I pull away my shades to scan the people. No one knows me here, and I feel somewhat isolated, but no one knows. I’m just another person in this crowd, in this foreign land. It doesn’t matter where I travel, I adjust. I look ahead, and the trek uphill doesn’t seem much easier without my sunglasses. I take a deep sigh, adjust my shades back in place, and continue my walk. The weather is just right, and it makes the hilly terrain seem a tad easier to conquer. The air here is fresh and soothing, so I take deep inhales. 

I scan the pleasant view, buildings in different pastel shades line the street. Each one has its own personality. Small iron balconies protrude from the second floor upwards, and pretty flowers droop in abundance through the iron railings. Each door shows years of history. The giant, rusted door knockers are worn from the many hands that have welcomed people in. You can feel the decades that have been added on to each structure. They go well with the cobbled road that makes my walk a little harder, but that much more interesting. 

There is hardly any space, with narrow pavements flooded by folks trying their best to walk within the boundaries, yet everyone is getting by. The cars brush past, making me uneasy, but I follow the crowd with ease. I can smell the freshly baked bread and the soothing aroma of coffee. It makes me want to sit and enjoy the simple pleasures. I find my exit from the bustling street, which leads to a steep stairwell; the uneven steps make me think harder about my next move. Each flight leads me deeper in a different direction. I feel lost amongst the foliage, but I feel excited as I make my way down the valley. Funny, isn’t it? How we can get accustomed to our surroundings more easily than we think? 

I open the ginormous carved wooden door and walk back in time. Rich architecture and permanently embossed aesthetics line the walls and ceiling. I touch the engravings as if they don’t seem real. It shows centuries of protected art. Naked figures tell a story of how life was. Our ancestors worked hard and left us much to be appreciated. It’s another world, another culture, and the people I got to meet on this journey made for an adventure of its own. So much is different, and yet beneath it all, so much of who we are remains unchanged. On this journey, I learned a great deal about people. We each have a history, and we recall past experiences because they show how we lived and persevered. I am open to learning more. I haven’t experienced enough, and yet my own past experiences are what fascinate strangers. 

The process of living a fruitful life passes us by, and we forget the true meaning. At some point in one’s life, we find the ability to succumb to the present, letting go of things that would otherwise have burdened us. With age, it becomes easier to do. We think we’re in control, and yet we have so little control over much. What is going to happen will happen no matter how much you deny the inevitable. There is no point fighting; it will make the journey that much more difficult. 

When I left home for this solo trip, there was no one standing at my door to wish me a safe journey and say goodbye, and when I return, there will be no one to greet me with open arms. I felt sad in between those two gestures. Yet life has gifted me people who took it upon themselves to stay in touch with me. Every day, there were notifications on my phone from people who missed me; they checked in on me frequently. I’m loved more than I thought, appreciated more than I knew.

It doesn’t matter who we follow, what we believe, and who we honor; what matters is that we remain true to ourselves and to those who mean something to us. Giving your time to someone means a great deal. If someone is taking the time to stay in contact, it means they care; hold on to that person. Each one of us can do our part if we become a little less selfish, a little more accommodating, and a lot more understanding. 

I make my way back up the steps and encounter a lost couple. Even though I don’t understand the dialect, I manage to signal to satisfy the directions they need. The old gentleman pats my back as his wife grabs my hand, squeezes it as if I solved a life problem for them. I stand and watch them walk away. I begin to rethink this journey and everything new I learned.  I am just another person in this crowd, but to one person seeking guidance, I could mean so much more.