One fine morning three rockets took off...

One fine morning three rockets took off from three different places on Earth. In the first there was an American, happily whistling a bit of jazz. In the second there was a Russian, singing “The Song of the Volga Boatman.” In the third there was a Chinese, singing a beautiful song--though the other two thought he was all out of tune.

Each wanted to be the first man to set foot on Mars, because he wanted to show that he was the best.

It so happened that the American didn’t like the Russian, and the Russian didn’t like the Chinese, and the Chinese was suspicious of the other two. This was because the American, to greet somebody, said, “How do you do?” and the Russian said “...........” and the Chinese said “...........” They didn’t understand one another, and each thought the other two were peculiar. . . .

Then night fell. There was a curious silence all around, and Earth shone in the sky as if it were a distant star.

The astronauts felt sad and lost, and in the darkness the American called for his mother.

“Mommy,” he said.

And the Russian said: “Mamochka.”

And the Chinese said: “Mama.”

But they realized almost at once that they were saying the same thing and feeling the same feelings. So they smiled at one another, moved closer, and together lit a nice little fire, and each sang the songs of his home country. Their spirits were raised, and, as they waited for morning, they got to know one another.

Excerpt from “The Three Astronauts” by Umberto Eco and Eugenio Carmi, translated by William Weaver, copyright 1989 by Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc., reprinted by permission.