In a short, but poignant video, Trinna Leong captures the Religio staff’s most memorable experiences from day 1 at the baggage claim in Rome’s Fiumicino airport to the farewell dinner on our last night.

We laughed, we cried and took a lot of pictures during our time in Italy. Here, the Religio staff ponders its favorite moments from our 10-day adventure…

Neha Tara Mehta and Hoda Emam in Bari. | Photo by Michael Wilner.

“Naples has to be the creepiest city in the world, and that eeriness triples at night. My favorite moment was walking around the city with some classmates, furtively looking down dark, abandoned streets, hoping that nothing would jump out from within the dark crypts of the many churches. Finally, we countered the terror of the night with the glow of freshly baked pizza, stuffed as we were from our four-course meal only an hour before. As amazing as our learning experiences were, nothing stands out like snapshot moments with friends.” — Anne Cohen

“From the moment we arrived in Italy it was non-stop running from one meeting point to another. I was determined to take in every bit of this exciting experience. It wasn’t until we were on the bus heading to Naples that I peered out the window–at the sprawling hills with wind turbines perched on top, endless green pastures with herds of sheep and beautiful country cottages tucked behind grape vineyards–that the intense experiences of Rome hit me. I quickly took out my laptop and began typing every minute and grand experience. I remembered the sweet lady I met on the train to Laurentina who was determined to hold a discussion with me using the few words she knew in Spanish. She patted my hand gently as she described her experiences of seeing Pope John Paul II at the Vatican. Then there were the goose bumps, heart palpitations and sudden anxiety of heading to an unfamiliar location and landing a great story, a familiar feeling that I crave often. I watched as every scene perfectly unfolded before my eyes as if someone is flipping the pages of a book.  It was an incredible feeling to know that God wanted me to be in Italy and in that exact location at that very moment. The events and experiences on our trip to Italy serve me a reminder of why I have chosen this career path and why no other profession will suffice.” — Hoda Emam

Professor Goldman at the Islamic Center of Rome. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

“Entering the Sistine Chapel was truly one of the most amazing experiences – not simply on our journey but of my life. I remember learning about Michelangelo’s work as a young boy but witnessing it first hand left me speechless. Although it was prohibited to take photos, the images will forever be with me.” — Brandon Gates

“Professor Stille and I had been planning the study tour of Italy for a full year. I even got to Rome a day early to make sure that I — and the city — were ready for you. I rode the bus to Leonardo da Vinci Airport on Friday to pick up the class. My favorite moment was when I saw you coming through the gate. The adventure was beginning!” — Professor Goldman.

“Like most days of our Italian sojourn, the fourth saw us functioning at warp speed. We spent the morning lost in the galleries of the Vatican Museum, trying to keep up with Dr. Lev’s fascinating explanations. Later that same day, we wandered into The Community of Sant’Egidio’s headquarters in Trastevere, Rome. As we entered a resplendent courtyard, brimming with flowers and the errant souls of nuns long passed, there was an overwhelming sense of quiet. At 6 p.m., in the middle of our conversation with representatives of The Community, the courtyard bells began to chime and everyone turned silent until the bells had stopped. It was explained to us that a moment of silence is observed by all at The Community at the same time every day to encourage tranquility and self-reflection. This was something I had craved but not had much to time to indulge in since our arrival in Rome. I was therefore extremely grateful to have had a few moments to be lost in thought in such a beautiful setting. — Raya Jalabi

“As the sun set over the valley below, three classmates and I sat on the crumbling wall of a 12th century castle, eating bread and cheese bought from a local food purveyor. As I threw an olive pit over the wall into the abyss below, and the bells of San Michele rang in the distance,I had one of those ‘pinch me I’m dreaming’ moments – it felt cliched in an absolutely perfect sort of way.” — Sarah Laing

“We were so caught up with reporting during our six days in Rome that the very rare moments that we get to stop, take a deep breath and soak in the sights really meant more than we thought it would. Two moments stood out for me. The first was walking into Raphael’s Rooms and the Sistine Chapel. The second was going to Trevi Fountain at 2a.m. without the throngs of tourists pushing about for a view. Those were my quiet reflective moments – the spiritual energizer to keep going and a reminder that if Michelangelo can achieve the “impossible”, these obstacles that I face are nothing compared to that. — Trinna Leong

Teresa Mahoney interviewing nuns. l Photo by Trinna Leong.

