I was walking through the winding, cobblestone streets of Siena on a hot June afternoon when the realization struck: I was living in Italy. I spent this past summer in Siena, a city that shares my name. My mind often wanders back to those streets as I pore over my Latin vocabulary and declensions (if you know you know) in the L&B reading room in Sterling.
Italy taught me to slow down. To spend two hours sipping coffee or an aperitivo with friends, letting conversation drift over laughter. To strike up conversations with strangers in the streets, discovering shared smiles across language barriers. To offer compliments freely — ciao bello! — to notice small ancient family crests tucked inside churches like hidden Easter eggs and listen to locals converse.
