On Caelvm, Madrid’s famous conventiculum
Have you ever wanted to experience Madrid in August while staying a giant concrete block with no air conditioning? Neither have I!
Yet I go every single year and continue to sleep in one of the many cells, in this giant concrete block, not because I torturing myself in dangerously hot weather, but because I prefer to stay in the building where all the other cool people who love to read Latin literature are staying. That way I can not only attend lectures and classes with them, for those five fabulous days of spoken Latin, but also dine three times a day among fellow nerds, many of which I only see once a year for those few days. Hundreds of cool people show up! Well, cool by my very uncool standards.
What’s an average day like a CAELUM? In the morning, we all rush downstairs for breakfast to fuel up before the day’s lessons. For me that means something like a few cups of tea and chocolate croissants or, as the fancy people say, pain au chocolat- which, to my delight, is called napolitana in Spanish. This is perhaps one of three Spanish words that I can consistently produce, because they are delicious, although I am always surprised by how much I can understand passively. Anyway, breakfast is always fun because you get to start speaking Latin right then and there! If you’re lucky you might even get to sit next to one of the teachers. The teachers are my favorite.
After breakfast we all go upstairs to the second floor of the huge concrete tower to our individual classes. I have never taken a beginner class there, so I don’t know what they are quite like, but my understanding is that they use Familia Romana. From my first year at CAELUM, I always attended the most advanced classes, where we read authors both ancient and more recent. At the beginning of the course, everyone at the advanced level gets a booklet full of readings; they are usually very nice and contain much more than we will ever reading, which means - hooray! - when I get home I always have more things to read. Over the years, I have read Erasmus, Vergil, Pascoli, and more in these courses.
Throughout the day, the teachers change. They come from all over Europe and many are associated with other Latin schools. Perhaps the first lecture is given by, say, Mr. Luciano Romano from Schola Latina, the next, by someone from Oxford Latinitas, maybe the glamorous and learned Mrs. Natalia Čepeláková (who seems to me to be a famous actress, although she is not, because she makes YouTube videos with a real microphone and everything). The finest teacher of all, Mr. Roberto Carfagni, the benevolent patriarch of this madcap bunch, rarely teaches the advanced students, but can often be found before a group of rapt beginners, eagerly hanging on to his every word. The teachers often change year by year, too, and are announced in advance on the website. I often find myself checking the website almost every day in May, in anticipation of the eventual announcement.
Lunch is even more crowded than breakfast, because the students who aren’t sleeping in the concrete block eat with us at that hour, too. After lunch, there are often seminars to choose from on various topics. Some of these are on pedagogy, others on specific authors or works. These lectures are held not only by the teachers who teach the more formal courses in the morning, but also by others. Occasionally, instead of seminars, there will be an afternoon trip, maybe to the museum or botanical gardens. Last year we saw many amusing trees. Alas! The phone with which I captured their verdant likenesses has since been broken.
Some people also swim in the pool, perhaps in the hot afternoons, but I avoid doing so because I detest being seen in a bathing suit, even the special modest kind from Lands End which are not so modest, actually, because they still reveal most of one’s legs.
Dinner is less crowded than lunch, but always quite merry. One always finds someone interesting to speak to. Often it goes on for a very long time because everyone is so talkative. On a good day, everyone will be in such a bright mood that groups head off to a nearby bar to drink beer or, if you are me, watch everyone else drink beer while sipping water boringly. Although I did taste sangria there, once. One wonders what the poor local people think of all the strange foreigners showing up in groups of ten or more, speaking a fake-sounding language. I am sure they think we are basically posh trekkies, if they are even aware we are speaking Latin.
Sometimes we gather in a sort of lounge near the cafe downstairs, at the bottom of the great concrete tower, which is closed in the evenings, to play card or board games. If I am not mistaken, one of the more popular Latin podcasts if often recorded there. Women often gather in a circle to knit or sew, out of some unconscious ancient impulse. There are quite a lot of women, actually, which is nice because Spoken Latin can be something of a boy’s club at times. It is a wonderful, familial environment.
Perhaps I’ll see you there next year, candide lector!