“It was our second day in Rome and Trinna and I were wandering around Campo dei Fiori, one of Rome’s main squares host to lively cafes, restaurants and street artists. We instantly spotted a cluster of about 10-15 nuns, who one at a time, entered a nearby church, then walked out about five minutes later. We were instantly curious. After some hesitation, thinking maybe I’d be interrupting some kind of sacred prayer ceremony, I approached the group and asked what they were doing. I was directed towards the head nun, Sister Teresita (coincidence?), who spoke English and for some reason I was surprised by her answer: They were travelling through Rome and were taking turns using the bathroom in the church. Though it’s easy to be humbled by the immense grace of women so passionately committed to their work and prayer life, I was reminded that nuns are human too.” — Teresa Mahoney

After nearly ten days of non-stop reporting, the serendipitous discovery of a castle in San Michele with a sweeping view of the valley beneath took us back to another time and place. Nothing seemed more important, urgent and compelling than just lying back and watching the slopes cascading beneath us claim the sun for the night. — Neha Tara Mehta

“The roadtrip from Rome to Ardea, getting lost and being welcomed by a Rom family into their home were easily some of the most memorable adventures in Italy. But meeting Father Igor from the Russian Orthodox Church was the pivotal moment that made all of that possible. He graciously gave us the phone number of a Rom gypsy, Zoran, who immediately invited us to his house when we called, saying Father Igor was a great man and that he’d be happy to take us to a gypsy camp outside of Rome the next afternoon. That short phone call left me with an incredible sense of excitement for the adventure ahead. — Bogdan Mohora

Bodgan Mohora and Anne Cohen in San Michele. | Photo by Michael Wilner.

“Few moments in life can beat seeing the ex-President of your country clean up your dinner plate – but that’s exactly what happened at the Lay Center at Foyer Unitas Rome, where we were guests to dinner on a Friday night. A middle-aged woman had introduced herself to us as “Mary”, and I was happy to hear her Irish accent, but feelings of embarrassment quickly took over as I realized that plain old “Mary” was in fact Mary McAleese, the President of Ireland until very recently. I wasn’t seated at her table, but I spoke to her after dinner. She was chatty and friendly, as she carried our empty and half-empty plates to the kitchen, rolled up her sleeves, and began washing.” — Ines Novacic

“My favorite moment was our visit to the Romanian Orthodox church. Their monastery is a very special place, located in the outskirts of Rome and surrounded by vineyards. We were received with open arms by Bishop Siluan Span and two nuns, who talked about the church’s struggle to reverse the negative stereotype of the Romanian community in Italy, usually associated with crime and illegality. I felt privileged to be there in such amazing circumstances, with the opportunity to have a peek into their lives and their faith.” — Andrea Palatnik

“Getting lost  — whether in the nooks and crannies of San Michele streets while hunting for a castle to watch the sunset or roaming from Trastevere to the Colosseum taking every wrong turn possible. But always feeling found — whether in a professor’s embrace at Rome’s airport, at the home of a gypsy family who could only communicate with me in smiles not words, or being reunited with my classmates after a five-hour midnight train ride from Rome to Foggia.” — Neha Prakash

“I went to a Catholic high school, so seeing the manifestations of all that I had studied was, in a word, breathtaking. At various different points throughout the trip, I felt I was almost walking through history – both mythical and Christian. Though much has been changed and modernized about Italy and its major cities, I felt there was a level of respect for the spirit of history that had passed through the streets of Rome, evident in the majestic old buildings and stories of old that seeped through every cobblestone. It was overwhelming – in a beautiful way.” — Anam Siddiq

Professor Stille and the Romanian Orthodox nuns. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

