Luang Prabang, April 2016

It’s approximately 2 or 3 am. Jason (the Italo-American hotel manager) and I are the only two survivors for the night at the backyard table. As usual, other guests have been at the table for a couple of hours sharing each other’s stories but this night everybody went to bed already. It’s my fifth night at the hostel and is the first time I remain alone with Jason. He has been living a hard life. And you can see the signs on his body. He looks a bit older than he actually is. His stories seem to come out of Goodfellas or Donnie Brasco. They are stories of an America of opportunities but also of suffering. I like the way he opens his heart. I listen carefully to him. Sometimes I miss the meaning of his words because it gets to slangish but I feel his message reaches me. I feel we are connected. I wish I could relieve some of his pain, but I don’t think I can.

After he has been talking for a long while, he looks at me and throw the ball to me: “And you? What about you?”

This is always a tough question for me. ‘Who am I?’ is the real question. We often reply with ‘what we do’ or ‘where we come from’ (our past). But this doesn’t completely answer the question.

“Jason, my life is way simpler than yours. I have no idea of what might be worth sharing and if you would find anything interesting in it” it’s all that comes out of my mouth. Then we keep silent for a while. Meanwhile I think to what could have been a better answer (not difficult!).

“What do you want to know?

I am not a great talker. I enjoy more to listen to other people’s stories than to share mine. I know this is not completely fair but it is hard to help it. I am working on it, though.

I love to travel. And that’s what brought me here. I love to travel probably more as a mean that as an end to itself. A mean to discover as diverse people as possible. A mean to learn and eventually grow as a person.

I know where I come from but not sure where I am heading to.

In the back of my mind I have been planning this trip for a long time, saving money and making sure not to create too tight bonds. I tried to make sure that, once I was ready to leave, nobody or nothing would try to stop me. And this hasn’t always been easy.

Now I am here, and this is what really matter to me. This variety of people is what attracts me the most. We are all in transition, aren’t we? I think this is a transition phase for me. This is not my end state. I want to see many different places and meet many diverse people. I want to tire myself by moving from one place to the other. And when I am tired of this crazy wandering around I want to settle down.

I want to fall in love. Deeply. Unconditionally.

Sometimes I am afraid I am not able anymore. To fall in love, I mean.

I rarely find someone who attracts me. And when I do, rarely it’s a simultaneous flame.

Probably it’s just life. You have to be patient. Probably I will be hit by love when I least expect it. At least I hope so.”

This is what I would have liked to say to my friend Jason. But I didn’t. We just said goodnight to each other. The morning after I hit the road toward Vang Vieng. But before leaving, I felt like leaving a goodbye note:

“Jason,

It was time for me to hit the road again. This was the best stop of my trip so far. Great place, incredible (even if tough) stories and characters from all over the world.

Do fucking take the time to write your TV show (or book, or whatever it is going to be). It might not be content for everybody but it is definitely worth to be told.

You have a great heart,

Mattia”

Hope the message reached him and that I will hear again from this guy. He deserves better than he has.