Translated Wanderings

For me, Cambodia bordered the fine line between shocking and revolting: a deplorable scenario. I think I might have had a bit of a bad luck. But there was a moment when my life as a critical human being met my life as a student/lover of this chaotic world of translation and made my trip a really significant experience:
I was sitting by the ruins of the Ta Phron Temple, in Siam Reap, taking some rest from the long walks and waiting for the rest of my group. An old Italian man in his mid-sixties, I suppose, came along accompanied by his tour-guide. From the little I know of Italian, I noticed that the guide was telling his old mate that we were Brazilians. So the guide introduced himself to us.
He was speaking Portuguese. Portuguese - that short branch of our Latin tree.
As the guide was introducing himself and asking where we lived in Brazil, the Italian gentleman was promoting his companion (in Italian): “Splendid! I totally recommend! Speaks six languages!” (and, as a good Italian, making the representation of everything with his hands).
As my friends were asking, the guide was telling us that he spoke English, French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese and Russian. He also said that he lived of his guided tours to the temples of Siam Reap. He talked in details (without the customary stereotypes) about the Brazilian culture, cities and their respective representativeness in Brazil… he even talked about Dilma, our current president.
And he has never been outside Cambodia.
At that moment, I was in an overwhelming state of “stupefaction”. I couldn't stop looking at that modest young man who wasn’t taller than 1.60m, looking at him with such admiration that for a moment I felt quite like a flabbergasted anthropologist before her subject matter.
On the other hand, as a student of this mysterious and fascinating language world, I sure had a million questions and comments to make to that brilliant polyglot bubbling in my mind (and a feeling of “groupie-ness” as well). Yet all I could do was to keep listening to him.
Our encounter was brief – it lasted about 10 minutes, since they were already leaving. They were immediately waving good-byes, following their path. It was time enough for me to make my only (and poorly elaborated) question, loudly enough for them to hear me:
-“so, how did you learn how to speak Portuguese so well?”
The guide slowed his pace, turned to me and said with a smile:
“With books”.
Oh… Of course. Those paper treasures that can change any reality.