On May 7, on the cobblestones of St. Peter’s Square, my peers and I were trying to recall Rome’s nickname. New York is the Big Apple, Paris is the City of Lights, but what was Rome?
We found the answer printed on a shirt I had purchased just hours before — Rome, the Eternal City. We had to use my shirt, rather than the internet, because all signals were jammed — sequestered cardinals in the Sistine Chapel aren’t allowed to use cell phones during conclave, and evidently neither were we.
For this Short Term course, called “Layers of Rome,” we had traveled to Rome to explore the ancient city. But after watching the election of a new pope between lessons on ancient art and architecture, I have personally witnessed what that “eternal” label really means. Rome never stops moving; we are lucky to catch any of it. On May 8, though, it stood still.
I am not religious in any manner, but feeling part of such a historic moment doesn’t require you to be Catholic. It also doesn’t require you to know really anything in advance. All you have to do is absorb the moment.
My peers and I knew nothing at all. We had arrived at 6 p.m. on Wednesday, the first day of the conclave, and expected to know the results by 7:30. We hadn’t eaten or used the bathroom beforehand. By the time the black smoke actually emerged from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel just after 9 o’clock, we were cold, starving, and all desperately needed a toilet.
The next night, May 8, we knew a little more. For one thing, we knew smoke wouldn’t happen until at least an hour after the actual vote. We also knew to eat (and pee) before heading there again.
We weren’t planning to actually go to the square on the second night; I had read that a decision would likely be reached the next day. That was until the bells tolled, and off we dashed down the hill to the Vatican, just a kilometer away from our hotel.
And this is where I feel the city stopped, somehow. Despite the rush of people from every corner into the Vatican, roads were closed to cars and the whole city was on the edge of its seat. There were smiles and quick phone calls before folks entered the no-service zone. I accidentally jostled a nun beside me as I approached a security checkpoint and expected her to be ticked off; instead, she smiled at me, offered me her place, and assured me that there was no way I’d miss the papal speech.
It was a tremendous bonding experience with my peers, too. As we’ve trekked through impossibly crowded streets together, we’ve also learned a lot about each other and experienced something incomparable together.
There was no way to predict when I signed up for our course that Short Term 2025 would coincide with a papal conclave or that we would be staying just meters away from such a monumental moment.
To me, though, it is a testament to the immersive experience of this part of the Bates school year — at few other schools would I have had the opportunity to experience such new and valuable history in person while exploring the way the ancient layers of this eternal city have recorded human history. I am lucky, I am grateful, and I am awed to be here in Rome.
Carly Philpott ’27 is a double major in classical and medieval studies and environmental studies from Centennial, Colo. She will serve as editor-in-chief of The Bates Student in 2025–26 with Trinity Poon ’26 of Forestdale, Mass.
