Florence

by Jessica Solan

Traveling has already evolved me so much. From long bus rides to organizing flights with big groups, you tend to learn a lot, even from mistakes. Our first free weekend, my friends (who I am so grateful to have met) and I went to Florence. The bus ride there alone let us see a sunset over the rolling hills of Tuscany, and then we stayed right next to a Piazza on what seemed to be to Firenze as Fifth Avenue is to New York. 

We had amazing pizza (as we do in every location in Italy), gelato, shopped, and went out for every opportunity that we could on our three day journey. I was amazed to have seen the Statue of David in person; in pictures it is impressive, but the enormity, detail, and presence that you can feel in the from the real life experience of David is overwhelming. The Santa Maria di Firenze was even more impressive to me. The dome was so enormous, and the paintings inside are absolutely remarkable. It almost feels as if divine figures built the basilica themselves. The consistent artistry around the Basilica, especially the expressive detail and depth of the statues and paintings in front, can not be comprehended in one visit. 

My favorite part of Florence had to be the Ponte Vecchio. My friend visited it several years ago and described it so beautifully. I’d seen it in pictures but to be there was crazy because I didn’t even know where I was for a second. I just saw the river, said to my friend, “we have to see the Ponte Vecchio before we leave,” then walked into a section of stores that I then realized were on a bridge. 

I couldn’t stop staring out at the river, and thankfully, it was my favorite part of the day - the sunset! It was so cloudy, but just as the sky was turning pink, spots of the sky cleared and the colors began jumping off of clouds and windows. It almost sounds made up, which is one of my favorite parts about it being real- it felt like a fairytale. I was so at peace. Another feature of the Ponte Vecchio that I really like is the fact that it’s named “Vecchio.” All it translates to is “Old Bridge,” but my late boyfriends last name is Vecchio, and I usually think of myself as traveling for two, doing all things he never got to do, as well as finding peace and bliss for myself. In this case I’m traveling for three: Myself, Mike, and John Mark, who I’m sure would have been my boyfriend’s best friend if they had met. 

Traveling isn’t just about where you go, it’s also who you are with. I’ve been lucky enough to find amazing friends, and also to have people to carry in my mind as I travel; and let’s not forget that I also am finding more of myself in every day that passes by.

EUROPE: The Soul that Never Sleeps

by Jessica Solan
March 16

Cities breathe. What seems to be piles and rows of concrete to some is the pulse and drive of another. Much like humans, every city is different; no single one feels or speaks exactly the same, and each one leaves us with different feelings and need to see it again. What someone breathes in from one city is what they breathe out in another, and I have never been able to see quite how true this is until the past week of my life. James Hillman’s City and Soul portrays the way a city’s pulse controls the human soul, and through traveling, I have begun to explore the dark and light in the souls of many cities, and how their souls reflect my own.

The soul of Rome is an old one; a spirit that has both ruled the world and fallen to rock bottom in cycles. Rome learns over time, but it picks up new passengers who make the same mistakes. She has proven that she cannot be dictated, for Rome becomes angry when humans try to dictate her. To me, Rome is a place of colors, light, and beauty. Yet, none of this could be if not for a dark past. Sacks, fires, dictators, war, and disaster have plagued the city many times, but it has built Rome to be wiser. Rome’s history pulls on my own soul because of its ability to function like the human mind. I interiorize what is in front of me to see the deeper meanings and complexities of something, so that each time I look at it, I discover something new. IT is bad to only see the good in history, because the bad techs us and tells us where our modern world emerged from. Seeing places like the Roman forum in front of me, or the spots where Hitler or Mussolini once stood, makes me feel so deeply that I do not know what to do with the strange feelings that come over me. The forums, with their rich history of glory and architecture and victory and defeat, are now piles of rock. But those pieces of rock and brick open a new vision for me each time I pass them. There were real people functioning, suffering, and celebrating there. The more I think, the more I can imagine the scenes that happened in the ancient spots around Rome. Thinking even deeper into it, the more I feel that these were not merely scenes, but true humans like the ones who stand next to me now, with a real brain and real hands like the ones I am using to write at this very second in time. These ancient tales come to life and I can almost feel myself walking the ancient streets, before the modern buildings were up, and when human kind may have known a lot more than we do now. The darkness of the dictators that once stood around Piazza Venezia is now overshadowed by cars, gardens, and gelaterias, showing that much like a human, a city can heal from the things that used to make it ill.

