Estrella

I sit here, writing this post on the 29th day of March, which is my birthday. No one could have predicted how my birthday would have turned out this year, in the midst of the global coronavirus epidemic - least of all me. But as I commemorate my birthday here in a foreign country without friends or family, the best thing that I can do today is to remind myself of who I am truly am and how this virus won't defeat me or this world. For after love, I would say that the second most powerful force in this world is storytelling, especially the stories we tell ourselves - stories about our origins, our peoples and our faiths. In the midst of pain, we can find hope and strength from the stories that we tell ourselves. How will my story end? I don't know exactly. But I know that my faith has one story to tell, and that is the story that I cling to most dearly in dark times like these.

Reflections from My Time in Italy As I write this memento on my trip back to the States, I don’t leave Italy with any regrets because I lived. No, I didn’t visit every small town on the weekends or travel to Brussels or Geneva for fun, but I can say I became integrated into the local thread of Bologna. I entered Italy knowing zero Italian to speaking Italian every day with my italiana roommate. And I could understand between 60 to 70 percent depending on the context and accent. I had an Italian boyfriend and became exposed to the culture of love. We visited the palazzi , danced in the streets and drank classic red wine in Eataly and local bars on Saturday nights. There is no better life than the one the Italians live. Yes, it was hard adjusting to European culture those first two months. I didn’t know the language, I had to commute via cycling (which was frightening among the taxis, motorinos , and other cyclists), and I broke my foot. And let’s not even mention the devast...