I walked through an old village in Portugal

the narrow streets winding up a steep hill

old row houses hugging the side of the road

every door was a painted in a bright color

decorative curtains adorned most windows

a sharp contrast to the drab stone walls

one of of the doors was wide open

an elderly lady leaning against the door frame

watching the tourists struggle up the hill

she was dressed all in black

offering a toothless smile greeting to all who went by

she said something in Portuguese as I passed

I stopped to listen to her

bring up a talking translate app on my phone

I spoke the words please repeat

my phone translated and her eyes lit up

she spoke more into the phone

I eagerly awaited the translation

who am I talking to on this phone she asked

I replied it was me pointing to myself

she could not comprehend that the phone was translating

asking next if I spoke Portuguese

shaking her head as my phone said no in her language

but you just answered in Portuguese she said

she was convinced somebody was on the phone translating

in desperation she started to ask questions

what color is my door

its bright red was the reply

she looked  around for somebody watching on another phone

are you a magician she asked

I hesitated and replied yes I am

she went inside and closed the door