On my last night in Lisbon, I had originally planned to go to a restaurant I had found online to listen to fado (a type of Portuguese lament music). On the way, I saw a line outside another restaurant, so I joined it. I ended up meeting four new friends behind me, from Colombia, Argentina, Italy, and the United States.
They mainly spoke Italian and Spanish with one another (I had not expected them to be mutually intelligible, but the Romance languages really are similar). They switched to English when speaking with me, though sometimes we had to rely on our American friend to translate (once again, I realized that English is the minority language in Europe).
The Colombian guy was a minor internet celebrity. It was a singer’s birthday that evening, and we all sang “Happy Birthday” together. A little while later, inspiration struck him, and he suggested that each of us explain how to say “Happy Birthday” in our own language. Without any preparation, he took out his phone, spoke at length in Spanish, and then handed it to me. One by one, we were all put on the spot and had to speak in different languages.
Then someone brought up tattoos. The Colombian guy asked whether I had any, so I showed them the whale, stars, and carpe diem on my left arm (carpe diem is Latin for “seize the day.” I made it my guiding principle in life after watching Dead Poets Society). To my surprise, he raised his own left arm and revealed the same words, carpe diem, along with half a sun. We were stunned, and the American guy said he absolutely had to take a photo of us.
Later, I thought about how it all seemed like fate. What were the odds that two people with the same tattoo in the same place would travel to the same country at the same time and meet outside the same restaurant?
I used to feel that most friendships made while traveling could only remain superficial, so for a long time I was reluctant to make friends on my journeys.
Now I have come to understand that it really comes down to the simple idea of “seizing the day.” At the moment we meet, our paths cross. We enjoy talking and spending a happy time together—whether for a few minutes or a few hours. We do not ask for it to last forever. Sometimes we do not even exchange social media accounts; we simply leave each other with our best wishes and then set off alone once more.
This process is really life in miniature. Some people accompany us for longer in life, such as partners and close friends, while others stay for less time, such as colleagues and casual friends. But overall, life is solitary, and it is a journey we must make alone. What matters is enjoying the present moment in which we accompany one another.