“Several things stay in my mind from our Italian trip. A fresco I had never seen in the Vatican Museums: on the ceiling of the Sala Costantina the extraordinary image of a ancient marble statue that shatters when placed in front of the crucifix, an amazing illusionistic painting by a Sicilian artist I had never heard of named Tommaso Laureti. The gorgeous cloister of San Gregorio Armeno in Naples with its wood ceiling carved into the most beautiful sculptures. The bizarre Renzo Piano church dedicated to Padre Pio: in the crypt where S. Pio’s body lies there are mosaics of the life of Christ and then in the corridor outside, one wall shows the life of Saint Francis and on the opposite wall, the life of Padre Pio. The iconography was very striking: three figures who all received the stigmata, Christ, Saint Francis and Padre Pio. But also extremely impressive to me were the efforts of our students who were busy tracking down stories, drumming up sources and running off to do interviews between sightseeing outings and programmed visits. Hoda found a whole hotel full of Libyan war refugees with amazing stories and stayed most of the night with Nathan and Francesca to film their tales. Neha (Prakash) and Bogdan who showed such initiative in tracking down sources in the Roma community, rented a car to meet them and visited a gypsy encampment. And discovered that the Christian gypsies have the same negative stereotypes about Muslim gypsies as most Italians do about gypsies in general: they’re criminals, dirty and they make trouble. Both these were rich interesting stories that I hadn’t seen in the Italian press and they were done by young American journalists operating at a considerable disadvantage, straight off the plane with no Italian language skills. But they showed real enterprise and commitment.” — Professor Stille.

Francesca Trianni and Brandon Gates watch the sunset on Monte Sant'Angelo San Michele. | Photo by Andrea Palatnik.

“For my story, I spoke with an Italian Jewish woman who had survived the Holocaust. She couldn’t speak English, and so we conversed with the aid of her daughter, who acted as a translator. At one point in the interview, I asked her if the years that have passed since World War II have helped her mitigate the horrors she had faced as a five year old in 1943, one of which was her 17-year-old brother’s death at Auschwitz. Her eyes brimming with tears, she looked at me straight in the eye to answer; and this time, I didn’t need a translator to understand what she was saying. She placed her hand over her heart, and replied, ‘It never goes away. It still hurts inside.’” — Aby Sam Thomas

“Whether it was listening to the stories of Libyan rebels in a Roman hotel with Hoda and Nathan, visiting a Rom camp with Bogdan and Neha P., or asking a group of gay Catholics about their lives in Rome, my favorite moments were all the ones that helped me look at my country, and its dynamics, with fresh eyes. All these encounters were incredibly inspiring, and introduced me to an “Italy” I had never met before.” — Francesca Trianni

“My favorite moment was jogging to the Colosseum with Francesca and licking the Colosseum after an all-night reporting marathon. It was dawn and the city was serene and quiet and we were both exhausted but we ran the whole way. We took some pictures of the majestic structure and Francesca graciously did not judge me as I licked the place where gladiators battled centuries ago.” — Nathan Vickers

“Waking up to church bells in San Michele reminded me of the Muslim call to prayer. Between this experience, the chaotic noises of Naples and the tranquil melodies of the vespers in Rome, I’d have to say my greatest memories from the trip will revolve around tremendous sound.” — Michael Wilner

Small Portrait hanging in the Casa Sollievo della Sofferenza hospital. | Photo by Nathan Vickers.

Padre Pio, easily the most popular saint of the 20th century was famous for his miracles and mysticism. One of his most striking features were his eyes. Many people in our class found his striking, deeply set eyes unsettling. But the followers we talked to found them inspiring, even comforting. One nun I talked to said, “Padre Pio had innocent eyes.”

Regardless, his piercing gaze is as easily recognizable as his tremendous beard and the trademark half-gloves he wore to cover up the stigmata on his hands. Images depicting an aged Padre Pio depict the lack of sleep the monk reportedly underwent in order to spend time meditating, praying, and even battling demons.

Vespas parked in front of a mural on the wall of a shuttered shop. | Photo by Trinna Leong.

