Siena.
Cattle. That’s how Dr. Bednarz described the scene of our class hauling it to Track 12 at the train station. We’re not really running. Are we really running? Oh. I guess we’re running, I thought to myself. We made our connecting train to Siena within seconds, poor Dr. Sebastian’s backpack strap nearly being gnawed by the closing doors.
Once we arrived to Siena we walked through the town to get to our hotel. At first glance it seemed like a city of walls, the exact opposite of Assisi where you could see sky and landscape for miles. But I didn’t mind it. It was beautiful in its own way.
Hotel Athena is located literally on the opposite side of Siena just a short walk from the city gates. This hotel was gorgeous too. We quickly dropped our stuff and made our way to the piazza for lunch. Kylee and I weren’t hungry though, so we decided to do some shopping (can you blame us? I mean, it is Italy). Six dresses, two fitting rooms and one missing water bottle later we sprinted back to the piazza to join the class for a tour of the museum (which had an excellent medieval bell tower, but that’s just my opinion).
Inside the museum we saw frescoes dating back to the 13th century. My favorite was the Allegory of Good and Bad Government. The detail in the faces of each character, human and mythological, conveyed so much emotion. You could read their faces and know the thought process and mood of the painter, the mark of any good artist. In the room with the painting we saw a scale model of a duomo. I asked Dr. Bednarz why the Star of David was located in the duomos. Jeff and Chris noticed the same thing. We briefly discussed it and I made a mental note to research it later.
After the museum we were free to explore the city. I wandered through some more stores, picked up some gelato and walked back to the hotel where I stumbled upon Chris, Jeff, Michelle Rau and Michelle Brenes watching a sport that we nicknamed “Medieval Rugby.” At the time we had no idea what to call it because it seemed like there were so many sports going on at once. If I described this sport to you, you’d think I’d gone mad. But, it’s worth a try:
Imagine 30-50 shirtless men (sometimes pantsless as well, please don’t ask why because I still haven’t figured it out) running around an outdoor court the size of half a football field with a dirt floor. These men can kick or throw the ball to their team mates, but run the risk of causing boxing matches between opposing team members on the side. I don’t mean on the side of the court. These men will drop the ball to start boxing or wrestling in the middle of a game already in progress without a second thought, which is probably how pants began disappearing. If they grew tiresome they would either hug it out or lay on the ground until one of 20 referees – who were all dressed in neon costumes that rivaled the Swiss guard – blew their whistle. Once a team member managed to trek across the court they received a point only if they threw the ball over a six-foot fence out of bounds. Wait, did I say a point? I meant half a point. At certain intervals in the game the score would be 2 ½ to ½ . Oh, did I mention that there are 6-10 teams that were all serviced by a circus of paramedics between plays?
Yes, this game actually exists.
Anyway, when the game ended I went to the hotel’s computer to do some research. After my experience in Assisi I wanted to learn as much about Saint Francis as possible. Fun fact: his feast day is October 4, which is my birthday. Coincidence?
I ended my night at the piazza with the group. I loved Siena’s night life because everyone seemed perfectly content with enjoying each other’s company. It was a big, outdoor party. Who doesn’t love one of those?
Siena, Day 2
The next morning we met early for breakfast and a trip to the Duomo. We saw some wall frescoes that blew my mind. I guess I should be used to it by now, but it still amazes me that some of these artworks were created thousands of years ago and to this day harbor colors so rich and brilliant.
Heather and I analyzed the frescoes. We saw that the emotions of the devotees of Christ just after his crucifixion were depicted in ways that most of the gospels don’t cover. Most artists don’t capture Mary kissing her deceased son on the cheek on the apostles removing the nails from Christ’s feet. They cover the important moments through the parables and the miracles, but the fact that this artist took the time to extend the story and consider every emotion they felt through every phase of Christ’s burial? Amazing. Clearly this person is devout in their faith. Their heart(s) shows
through the work.
After the Duomo we briefly visited a baptistery, quickly followed by the Church of Mary of the Assumption. In my research on Saint Francis the night before I looked through a long list of patron saints. It took me a moment to remember, but once I did my jaw dropped. Mary of the Assumption is the patron saint of Jamaica. I was nearly brought to tears when I entered the church.
I loved the complexities of the church. The chapels weren’t closed off and the main aisle was decorated with flags from the 17 districts of Siena. I also spotted floor carvings which, if I’m not mistaken, were depictions of the Massacre of the Innocents. Somehow it fit like the perfect puzzle. The assortment of colors and light made for organized chaos.
I found the gift shop because I was considering finding a rosary with Mary of the Assumption on it, having just discovered she was another patron saint of mine. I looked at the bracelets and rings and saw one in particular that caught my eye. The beads were red and gold ladybugs. I had unknowingly visited the church of the patron saint of my country and found a rosary that connected it to my experience in Assisi. It seemed as if everything was falling in to place. I bought the rosary and said a prayer for Jamaica just before leaving the church.
Between churches I visited the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo with Jeff, Michelle Brenes and Lauren. This museum had artifacts that were once housed in the church. I saw bones of Pope Leo X that were encased in a gold display. I thought it was very pretty (surprising coming from me, I know). I think my favorite display was an assortment of sculptures of the apostles. I think I spotted Thomas and Judas. Either they still aren’t getting along or someone was in the mood for a practical joke because all of Judas’s fingers were missing except for the middle one, which was pointed like a missile directly at Thomas.
Our next church was the Church of Saint Dominic. I had dreaded this church since we visited Santa Maria sopra Minerva and saw Catherine’s body. It didn’t stop me from enjoying the church though. This church was different because it had a staggering amount of open floor space (Dr. Bednarz later explained to us that there was a tradition of riding a horse into the church for good luck), little decoration outside of the chapels and lots of light to bounce off the bare walls. It seemed as if it were a work in progress. I appreciated its simplicity because the Dominicans don’t believe in indulgence. Their sanctuary is a reflection of their beliefs. To me, that’s beauty.
And then came her head.
I thought I was ready. I reminded myself that, like everything else in this world that’s new to us, it shouldn’t be feared due to lack of understanding. However, all rationale went out the window when I saw her. I honestly don’t remember how long I was frozen, but Dr. Sebastian told me he didn’t see me blink. Poor Dr. Bednarz must have been worried. She had to remind me to breathe!
I felt like I was in the church for hours, but truthfully it couldn’t have been more than 45 minutes. Our final excursion was to the Sanctuary of Saint Catherine. We saw the cross she was praying to when she received the stigmata, portraits of her in her youth and some of the original rooms in her house. The church we visited had beautiful frescoes and boasted blue and gold motifs (sidenote: I find the art work in Siena has a central theme of blue and gold, I made a mental note to research it when I got back to Rome).
After we left the sanctuary I went back to the hotel to rest for a while because later that night we went out for Jeff’s birthday! I was a little jealous that he was able to spend his birthday in a foreign country, I’ll be honest. But he seemed perfectly content with dinner and relaxing at the piazza. One of the things I like most about him is that he’s not demanding. He was extremely thankful for everything that happened that day.
We ended the night in the piazza once again. If I ever return to Siena not only do I hope I have time to see the horse race, but I hope I get the chance to lay down in that piazza again and listen to the sounds wafting from the lounges and restaurants. Something about that area is so relaxing, but makes you feel like you’re in the place to be. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that I’m fortunate enough to see it again.
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