Happy St. Patrick's Day!
My tram broke down on my way to Mass this morning. I knew I'd be late to Santa Maria Della Scala, so I ducked into Santa Maria in Trastevere just in time for the consecration. (Cheating? Perhaps.) Then I ran to the Angelus; by 11:30, it was stuffed. I had to elbow my way to the screen, but there was no getting close to the square. I was a little disappointed that he only spoke in Italian, and no one around me could translate, but what clips and phrases I did understand (happy Sunday, and have a nice lunch) were wonderful.
I was going to head to the shore with a Guinness and a book and celebrate St. Patrick's Day properly, but instead ended up in Santa Maria in Trastevere talking to a homeless man from Germany. Poor thing was so worn down he kept telling me the same story over and over, though occasionally he would yodel, because he is "from Bavaria, in the mountains". He's lived in Italy for over twenty years, he said, though now he lives in Rome. He was an artist, but now he sleeps by 8-o-clock. He just wanted to talk. He clapped along to the Irish songs that Steve and I sang.
The monks did not want us around this evening, so we all went to Carlomente, and a few of us ended the night at the Scholar's Lounge. I hope we don't come off to the Romans like some other American students.
St. Patrick, ora pro nobis.
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