"Lenistas go home!!" in my "Turistas go home" voice - 12/10/2023

 Its 2:30am and we're being picked up by Daniel our airbnb host in 2 hours. We go to Roma Termini and from there we take a 4 hour ride to Venezia S. Lucia. Then we come out and walk to the water taxis where we'll pay 70 euros and be taken exactly to our next airbrb. Luckily, we're able to drop our things there just before we are picked up for our tour. Then we go to our gondola ride which starts I'm assuming around 11:30am. This will last 3 hours I believe. Then presumably we'll come back to the airbnb for a bit and then we'll go see the Haunting tour. Hopefully we will get pizza. Anyways, today was dope. We saw the Colosseum w/ Marta who was so amazing and informative and kind. The colosseum is so beautiful and the weather was great. We learned so much and took so many pics. I will share some things I learned: before "sin ugula" (which means without death) the gladiators were not allowed to be killed. Gladiators were slaves who could be free after 5 to 7 years. They were trained by lenistas ("managers":). There were about 20 something different warriors. Hunters would fight lions, tigers, bears, rhinos, etc. I was surprised to learn giraffes were brought in too. The colosseum was built to curry favor with the common people by giving them entertainment and finally the ability to make decisions--as they would be the ones who decided life or death. It was the Christians who fought against the games and their inhumanity--they eventually brought about the end to the games. ∅ means death. Seats were marble and uncomfortable. Patrons ate chicken wings and seeds. Charons were workers tasked with taking the dead bodies from the arena. Gladiators had fans and could spend the night with them *wink wink*. The gladiators would get paid a little for each win and w/ the $ they accumulated they could start a life post-slavery. Lenistas would sell the blood and sweat of gladiators in vials to fans. One of the most interesting things I learned was that real-life executions were set up like plays/stage productions. That is, the person to be executed was given a role to presumably "act" and then they'd be killed in the middle of the play--oh and all these deaths could be watched by children lmao. I joked that if I had to be executed I simply would miss my cue by not saying my lines. (IDK if they were given lines or not.) This made Marta laugh. Its 5:35am and we are now on Freccacossa train Daniel met us at 4:35 and brought us. It was not so difficult navigating once he dropped us off. I am doing a great job w/ logistics and being organized and asking the right questions. Apparently good pizza isn't served until dinner, that would've been nice to know. I suppose we'll try again once we're back in Rome. Im not sure that I mentioned eating pizza and panna cotta during the day between our two tours. I got the spaghetti from the place I was trying to get our pizza from. The spaghetti was forgettable and not filling. The dessert I enjoyed. It was a dairy/milk jelly covered in chocolate syrup/ I ate this alone on the roof of the airbnb. The weather was so beautiful as was the view. I tied to film part of this experience but I wish I hadn't, oh well--its no biggie. Speaking of Biggie, Marta told us Biggie was her favorite rapper. I gave her a highfive. Just now on the train the female attendant was reluctant to stop and answer my question. A lot of service/hospitality workers here are rude and unkind. My mom thinks they're racist. Im not sure. It hasnt bothered me much because their lack of kindness, understanding, and respect say more about them than it does about us. The women are worse here, my mom noted. I agree. One gave her an incredibly rude and dismissive look when asked for assistance with the vending machine. My ears are compressing and I'm having to swallow a lot to unstuff the,. "Cibo" pronounced "cheebo" is food and soon I'll walk to the bar to get some. Caravaggio had an interesting life. Fleeing from a plague in his hometown of Milan to the small town of Caravaggio where he gets his nickname and then move to Rome where for several years he'll paint, fight, be championed by a cardinal, and kill before fleeing to Naples and two other places in order to escape Rome's death penalty and the revenge of the dead man's brother. He eventually would write letters to the Pope asking for a pardon in exchange for  4 paintings. This would be granted and while en route back to Rome he would die by malaria in his 30s. He was famous for his dark backgrounds, portrayal of emotions and intensity, his realism--a departure form the idealistic tendencies of the Classic painters, the non-literal depictions of biblical scenes, his use of common people, including prostitutes as his models, and his highlighting of the humble and the virtue of humble people. His halos were thing and delicate--had he not been required to paint the halos over certain religious figures he probably wouldnt have. He was Catholic and knew the Bible well. He, of course, did not believe in pre-destination as the protestants did--but believed in free will. He was in between the Classic period and the Baroque period. Such a a cool guy. I must note: I have had three dreams in Rome and none of them have been pleasant. I recall vaguely the one I had in my last sleep. The gist of it was that all the work I'd been doing to get in shape and bulk up was futile and the exact wrong regimen to put into place in order to bulk up. Its little dreams like that which aren't necessarily nightmares but put me through terrible inconveniences which I hate and have always hated. My mom is sleep and I am afraid to do the same because I dont want us to be pickpocketed. Overall I've been mostly vigilant, of guard, on duty, and tireless for much of this trip. It has not been relaxing. I was just telling my mom that next  time we will do no more than one tour a day. I just finished eating pasta and a sweet croissant. My mom had the same. I have one pineapple juice left and my mom has two coffee cups that equal up to about one cade Americano. Its strange how small their qualities are--they really aint bout that caffeine life fr. Anyways, procuring all this foodstuffs was no easy feat. The lady was like we're only serving breakfast then I was like "cool I'll order that but what time is lunch" and she was irate and yelling and flustered saying "we are serving everything!" then I was like "well shit I'll get both then  damn" and then I ordered my mom the two cups and that wasnt so bad but she was tryna tell me to bring the two cups of coffee to the seats and come back for the food but she'd forgotten to put the milk in and so I said "milk first" and then she was like "oh shit, ur right" and so while she did that I brought the food to the seats. Anyways I suppose to lighten the tension--in between yelling and making wide-eyed faces at me--she sung a line from a happy American song "Dont Worry Be Happy" and blew kisses at me. It was very strange. Now there are more people on the train and I've moved and found a suitable location for our luggage. Its now 9:20am -- I will note a lady gave me a big smile.