I was recently living it up in Rome when I found myself at the Villa Aurelia overlooking the moonlit city. The party was sponsored by the fancy schmancy American Academy, which pays distinguished scholars to come chill in Rome and write esoteric books.

Since I don’t speak Italian, and I don’t know anyone in the Roman art or scholarly world, I felt a bit awkward — the way you do when you attend the wedding of a childhood babysitter or a second cousin. Nonetheless, I managed to meet a partially British guy raised in Rome who just happened to know many of my childhood and college friends. It turns out that he lived in my small New England hometown for a year, and I used to jog right by his mother’s old house.

The encounter was like an ironic illustration of the clichéd expression: “No matter how far you travel, you can never escape your home.” Even in romantic Italy, the Puritans come creeping in.

- Haley Hogan

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