It’s a beautiful sunny Thursday afternoon in Rome. I’m sitting on a wall overlooking the hectic Via dei Fori Imperiali. Cars, buses and scooters stream by, tourists crawl everywhere, and an Italian couple is making out in front of me.

Across the way is a basilica from 312 A.D. and Santa Francesca Romana, a medieval church built on an old Roman temple. To my left is the Colosseum, built by the emperors in the first century for gladiatorial combat, now a massive tourist draw. It is my twenty-third day of vita a Roma, life in Rome.

This column isn’t a quaint little story about the time I went to Europe and how many cool photos I took, and it isn’t an attempt to verbalize the wonder and mystery of Italy. It also isn’t a chronicle of my life this semester. It’s only been three weeks, and already I could write a novel.

I had a good idea for my return: Instead of writing a novel, I’ll find some computer engineers and write a video game, “Matt’s Roman Adventures.”

That will get more attention from some of my video-game-obsessed friends than any book would. The game will include mucho violence, although I’m not sure yet who the bad guys are, and you’ll earn bonus points for every big meatball sandwich you eat or Italian woman with whom you talk.

Anyway, think of this column as a polaroid camera or a collection of brief snapshots. During the semester, some snapshots will be completely random, others will be more researched. The goal overall is to inform you, to make you think and to motivate you to explore study abroad opportunities yourself.

These snapshots won’t be entirely representative of my Rome experience. A huge part of my semester here is schoolwork. I’m learning so much about history and architecture, classes are wonderfully intense, and studio projects are consuming my life. But I won’t spend much time on this in my writings. Instead, I’ll focus on topics that are more relevant to everyday life in Ames and appeal to everybody, even non-architects.

The topic now is “sensations.” First, there’s the sensation of people walking by the Pantheon.

There’s a fountain, a super historic building, an outdoor McDonald’s, and it’s only blocks from Iowa State’s studio, so it’s a perfect place to chill. People are everywhere — busloads of senior citizens from America and Japan on tours, students with their books, Italian teenagers clutching bottles of wine, mimes and musicians asking for extra lira. What an entertaining collection of randomness.

The closest comparison for it is Veishea, with one big difference. In Rome, there are no Veishea exec members running around with polos and walkie-talkies, trying to run you over with their golf carts. But there are plenty of motorini (scooters) to take their place, and they’ll run you over just as readily.

Then there’s the sensation of crossing Piazza Venezia, the heart of the city, surrounded by buildings, monuments and Mussolini’s old office. It is always jammed with traffic.

At first glance, the thousands of cars and buses appear completely random. There are no stoplights or crosswalks; the only way to cross as a pedestrian is to literally walk right into fast-moving traffic.

It’s one of those experiences that makes your heart beat faster and makes you happy to be alive.

Kind of like when you’re on campus after snowfall, and you look into the jaws of death as one of those whirling wire brush machines starts moving down the sidewalk towards you. The key here is confidence. (Don’t try this with a whirly brush machine.)

As a general rule, Italian drivers won’t hit you if you look like you know what you’re doing. You just have to suck it up and walk. It is similar to going into an architecture review for a studio project. Every indication as you go in says you’re going to get killed, and the only way to survive is to have confidence and keep going — if you flinch or show any weakness, you’re in trouble.

Another sensation is viewing incredible art and architectural treasures. There’s so much, from Trevi Fountain to the Spanish Steps to the Campidoglio.

Last week, I saw an original Caravoggio painting, “The Crucifixion of Peter.” This painting was so overwhelming, I thought I was going to cry just looking at it.

The final sensation now is the feeling of being surrounded by so much knowledge, about history, culture, art, language, architecture, religion — you name it.

This is an abstract analogy, so follow closely: Take Lake Laverne, and instead of water, fill it with nice soup, like Campbell’s double noodle, and you are swimming in the middle.

That’s what it’s like to be swimming in the sea of knowledge that is Rome. There’s all sorts of interesting things in the broth around you. Occasionally, you’ll find real treasure, like a sunken washing machine or an old goalpost. Other times, look out for the rabid swans that will bite your arm off.

That’s the news from Rome. Matt out.

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Matt Ostanik is a senior in architecture from Washington, Ill.