Every time I return to my parent’s small hometown of Soveria Manelli, located in southern Italy, I immediately go to the piazza. I don't post on Facebook or tweet about my arrival. I spend 20 minutes or so in the piazza and before I know it, I am greeted by about one-third of the town. And after just a few hours sipping iced coffee and exchanging stories, I am caught up with close family and friends that I only see once a year.

A piazza is so much more than just the center of town. It is so much more than tables and benches in a large open space. It’s the soul of the town. It's a location that is unifying and equalizing. Regardless of your social or economic status, the piazza is a place where you can enjoy countless card games, local bands and for our hometown, pasta eating contests. It is where information is shared and discussed. It is where children play, chasing each other in concentric circles. It's even where preteens overflowing with angst casually lean against railings complaining about the small town they live in and how they can't wait to leave.

When I was younger, my Grandpa, Nonno Rosario, would wait until everyone took their afternoon nap, scoop me some gelato and together we'd walk hand in hand to the piazza. There, he shared everything with me from town gossip to town history. From stories about my father's juvenile antics to the story of how he met my mother. In that piazza, he taught me everything I would need to know to understand my enormous extended family, made me feel included and reassured me that although I spent the majority of the year away from my extended family, he would make sure I didn't miss a thing. And beyond that, he listened to whatever juvenile issues I was having that summer and whatever fight I was currently in with my sister. No issue couldn’t be resolved in the piazza.

When we want to be informed of local happenings we go to Facebook, Instagram or even Google. In Soveria and small towns alike, they go to the piazza. They sit down and share moments they won't forget. When life events are posted on Facebook, I can hit the "like" button (and if I'm really happy, now the "love" button). When these momentous occasions are celebrated in the piazza, people rejoice together. They jump, embrace and laugh and that excitement will linger. Those very real and personal emotions will remain in the minds and hearts of those who partake. I engage in all sorts of social media and while I love how quickly information is spread, I can never have a response that shows me that my friends, or “followers” rather, are truly invested in what I am posting. And although I am a fan of ranting on my profile when I am bothered by something, I would give anything to be in the piazza with my Nonno Rosario venting about my issues, gelato in hand.