Coming from America, Europe feels so culturally rich on a grand scale for such a small space. Rather than different souls being spread out over great plains and clustered at the shores, European cities are much closer together and whisper to each other while still remaining in their own mindset. Many European cities rely on rivers like they are their bloodstream.

Amsterdam is an old soul reincarnated. Its waterways go in every which direction, creating a constantly new flow rather than repeating the past. It has been there since the Middle Ages, and it has seen disaster and domination, but it is now filled with young people doing all of the dumb things that young people are meant to do. There is a sense of community connecting the city in all of its parts, as the waterways carry new experiences around like blood carrying life to every part of the body.

Berlin is not too far, and there I breathed in the past that has completely altered the future. Berlin once was the head of all operations when it came to destroying over 11 million people, and although Berlin has strayed far from what it used to be, I still felt the cold rain seep into my shoes as I stood before the Berlin Wall. Others once wondered if they would ever see the sun on the other side, when all I had to do was take a few extra steps through the puddles to do so. I saw the Sachsenhausen concentration camp as well – a place that shows the darkest part of the human soul. Just outside the main hub of Berlin, one can see the city's sense of momento mori, bringing attention to the dark side of the human soul that cities refuse to leave out. There is an inherent darkness to the human spirit, and the tragedy and surreal quality of the Holocaust reminds humankind what they are capable of. Not every soul carries the same amount of darkness or same kind of darkness, but much like the cities, no single one is perfectly unscathed. Without the horrific things that happened in these camps, Berlin, along with other cities and countries all over the world, never would have realized the horrors they must avoid. The same can be said for souls; those that have suffered know more than those who have not.

Visiting Athens, I felt like I was seeing the older sister of Rome. The ancient Romans learned a lot from the ancient Greeks, as the area below the Acropolis was first established thousands of years before Rome was a thought. Today, we are closer in time to ancient Rome than the ancient Romans were to the beginnings of Greece. Looking at the Acropolis from my friend and I’s balcony at night, with the golden lights shining upon the Parthenon and the darkness with stars falling around it, it was almost divine for me to imagine the power that people once felt from approaching the Acropolis. In its prime it must have been so elaborately beautiful that the Greeks felt like Athena was truly coming down upon them. And now it just appears to be a monument and a symbol of “what once was.” Yet, its image is more powerful than that, because It is a sign of the power and glory that once resided there; the side of Greece that the citizens there hope that they can restore their selves to be. Athens is such an old soul with so many footprints that have come and gone, and thought the country now struggles in its elderly stages, it can still be reborn.

I finished off my week with a few days in London, a city that breathes an iconic regal quality. London is like New York City in many ways, especially in that it knows itself to be a great city. I wish I had more time in London, because felt like my soul pulsated in rhythm with this location. Going to school in New York, I have learned that I love city life because of the nonstop energy and activity that makes me feel complete. However, New York lacks in literal color as well as hospitality. Tall, gray, square buildings do not penetrate the entirety of New York, but they do make up for much of its heart and vital veins. London has so much detailed architecture, more openness to the sky, red telephone booths, castles, white buildings, and gold accents dancing among it. The people of London are much more polite, and who could say that a British accent does not sound like music to their ears? I have always thought of the United Kingdom as a fairytale-like place, maybe because of all of the stories I read growing up that took place there. I felt these tales come to life as my friends and I walked around a modern city with the sun above us, only to see storm clouds roll in minutes later. I heard a clap from the sky and suggested that it may be construction, but we knew it was thunder. We turned onto the London Bridge (which was not falling down, by the way), and as soon as we did, I suddenly was in my first hail storm. I could not help but laugh and feel like I was in some sort of magical tale, and even as the ice slapped me in the face, I looked across to the Tower Bridge as a mixture of hail, darkness, clouded sun, blue, and purple hovered around it. That moment was something out of a dream, and portrays to me how London is the part of my soul that feeds off of fantasy and daydreams. The very second that we finished crossing the bridge in the twisting winds, the hail stopped. It was as if a troll under the bridge had given us the challenge to survive a two-minute hail storm, and doing it with a smile made the sun come back out before we could make it to the top of The Shard, the building where I could take in so much of London’s soul at once. There was a quote on the wall by Samuel Johnson that read, “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life,” and though I had only been there for a couple of days, I felt that he was right. There is not only so much history in London, but also so much future. As the sky was blue on one side and gray on the other, all I could think is that it is so easy for life to change, and everything so quickly passes us by. Sometimes we have to appreciate the hard times to fully take in the good.

