…I think it’s time to rest.