A stark contrast to Rome, Napoli — as the Italians call it — is littered with garbage and graffiti. Though trash and pickpockets are everywhere, the city’s complicated history has created a unique façade for travelers to visit. Once a Greek colony, Naples later became a part of the Roman Republic and has over the years became a melting pot of different cultures and people. In modern times, however, local gangs control the city and this background gives the city a rough polish that one does not find in Rome. Graffiti on new and ancient walls, on monuments and on streets are not uncommon and have left an indelible mark on the city’s identity.

Websites like www.fatcap.com even has a page dedicated to all the graffiti found in Naples. One cannot miss the graffiti on the walls along streets and alleyways. Whether one chooses to view these as vandalism or art, is another question entirely…  Most of us had never been to Naples and did not know what to expect of the city. Having been to Rome earlier in the week, the sight of words and pictures sprayed coherently or incoherently everywhere in public spaces looks oddly jarring when placed against Baroque and Medieval buildings. Churches tucked in tight narrow streets have piles of garbage in one corner and slogans like “Mastiffs” or “Papa Vero” scribbled in ink on adjacent walls. In some cultures, this could be seen as offensive and disrespectful to a place of worship. But in Naples, no one seems to be bothered at all. “Mastiffs” is a local soccer team in Naples, and in Italy, soccer is king.

My initial reaction to the preposterous amount of graffiti everywhere was one of shock and bewilderment at the lack of appreciation Neapolitans show toward historic monuments. Buildings and statues that should have been treasured and taken care of have less than pretty words sprayed across them. It took a few hours before I calmed down and noticed that the words add a touch of character to the city and complement its tough image. I had to remind myself that this is not Rome. Naples is all about street cred and tourists who come to Naples should not expect to be greeted by a quaint city.

It soon became a game of “spot cool graffiti” as we tried to capture works of art with our cameras. From sentences that vented out people’s frustrations with the mafia (particularly the Camorra), religious devotion to saints and political activism, Naples’ spray-painted streets are unconventionally iconic. Eating the city’s famed pizza by a pile of trash next to a wall of graffiti even gave us a sense that we are already Neapolitan. Graffiti art in Europe is different from New York. It’s not just words on the walls of an urban city, it’s about the blend of both old and new cultures, and that’s what makes Naples what it is today.

See a collection of various photographs of Neapolitan graffiti, culled from the Religio staff.

An early morning run took me by some of Rome’s most famous landmarks. As the sun came up, the city transformed from a quiet cluster of ancient buildings into the bustling tourist center it is today. But for the few minutes before dawn Rome resembled the city it was 2000 years ago.

Licking the Coliseum. | Photo by Francesca Trianni.

On the dawn of the Ides of March I licked the Colosseum.

In case you don’t get the reference, my “taste” in early morning activity was inspired by an episode of “How I Met Your Mother,” where two of the main characters licked the Liberty Bell just to say they did. But it wasn’t just a tongue-in-cheek reference to a television sitcom.

For me, licking the Colosseum represented making the most out of our class trip, which was my first time out of the United States. It was something I imagined no one had done before, at least not of their own volition. It also represented the climax to what was hands-down the best day of my life thus far.

You see, before I licked the colosseum I was with my classmate, Hoda Emam, and our teaching assistant, Francesca Trianni, interviewing Libyan refugees until the wee hours of the morning. You’ll find out more about that story later. I had never met a refugee before, and to interview people who had experienced such tragedy firsthand was in itself a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And before that, I had dinner with Mary McAlese, the former President of Ireland. The best part of the story is that I didn’t even realize it was her until Professor Goldman informed me after supper. I had never met a president before.

And before that, I was working with Hoda interviewing a diplomat from the Congo.

And before that, I visited a mosque for the first time. I had no idea what to expect, having received many condemning pamphlets and emails from conservative Missourians over the years.

Mismatched socks | Photo by Nathan Vickers

It was actually very nice, possibly one of the most open and friendly places of worship I have ever visited. I even stood on the prayer line, which would probably give many of my friends from home a heart attack.  But I didn’t realize we had to take off our shoes — it was the wrong day to wear mismatched socks.

And before the mosque I received a blessing from the pope at an Angelus service in St. Peter’s square. It was spectacular but I couldn’t manage to focus my camera as he passed.