London is one place that I could see myself at home, but it is too cold for my soul year-round and does not have the beach escape that I crave so often. That is why I felt so at home when I visited San Diego and Los Angeles last summer. I need the hype of the city to keep my soul in motion, but I need the beach nearby to keep me at peace. I want to take periods of time to explore Europe for the rest of my life, but I have never felt more destined to live somewhere than California. The sunset over the mountains and ocean in Santa Monica painted my mind with a permanent image that really spoke to the innermost parts of me, and really made me comprehend who I am. I am a person that loves excitement from the outside world, but finds meaning within, as well.

There is something different to be said about cities that one calls home. I was born it Atlanta, Georgia, and much like my age when I left, the city is young. I am now nineteen years old and I moved when I was seven, so Georgia is locked in as a distant memory of the past, much like the noble innocence of childhood. That is when I moved the shores of New Jersey, which I was not excited about at the time, but those shores have so deeply intertwined themselves with my innermost being. The Jersey shore’s pulse slows and rises with the seasons, much like my energy. As families flood the beaches from May to September, it feels like I am growing towards the sun more quickly than the plants that bloom around me. As tourists leave in the fall and the lifeguards no longer patrol the beaches, I feel a sense that something is missing. The winter is cold, and although I am still a happy person, a bit of cold resonates inside of me as well. Spring is when I start to feel the hole become filled again, and I see hints of green leaves and more blue skies that mix together to shade my eyes to their original color. Living there from ages seven to eighteen, I developed an emotional attachment to my town as my most crucial years of development unraveled. Emotional experiences in the places you dwell are the things that make your soul so deeply involved with what to others just appears to be a normal beach town. A lot of that is sentiment and nostalgia. Seeing the elementary school where I met my best friend, as well as the park where we lost each other ten years later. Seeing the high school hallways where my first boyfriends asked me out on dates, and where the stress of everyday classes once took over my mind. I see the soul of the town grow older in my little sister. We moved to the shore she was four, and now I drive my sixteen (going on twenty-one) year old sister around while she goes on about boys and the colleges she is looking into. The shore’s soul shows itself to me through my friends on summer nights as we drive along the beach with the sunroof down, just so we can waddle across the cold sand to the lifeguard stands that they had been working on earlier that same day. I never feel my own soul more deeply than when I am sitting on the dark beach and gazing up at the stars. The shore tells you just how small you truly are. No matter what I go through, I know that the sky will always be there to guide me through my story even though my story truly is short in the grand scheme of time. All of the things that seem so big as I drive down Ocean Avenue in the daylight become so small as I stare up at the stars exploding thousands of galaxies away. Up there is one star that is “officially” registered to be named after my last boyfriend and I. It is right next to my favorite star, Vega, that follows me around the entire word; I recognize the constellations around it in every city that I go to. That past boyfriend has been in the stars for almost two years now, but when roaming my hometown, I still almost see him in the streets and hear his car outside of my house. Though no one can speak to him, I still hear him and see him everywhere around our town; at the sushi restaurant whenever I see a couple, in the donut shop as a tall, lanky man checks out, in the waves as the surfers paddle out, in every ukulele I encounter, and in the cars driving around with no sense of direction. That is the thing about home – not only is it the places with the memories, but it is the people in those memories. My parents, sister, best friends, and boyfriend that have driven the same streets with me so many times. Those are the people that have molded my heart, and that is what gives the Jersey shore the heartbeat that holds hands with my soul.

