Walking the cobblestoned streets of Bologna we followed a map to get to our destination. Asking Todd for the map earlier in the day he told me I would see the place because there would be a wooden door with some doorbells...The day Rebekah and I got lost trying to find our social justice service sight we knocked on over 10 wooden doors with doorbells in hope it would be the right place. Over half of the doors led us into convents... I had a feeling we were in for another Holy night tonight too.
Finding the right wooden door we all walked through and walked down a set of partially vanishing away stone stairs leading down into a dungeon looking hole in the wall. Orange curtains served as the entrance into this dungeon chapel, and once whisped by the curtains I walked to to the front of the altar and sat myself down near the Bosnian rug on a cushion on the floor. Candles were glowing in the walls, one even falling during the mass onto "Padre's" lap.
Padre, who used to teach Spanish at Spring Hill, now works in Rome and came to visit us in Bologna, Italy to help nourish our spirits...as he said in his homily. This "dungeon chapel" wasn't adorned with golden chandeliers nor did it have pews. People sat on wooden benches and some of us on potato sack cushions on the floor...yet I felt completely comfortable, I felt at home. This was afterall, the Jesuit center in Bologna.
Sometimes I close my eyes when I pray but other times I keep my eyes open...like when I sat on the cliffs in Malta I kept my eyes open, not wanting to close my eyes to the astounding scenery of the Mediteranean. In this dungeon chapel I closed my eyes to pray, not because the scenery wasn't beautiful but because I could hear more clearly what Padre was saying, what he was nourishing my soul with and everyone elses souls who were present.
Padre spoke of "il cuore," the heart in Italian. He said true courage comes from the heart and we are all courageous beings for simply studying abroad. The heart, the core of a person...courage. But I believe this is just the first step of being courageous. Il cuore must be open now and willing to grow, to become more courageous.
Todd gave us a little, probably partially made-up, historical lesson on this dungeon chapel saying it was a place where people were kept and fed during the plague. I believe it....then Todd, as he said could not nourish us in the way Padre did, set to nourish us with chibo (food). We once again walked the cobble stoned streets to the next "place of nourishment"... Osteria Broccaindosso.
Antipasta galore of verduri in olio d'oliva, formaggi, insalate, panes, carni...handmade pastas with cheeses fermented underneath the ground, a delicious rarity, like cheese of gold. Italian mochi. Dolces of steaming chocolate bowls, chocolate covered pane, fragole coperto con panna e panna cioccolata, le torte le torte di limone, le torta di arancia, le torte al cioccolato...and ofcourse il vino.
I was nourished, nourished in body and spirit.
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