Then and Now

Only in this city can the time-periods coexist as they do. On one side of the street stand a few businesses: a bank, a gift shop, a pizzeria, and a few other tourist places. Cars zip past, and the locals hardly notice the structure on the other side of the street. Tourists make their pilgrimage, crossing the street like a river cutting through a valley, and they buy their tickets to the ruins. With no prior knowledge, one might wonder why a decaying structure is allowed to linger; only half its outer-most wall still exists, seats have eroded, the structure never had a roof, and all that remains of the enormous ovular wooden stage is a reconstructed walkway and a small stage area at one end. Stone cages that were once hidden under the stage are now exposed to the elements, and they are decaying just like the rest of the building. A strong scent of dust and sweat permeates the place, and the superstitious may claim to smell blood as well. The uneducated may argue that something useful could be built in this morbidly out of date structure's place.

Tour guides will say very differently; they speak of a time long past that saw great battles, when the accused literally fought for their lives against the forces of nature. Fear of prison stemmed from much more than a man's fellow inmates and guards. Enemies of Emperors met their ends here, and dissenters in the crowd were forced to cheer the deaths of their friends while wondering if they would be the beast's next meal. This structure, this theatre still symbolizes the power held by this city when it was the capital of the known world.

Modern day students sigh as the tour guide drones on. The kids desperately try to fan themselves in the extreme heat. The temperature is actually high enough that their shoes left imprints in the soft black top pavement by the ticket booth. Many glance longingly at the gelato stand across the street. They rejoice when the guide brings them into the shade for a bit. Now that their hot minds are relieved of the heat for a moment, they drink in the guide's informative and interesting speech.

The history is lost on some of the chaperones, though. Their cameras click wildly, but their focus is to create a great scrapbook for the vacation, not to learn about the places they visit.

"I can't believe it's this hot!" one mother complains. "I wouldn't have brought my jacket today if I'd known it would be this bad."

Another, more geographically inclined mother turns to her and says, "This close to the equator, what were you expecting?"

"I thought it would be like Florida," says the first woman as she fans herself with the information brochure.

"Don't worry," says one of the first women's friends. "I think we're going to the Forum next, and I'm almost certain it's air conditioned." The two women sigh happily; the geographically inclined woman bites her lip to stifle a laugh.

"Mom, what's so funny?" her daughter asks (the tour guide has stopped talking to give the students a chance to explore on their own).

The mother relates the conversation she just had and the statement she overheard. She points past Constantine's Arch to more ruins across the street. "That's the Roman Forum. I think they're confusing it with the casino in Vegas."