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aehartman

Stop and Smell the Ancient Ruins


Despite only being here for two weeks, I’ve concluded that Italy is a country with no shortage of experiences. Whether it be eating authentic Italian cuisine, exploring incredible ancient ruins, or admiring stunning Renaissance artwork you desire, you will surely find it with ease. Perhaps the only downside to this is at times it can be overwhelming. My lofty list of things to do continues to grow, and suddenly, one semester feels like an impossibly short time. Therefore, I think it is important when abroad, to intentionally pause.


It was with this attitude that I approached the Roman Forum, also known by its Latin name, Forum Romanum. On a Wednesday morning, with my notebook in one hand, and my phone being utilized as a GPS in the other, I began the 35-minute walk over the Tiber. The entrance to the Roman Forum is situated directly across from the Colosseum, so I snapped what seemed like my hundredth photo of the magnificent structure. It’s a sight that could never get old (I mean that figuratively, of course, since it’s actually nearly 2,000 years old.) As I strolled through the metal detector before entering the forum, I wondered briefly if Julius Caesar would have appreciated such a contraption.


The Colosseum (right next to the Roman Forum!)

The Roman Forum


With a slight chill in the air, I sat upon a set of smooth, stone steps, the temperature resting around 42 degrees Fahrenheit. Finally, I lifted my eyes to take in my surroundings. What I saw before me was not simply stone and ruins, but history. The Forum is slightly larger than a football field, with remnants of structures of varying sizes spread throughout, like coins in the bottom of a fountain. Mud and cobblestone weave throughout the open area to create streets and paths that have been tread upon by Romans and tourists alike.




The Temple of Castor and Pollux

Straight in front of me, three columns towered above like noble giants protecting their land. The off-white color of the ruins easily separated the structure from the blue background of the sky. I peered upwards, aiming to get a better look at the details of the top of the column, while simultaneously trying to recall the words of my art history professor. The decorative and bell-shaped nature of the columns allowed me to confirm their style as being Corinthian (not to be confused for Ionic columns, which curl like cinnamon buns at the top), and with a quick google search, I found these three columns, known as The Three Sisters, are all that remains of the Temple of Castor and Pollux. Figures from Roman mythology, Castor and Pollux are said to have been the twin sons of Zeus, who once watered their horses at a spring in the Forum after a victory in battle, thus warranting the construction of their temple.


Satisfied, I shoved my phone in my pocket. While I do appreciate the ability to gain knowledge with such ease, at times I resent the dominant role my phone plays in my life. This was an environment I wanted to fully be immersed in, so I resolved to look up information later and scanned the land before me. To my right my eyes locked onto a curved structure, that seemed to once be part of a circular building. Again, I noticed Corinthian columns, and the classic off-white color of the stone brilliantly bathed in sunlight. The cracks in the structure gave away its age, as I tried to picture Romans walking through the streets around me. I’d later learn this curved structure was once the Temple of Vesta and contained the ever-important Sacred Fire. What is seen today of the structure is actually what was reconstructed in the 1930s by Mussolini in an effort to reclaim Italy’s ancient grandeur.


The arch the couple stood at is to the left in this photo

I allowed my eyes to wander once again, and finally noticed the quietness of my surroundings. Apparently, a Wednesday morning in January is not a busy time at the Roman Forum (at least not in 2022), but I was not completely alone. A few feet away from me a man and woman approached, quietly speaking to one another in Italian. They slowly walked towards one of the grand arches about 30 meters away from me, stopping at its base. They pointed and talked, and I couldn’t help but smile when the woman erupted in laughter. I didn’t hear the joke, and wouldn’t have understood it even if I did, and yet I could easily understand the love shared between the two individuals.


Closing my eyes, I noticed the smell of mud and earth and listened to the seagulls perched on the ruins nearby. Their squawks have brought a surprising sense of comfort during my time here. The Jersey Shore is littered with the “flying rats,” as many New Jerseyans affectionately call them, and I hadn’t expected to see them in Rome. The same creature that once caused paranoia when I ate french fries on the beach is now a welcomed reminder of home. What a strange development. I slowly opened my eyes, chuckling at my own absurdity and the seagull to my left. Nearly an hour had passed, and yet, I felt I could stay for hours more. Unfortunately, homework awaited me back at my apartment, so I closed my notebook, rising to leave. After one last peek over my shoulder, I walked down the hill, past the Colosseum, and over the Tiber. I wonder where I’ll sit next week.


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