Today I met Luigi from Italy who just happens to be a magician. He barely speaks English and I know no Italian, and surprisingly, we could manage some semblance of a conversation.
Luigi from Italy is quiet. He won't say much unless he is asked a question. He will smile politely and maybe look up from his meal every once in a while, but for the most part, he just listens and sits contently.
He traveled here with two sisters from his town of Torino, they help to translate for him when they can, and when he wishes to speak.
Today, over lunch, Luigi from Italy decided to tell me something. That he is a magician. A real one.
Less than 30 seconds later he had pulled a Euro coin out of thin air and was placing it back somewhere in the air a few minutes later. I was in shock. A real magician.
The last few days I have realized that we all have a different story to tell. Like Laura, who I met at the bus-stop in Madrid who moved to Spain from Mexico to study and has now made it her home, although she doesn't know for how long. Or Susaan who grew up in Iran and now lives in Portugal with her family. Or Nicholas, a French-man who was just transferred to Dublin to start a job that he has no idea how to do, or so he claims. Each a different story, each a different perspective, each bringing something new to the table. And sitting and listening to these stories, it makes you more human. It makes you humble and it makes you realize that we all are in this great big world just trying to make it and trying to be grateful and trying to be good.
It's been a really humbling few days. Kind. And humbling. And I feel more human.