The Doyle Engaging Difference Program - Georgetown University

I always knew I wanted to study abroad in Italy. As a kid, I visited Rome and Florence with my mom, where I fell in love with the ancient architecture and the quiet ambience of the cities. Growing up in Vietnam, I was never too familiar with Catholicism. Thus, seeing grand cathedrals for the first time with my own eyes, I couldn’t help but fall in love with the delicacy and details put into each window, ceiling, and the history each church carried. I promised myself I’d return to Italy one day—older, wiser, and maybe able to speak a little bit of Italian.

Through Georgetown, I spent my junior spring studying and learning Italian in Milan. I didn’t know what to expect from this new city. Milan was nothing like Rome or Florence–it felt more modern and reserved. Yet over the next four months, the city slowly became my home and the reserved rhythm at first was full of peace and wonder.

​Wandering: A Walk to Remember

I landed in Milan on a cold, rainy day in late January, but somehow the weather couldn’t cease my excitement to see everything the city had to offer. Next thing I knew, the first evening in Milan, despite having barely unpacked, I found myself in front of the Duomo di Milano stricken with awe. The square was covered with rain and pigeons, the sky was quite moody, but the cathedral glowed as if it was welcoming me to my new home.

I never expected how much the Duomo would become such a major part of my Milan experience. Every morning, I would walk past the Duomo to head to class. Whether I was in a hurry, with friends, alone, or reflective, the Duomo was still there, quiet yet impactful. “Locals don’t stare at the Duomo every time they walk past,” my friend told me. Yet, I couldn’t help but steal a glance every time. Sometimes it was a quick peek, other times I stopped and watched other people taking photos, sitting, or admiring the Duomo together. In a city that was so new and strange to me, the Duomo was the constant, just like its sacred and glowing presence. The Duomo brought people from all over the world, regardless of cultural and religious backgrounds, together, the same way it welcomed me to a city that once felt so unfamiliar. The Duomo walks marked the start of my cultural embrace journey, learning about Italy and its relationship with religions through visiting cathedrals, museums, and immersing myself in daily life.

​Wondering: Languages, Culture, and People

One of the highlights of my Milan semester was studying Italian for 4 months. Before my first Italian lesson, the only word I knew was ciao, as it is similar to hello in Vietnamese xin chào. In my first lesson, the professor asked us to come up with goals we wanted to achieve by the end of the program. Mine was simple: I wanted to be able to order in Italian at cafés and restaurants. I was excited to experience the coffee culture in Italy, and I thought that being able to (at least) try to speak the language when ordering would enhance my experience. When I finally learned the phrases for ordering, I tested them out right away. My first attempt was far from smooth, but the cashier smiled warmly and giggled at my beginner Italian. That moment of mutual amusement made me feel welcomed.

After that, I kept ordering in Italian—the second time, the third, the tenth. Each time brought a deeper sense of connection to Milan and the people around me. Italian coffee drew me in, but it was the interactions with cashiers, baristas, and shopkeepers that made me fall in love with the language. As I continued my lessons in Italian, I got to learn about the different sayings, one of which was Buon Natale! which means “Merry Christmas.” I later learned that the word Natale was rooted in the word “birth” in Latin (which I also knew, being born is nascere). Therefore, wishing each other “Merry Christmas” in Italy also equates to wishing them, literally, a “good birth.” Through learning Italian, I got a deeper understanding of the relationship between language, culture, and religion.

​Wander and Wonder: It's Okay to Slow Down

Living in Milan taught me something I didn’t expect: how to slow down.

Back at Georgetown, my days are usually packed—classes, meetings, errands, assignments. Productivity often feels like the goal. But in Milan, I started to notice how life moved at a quiet and more peaceful pace. People lingered over coffee without rushing. Shops closed for long lunch breaks. Sundays felt quiet, restful, almost sacred.

At first, I was frustrated. Restaurants took longer than I was used to. My favorite café closed at 2 p.m. on Sundays. But eventually, I adapted. I started taking long walks with no destination. I learned to wait without checking my phone. I took two-hour train rides not for the destination, but to stare out the window and watch the mountains and lakes roll by.

In this stillness and wander, I found space to wonder and reflect, not just on my experience abroad, but on myself. In a country I’ve never lived in before, I had the permission to pause and start fresh. In a space where my only certainty was myself, I learned to listen to myself and live more intentionally. I hoped to carry that mindset with me back at Georgetown: to walk a little slower, to listen a bit longer, and to leave more room for wonder.