When in Rome Part 2...Life in the Ruins

Mike, Daphni and I spent the day at the Roman Forum and the Colosseum, wandering through the ruins of a great ancient city.    Their government and society were very advanced, yet many of their practices were barbaric by our standards.

For instance, it was a dubious honor to be chosen a Vestal Virgin.  Girls from noble families were recruited into thirty years of service, and chastity, in exchange for a large dowry and the opportunity to marry at the end of their term.  They were keepers of the eternal flame for the city, and had box seats to all sporting and social events.  

But if a Vestal Virgin was found to be impure—she was given a loaf of bread and a lamp and buried alive.  Harsh. 

And Gladiators?  Most gladiators were slaves and captured enemy soldiers who fought to the death in front of 50,000 screaming fans.  Sure, a guy could work his way up through the ranks, but turnover was huge.  During opening week at the Colosseum, 2,000 men and 9,000 lions, tigers and bears were slaughtered for sport. 

It made our football and hockey games seem pretty tame by comparison.  I wonder what hockey would be like if wild animals were released onto the ice unexpectedly during the games?

Mike (reading from guidebook):  “Caligula was not a nice person. He tortured enemies, stole senators’ wives, and parked his chariot in handicapped spots.” 

Daphni:  “Really?” 

Mike smiled.  Gotcha.

Rome is full of ruins.  I imagine every time excavation starts for a new building, the crews discover ruins.  Many newer buildings are built around ruins, paying homage to the past while filling the needs of the present.

It makes you wonder how much is out there, buried, that we know nothing about. 

Daphni mused, “I wonder what tourists would find interesting if they were touring the ruins of one of our cities, a couple thousand years from now?’

That got us rolling:

“Citizens used to congregate here to drink overpriced coffee and communicate on a variety of electronic devices.”

“Countless women allowed surgeons to maim them as they sought to emulate an ideal physical form.”

Styrofoam plates and cups, vinyl fences and siding would have hardly decomposed.  Would our books survive?  Our photos?  Maybe the art projects our kids made in elementary school? 

There would be one lonely shoe, lying beside a road. And miles and miles of coaxial cable. 

What about all the information we’ve amassed, stored, and backed up on our computer systems?  Tourists in the year 4012 might have a way to access what we knew.  Or maybe they would get an incomplete history, pieced together from what anthropologists found in the ruins.

What endures, and what passes away?  What is really important?  How will we be remembered?

It may not be up to us to say.