He had just walked out into the street in Rome, from the train station. Right away a man came to him trying to sell something, but he remembered reading a book, and how it suggested to stay away and don't even speak to people like that. So, he walked right past the man trying to sell whatever bullshit tourist thing he was trying to sell.
The directions he had to the hostel were pretty clear, so he wasn't worried about getting lost on the streets. Yet as soon as he stepped onto the side walk, what little there was, he seemed to feel a little lost. The directions had nothing to do with it. It was an out-of-place feeling. Then from a near distance he heard a woman laughing. He looked around to see who it might be and maybe he'd go introduce himself. Following the laughter was a language he didn't understand. He smiled inside himself, and kept walking to the hostel with an unfamiliar, yet familiar feeling.
Through out the day of wondering the city, and purposely getting lost, he would hear people in their conversations, and laugh occasionally.
There was something about this simple act that struck him. What was he expecting? Did he expect people in Rome to laugh with an accent? We all sound the same when we laugh. Such simple acts we all share. A mother in China, Mexico, or Africa doesn't love their child any less than someone from back home.
Just to hear people from another part of the world laugh was worth the trip alone.
Egogahan
Nicholas D.
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