1954 vs 2015 Travel Diaries

I learned very recently that my great grandmother kept a diary of her travels to Europe, way back in 1954. I knew very little of Inay Nati—only that we celebrated her hundredth birthday when I was about six or seven, wearing bright red shirts with her face printed on it.

But she went to Europe, apparently, on this full grand tour with an archbishop! If I thought my maternal grandmother was religious, she had nothing on my great grandmother, apparently.

I’ve been slowly typing the contents of her diary. From what I understand, and from what she explains in the first page of the photocopy I have, she was cleaning some of her belongings when she came across some documents that reminded her of her Europe trip. So the diary was of a trip in 1954, written in 1978. There are five filler notebooks in all, and my sister and I saw that the last was an account of her life. I’ll get to that eventually.

But for now, I thought I would compare a portion of her diary to a travel diary entry I wrote in 2015—when I travelled to Europe for the first time. Much like Inay Nati, I was really excited, and knew that the trip was incredibly monumental. While I didn’t pray to my patron saint for it like she did, it was nice to connect to her this way. Her diary is fun to read—not a lot of detail, but she’s describing very touristy things in Filipino that made it easy to guess where she was or what she was seeing (her description of a Cuckoo clock was so clever!).

Here’s the transcript of her Rome diary, and a rough English translation:

Rome- May 21

Before entering our room, I spoke with a priest to hold mass for my husband Miguel’s death anniversary tomorrow. It will be eleven years since.

Who would have thought that on this date that it would be the exact same date I would reach the City of my dreams? Things truly when the Lord wills it, and it becomes more important to be faithful.

Eleven years ago, when Miguel died, I thought I should like to die as well, because I could not be able to take care of the many problems of a woman who didn’t know anything, and with three children to take care of.

I left everything to God, and He showed me that these hard trials he sent will also help me ease those burdens and allow them to pass.

Ever since I was young, I was a devotee of Sta. Rita de Casia, and every 22nd of May I wear the saint’s habit.

On her feast day Miguel died, and it was a cruel twist of fate, but after eleven years, I have finally been given true happiness.

Rome- May 23

The next morning, we went to Mass, and I attended four services, one for Miguel and three for my three daughters. After breakfast, we went to the American Express office to arrange the itinerary and to the bank to exchange money.

After, Farther Bienvenido Lopez gave us a tour. We went to the Vatican and he pointed to us where the Pope would come out (?).

We went to a high place where we could see the whole City of Rome.

We saw the Coliseum where they killed Christians in the old days, and some were fed to the animals.

I remember when I was young, we watched a zarzuela of St. Sebastian where he was hit by arrows until he died, and St. Pancras was fed to animals. It was sad to watch and these thick and tall walls flow with the blood of the blessed (??) and long roads were passed by martyrs.

It’s chilling to see!

Roma - Mayo 21

Bago ako pumasok sa aming cuarto, ay na ki usap muna ako sa isang pari para ipagmisa kina bukasan sapagkat aniversario ng kamatayan ng aking asawa. Ika labing isang taon ng kamatayan ni Miguel. 

Sino ang mag sasabi na sa pecha pa namang ito, ay hustong husto naman na siang pagdating ko sa Ciudad na aking pangarap makarating. Kaloob na lahat ng may Kapal upang lalong maging maha laga na, ang apag kakatapan ay sadyang itinadhana. 

Noong nakaraang labing isang taon na mamatay na si Miguel ay isip ko na ma mamatay na din ako, sapagkat hindi ko kaya ang mag alala ng na pag pa hirap na suliranin ng isang balo na walang nalalaman na may tatlo pang anak. 

Ipina ubayan kong lahat sa kamay ng Dios, at ipinakita sa akin ng Dios na, iyan na si nusubuk Nia ang pag papadala ng hirap, at Sia naman ang tutulong ng pag papagaan at ng pag dadala ng hirap na yaon. 

Maliit pa akong bata ay devoto na ako ni Sta. Rita de Casia, at tuwuing ika-22 de Mayo na ako na naka suot ako ng habito ng Santa. 

Sa kapistahan Nia ay namatay si Miguel isang na pa ka laking dagok ng Kapalaran, ngunit pagkatapos naman ang labing isang taon ay binigyan ako ng masaga nang kasayahan. 

Roma - Mayo 23

Kina bukasan ng umaga ay nag simba kami at apat na misa ang simbahan ko, isa pag patungkol ki Miguel at ang tatlo ay sa tatlo kong anak. Pag ka almusal nagpunta kami sa opisina ng American Express, upang ayusin ang mga araw ng sunod sunod na viaje at nag tuloy sa banco upang mag papalit ng pera. 

Pag katapos ay ipinasial Kami ni Padre Bienvenido Lopez. Dinala kami sa Baticano at itinuro sa amin ang tinutuha ng Papa. 

Nag punta kami sa isang mataas na lugar na natatanau ang Cuidad ng Roma.

Nakita namin ang Colieso na dito ginagawa ang pag patay sa mga Cristiano ng unang panahon, at na ang iba ay pinaka kain sa mga hayop. 