For nineteen years old, I have been lucky enough to travel a lot, and it has not only taught me a million lessons, but has also made me see myself in the world and the world within myself. I have been to even more places that speak to my soul in other ways, and this weekend I’ll go to the City of Love. Though I am far from falling in love in any romantic way, Paris is one of my dream destinations, and I am sure it will teach me to fall even more in love with the world around me and teach my soul to think in new ways. One important thing to remember in every city, is that while cities and souls are both constantly changing, we see things as we are, not as they are.

Having the Arches program ingrained into my religion class has molded a new viewpoint of what religion can be. My version of religion has always involved a Catholic church on Sundays and saying my prayers at night. Of course, I knew there were other religions and I understood the key factors of their backgrounds. Aside from gaining a more in-depth understanding of these religions in class, my involvement with the Green Fair has opened up a view to a tie that I did not pay much attention to before- the tie between religion and nature.

I believe that there is God and that everything around us exists because of this higher power. That includes nature, but the Arches community service has introduced me to intersectionality. As Pope Francis addressed in his speech to the United Nations, there should be factors of the modern world tied into religion. His speech referenced God and His love, but also tied in the importance of economics, politics, social issues, science, and very notably, the environment. Without a living and thriving environment, there is no living or thriving human race. It is also important to treat the blessed world we have been given with respect and care. The pope included that people and things all have a right to exist, and that we cannot let the blessings of the earth be taken for granted.

Helping with the Green Fair has shown us that a little help can make a big difference. Saving the earth may be a large task to tackle, but it starts with small groups and grows from there. The Green Team is a passionate body of people who are determined to make New York City a greener place, and working on the environments of cities is highly important because of how much pollution and waste they produce. Every shovel full of dirt and left over food that I mashed up and dumped in the compost bin is better than a shovel full of waste in a landfill.

Having all of the environmental efforts completed at a church proves that there is a connection between religion and environmentalism. This connection is rooted in the idea that people with the virtues tied to the major religions tend to feel compassionate towards the world around them.

I feel that the Bronx Green Fair community service is a positive component for the Arches program. Arches students are students that want to be involved and active, and this gives us an opportunity to do so. Considering we are a Catholic college, having our community service connected to a church and a worthy cause at the same time has created a noble image for the Arches program.

Green Service

            I spent a majority of my service efforts as a member of the publicity team for the Bronx Community Green Fair. My first meeting was with other members of the publicity team in Katie Doyle’s room, where we had a video call for an hour with Roberta about advertising for the fair. A lot of time was spent discussing the best layout and details for the flyer, as well as distribution of the flyers.

            My second encounter was with Katie and another member of the publicity team named Nicole, along with Dr. Shefferman and Roberta. For about 45 minutes, we gathered in the Internet Café to once again discuss the flyers, as well as our social media platforms and who would control and regulate them. Our publicity team set up accounts for Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

            Next, I met with Aimen and we visited the church together. We both worked on signs for the fair for an hour and a half. It was fun to paint and get involved in the artistic side of the fair and to see all of the little details that go into making the fair the best that it can possibly be.

            My final bit of service was not involved with publicity, but rather with getting some dirt on my hands. I spent two hours with members of the Green Team, Ceaser and Lucy, composting leaves, plants, dirt, and left over foods. We broke down the elements with shovels and mixed the remains with wood chips. Then, we shoveled the mixture into the composting bins. After several barrels of compost, we topped off the bins with a layer of dry elements from the ground, then with another layer of already-composted materials. I am not used to outdoorsy work (or that smell), but I actually had fun putting myself to work and making use of myself in an environmental way.

            Working with the Green Team was a completely new type of experience for me, and working alongside them to see their ideas come together and their passions play out was a very humbling experience.