It’s pretty amazing when taking a picture of the Pope is the low point of your day.

On our visit to Istituto Tevere we met Bahar Dik, a Muslim student studying Mediterranean culture and religion in Rome. She shared a story about struggling to find a place to pray during a trip to Assisi and how a shop owner opened her doors to her. I thought Bahar’s story about praying in the back of a stranger’s store was a beautiful example of what it means to truly accept and respect one another’s religious differences in a personal and tangible way.

Students at the Pontifical North American College in Rome pray during Sunday Mass. | Photo by Anam Siddiq.

I’m not a Catholic. I’m not a Christian. I’m not a man. But after our class tour of Pontifical North American College, a seminarian school in Rome, I’ve decided to join the priesthood. In any capacity they may take me — be it a gardener for their orange trees or a ball fetcher for their tennis court.

The one problem I’ve found in my years traveling is you begin to disregard the beauty in the world and history around you. Desensitized to the art, architecture and sculpted nature, you take for granted the beauty in the ornate and complex structures popping up in each corner.

North American College woke me up from that slumber.

When we passed through the doors into the courtyard, it was impossible not to smell the roses. This place seemed to smell holy or maybe I’ve just become accustomed to the New York City smells of garbage bags lining the streets and the halal cart food seeping into every sniff.

A cat strolled past our class, it lazed every now and then under the arching trees lining the pathway — even the animal seemed to know it had been given the keys to heaven in this peaceful and humbling place. The tolling bells summoned us to Mass; they seemed weirdly tranquil, as though they were finally in a place where they were free to chime, as they wanted, accepted and even welcomed at any hour.

We’ve also become numb to the sight of places of worship and people worshiping. There are only so many times you can listen to the recitation of the “Our Father” and still feel moved by sentiment and belief as opposed to becoming entranced by the pattern and flow of the words.

Mass with the seminarians at North American College was again something of an awakening.

It was simply beautiful to watch these men, so eager to learn and devote their lives to God, pray. The sacrament of Mass, no matter the fact that most of them attended Mass daily, seemed to invoke something invigorating and inspired in each of them. To watch each of them kneel and recite the “Our Father” in unison made me really hear the words I had heard for years before:

Thy kingdom come

thy will be done

on Earth as it is in Heaven

A few students pose on the rooftop of North American College overlooking St. Peter's Basilica. Taking in the sweeping view of Rome was a religious experience in itself. | Photo by Anam Siddiq.

It would make any nonbeliever have a glimmer of belief in God’s message, or at least in the devotion and spirituality each of these men sought in being one of God’s messengers.

That type of devotion cannot be taught, but only experienced.

On a side note: the seminary students eat their meals together in a gigantic cafeteria reminiscent of a summer camp mess hall that would shame our to-go meals from Brad’s. If that’s not enough to make you start your admission application, their luxurious library actually smells like books and does not have the incessant sounds of keyboards clacking or frustrated students cursing at editing equipment like the Stabile Student Center does— imagine the bliss.

Later, our tour guide John Paul Mitchell, a seminarian student, and coincidentally an alumnus of Columbia Journalism School, told us about the education each student at the school receives. They get “trained” in four areas, he said: academic, pastoral, spiritual and balance.

The fourth caught a few confused gazes, so Mitchell explained further.

It seems seminary school finds it important for their students to find balance in life and seek growth in their humanity.

I suddenly discovered what J-school was missing from their rigorous master’s schedule: a class in how to be a person.

So often as journalists, we only think of getting clips and quotes, shots and soundbytes. But just imagine for one moment, thinking about how we could be growing as people. And for one moment, standing on the rooftop of North American College overlooking St. Peter’s Basilica, I decided seminary school was the best education a person could receive, because it teaches you to appreciate life, humanity and yourself.

North American College wasn’t such a beautiful place because of its aesthetic nature, but because of the human nature fostered there.

So even if the seminarian school won’t accept me (Mitchell may have capped their quota for stressed out J-schoolers seeking peace), I’m adding a course in balance to the rest of my J-school days.