Naala-ala ko tuloy noong maliit pa ako, na ipinalabas sa isang sarsuela ang buhay ni San Sebastian na sia ay pi natamaan ng pana hanggang mamatay at si San Pancracio naman ay ipinakain sa hayop. Nakalulungkot panoorin ang mga makakapal at nag tataas na yaon ay maraming dugong dumanak ng mga banal, at mahabang calle na pinag daanan nag mga Martires.  

Na ka pa ngingilabok gunitain!

I’ve been keeping travel diaries since around 2011. What started out as a fun thing to do in between waiting for the next thing has now become one of my favorite things to do when I’m travelling. It’s just fun (funny?) to realize that my great grandmother saw the same things I did, experienced the same things I did in an ancient city—and yet we came out talking about completely different things! I kept reading her diary and wondering what she ate, what it made her feel, what she experienced. Save for one time where she talks about going to a panciteria in London because she was sick of European food (totally understandable), I don’t know.

So here’s my entry, just for fun. It’s around the same time, sixty years later!

May 16, 2015
4:10 PM
Rome

There’s a football match going on right outside out window, and we can hear the yelling from here. Every hours, not quite on time, a Church bell rings. We dash when we cross the street, we push and squirm at crowds and keep our eyes peeled for a blue and green scarf over a din of flags and gloves and sunflowers. That’s Rome. As much as I hate the crowds and the crazy drivers and the other tourists, the city’s history is too beautiful and ancient to ignore. Plus, when done right—the food is delicious. 

***

We started our day bright and early in another country—the Vatican was ten minutes away from our hotel, which was fantastic. We started in Vatican Museum, making our way through the narrow hallways full of thousand year old artifacts. The lines between Popes, Gods and Kings were really blurry, so while the images and statues are religious, they’re of Roman gods and made with gold leaf. The map room, the most elaborately decorated hallways ever, featured frescoes, gold, plaster statues on the ceiling, murals on the side and gold on the maps. It’s funny to know that the maps are upside down. 

The Tapestry Room, in a creepy way, has Jesus that watches you cross the room. Help. The ceilings, I have to mention, also look like they’ve been plastered with flwoers and decor with pastel backgrounds, but it’s actually just pained on! Gah. 

Then we walked down to the Sistine Chapel. I hadn’t imagined it that big and all the paintings that small. The Michaelangelo paintings made me feel so small and insignificant, but there’s something hopeful about the Last Judgement. I don’t know. All I know was that I wanted to look up at it forever. Maybe. 

After the Sistine, we went out into St. Peter’s Basilica. IT WAS HUGE! So big that Michaelangelo’s Piera was put to one side, the cherubs were as big as Frances and it took us 40 minutes to walk around. We saw Pope tombs (yikes), the Pieta, the Dome that’s the exact same size as the Pantheon, prayed in a small side chapel (walking away when a random priest walked in and started Latin High Mass), saw statues of St. Ignatius and St. Theresa of Avila and tried to keep Rowell awake long enough. And of course, other tourists. Sigh. 

From the Basilica, we went out to the Square, which was JAM PACKED with people. There will be canonizations or beatifications happening at the Vatican tomorrow so a lot of the areas of the square were blocked off, plus all the people lining up to get in to the Basilica and museum (thank god we were in a tour group!). I should remember to add ‘excuse me’ to the list of short phrases I learn when I’m abroad—it’s so useful. But the Square is beautiful. We had a nice lunch in a small restaurant Gerry recommended for us. This was all I really wanted for my Roman Holiday—yummy pasta, a soda, the warm sun and cool breeze while sitting outside and listening to a man from Denmark talk about travelling. It was wonderful. 

After the Vatican, we passed by the Circus Maximus, the Piazza Venezia and the Castel Sant Angelo to go to…the Colosseum! Where all our Roman dreams go. Or something. It’s an ancient stadium for 50,000 people, and it felt like there were at least twice that many there. The stairs to the second tier are no joke! Steep and so many flights!

Once we got to the top and muscled our way through, the view was pretty cool. To imagine that all of this existed thousands of years before you and still stands today…maybe there is such a thing as forever. Maybe. 

We ended up going around the Colosseum twice just looking for the exit! Gah. Sometimes it frustrates me! How hard is to to make the exit sign a bit bigger? And what is with all the tourists? And selfie sticks should be banned everywhere!

By the time we came back here for a rest I just lay in bed and started writing. 

10:20 PM — Back from the best dinner ever! We drove the bus to Opera, a small restaurant right off of the Tevere. We were served massive plates of antipasto with prosciutto and sweet melon, peok slices, cheese, bruschetta, buratta and veggies. We could barely stomach the margherita pizza, the funghi and parma ham pizza! But of course we had room for tiramisu dessert! Dad got drunk and really happy, singing along to the opera singer and cute accordion player, and we started laughing when he asked the really really cute waiter how old he was for Roselle! Oh god. 

I will always remember us walking in front of the Castel Sant Angelo, singing and taking photos as we said goodbye to Rome. While I’m sad that this adventure is over, when Dad put his arm around me to say ‘thank God you planned this trip,’ I couldn’t wait to get started on the next. 

As we sang while waving around our table napkins, ‘arrivideci, Roma!”