The Kindness of Strangers

If I told you that I met up with a couple --two people I hadn't previously known-- and we got along so well that I invited them over for dinner, what would you say? "Well that sounds nice." Ok, let's say they were traveling and I not only invited them over for dinner, but I asked them to stay at my house? Same reaction? I'm going to guess that I probably would have lost some people there--"stayed at your house, are you crazy?!" Other folks would probably say, "Wow, that's cool."

So what really happened was this. I met this couple online. I didn't even meet them in person first, but I invited them to stay at my house while they were in town. Ok, give me the lecture--let me have it. Tell me about the hundreds of things that could have gone wrong and how I have to be careful. Tell me that it worked out this time, but next time it might not. It doesn't help. I know all of these things. The truth of the matter is I joined an online group called The CouchSurfing Project. I heard about it on NPR one day and found myself signing up within the hour. It is an international "organization" with over 200 countries represented. You don't have to pay to join, and you don't even have to agree to offer your couch. Over 360,000 "matches" (i.e. someone found a place to sleep for the night--not matches as in romantic matches--that's not allowed) have been made and so far they have only 1 reported criminal activity. So already after less than a week as a member, we've hosted a couple from Australia, will host a couple from Germany this week, and will have a gentleman from Belgium next week. Hopefully all of these people will be as charming and fun as the first couple. I am trusting my instincts that people involved with this project are basically good. If I'm right, I get to have positive experiences with people from all over the world and make connections that may lead to a free place to sleep in Berlin or Sydney some day. If I'm wrong, I lose faith in human kind and resort to a life of distrust and paranoia--its a big risk. So why do I want to take the chance? Wouldn't it be better if I just imagined that people were good, but never tested the hypothesis? Wouldn't it be better to play it safe?

I wear a helmet when I ride my bike to work and when I am rock climbing in areas that may have loose rock. I wear my seatbelt (usually) in the car. I am actually pretty cautious most of the time. But what's the point when it comes to other people? I don't subscribe to any religion (ok, maybe Raelianism when I feel like it), and I don't believe in heaven. The way to immortality in my opinion is not a genetic mutation like I've written about before, but making connections with people. To throw out this spider web of friendship and to see how many people you can catch--its like the old 7 steps to Kevin Bacon game. Think of how many people you've met in your life. Most of the meetings we have are unremarkable. Every once in a while, I'm sure some stranger does something nice for you. Maybe you remember the face, but never knew the name. I've put my trust in strangers so many times. Sometimes I look back and say, "wow, that was stupid, " and sometimes I say, " wow, that was amazing." The point is not necessarily to remember everyone and become instant friends, the point is that the more people are nice to me--the more likely I am to be nice to others. I know it sounds corny, but these may all just be baby steps to making a more pleasant living environment. Think about a world where people always let you in when you were stuck trying to get onto a busy road? Where people stopped to help you when you had a flat? When someone bent down to pick up something you've dropped, and didn't take off and run with it?

One of my favorite stories was when I was traveling alone in Italy. I was 18 and this was a graduation present from my parents. I was supposed to go with a girlfriend, but she backed out 2 weeks before we were set to leave. My first destination was a small town in the Italian Alps. I flew to Milan and was soon informed that my luggage didn't make it across the Atlantic Ocean. The town to which I was traveling was a full day's travel by train and bus from Milan. I gave the agent the phone number for the Inn at which I was staying and made my way to the train station. I couldn't believe the lines! Holy Cow. I didn't speak Italian and tried to make a rough translation using my knowledge of Spanish and my limited knowledge of French. There was a train strike that had just begun--that's why it was so crowded. Only about 30% of the usual trains were running. I wandered around various platforms for a while pointing at the name of my destination town. Finally, a nice woman pointed to a very crowded platform. "hurry" she said. I got my ticket and stood with the rest of the masses. I heard a strange sound coming from behind me at some point--was it?-- yes it was. It was English. I had only been in Italy for 1 day and already the sound of English made me feel more relaxed. I took the train until somebody told me I should get off (after much pointing at my piece of paper). I was then directed toward a bus station. There was some concern and lots of strange looks and broken English from the person behind the counter at the bus station. She handed me two tickets. "Only 1 bus to inn" she said. ?? I got on the first bus and handed the two tickets. The bus driver took one and shoved the other back at me. Ok. After a few hours, he looked at me in the rear view mirror and said something in Italian pointing at the door. I dutifully disembarked. He got off the bus and I thought perhaps he was chasing me off--no, he only wanted to point, make unrecognizable gestures, and finally walk me over to another bus. I must have been a great joke because there was much laughter between he and the new bus driver. He he, I smiled and feigned laughter. By this time it was about 8 p.m. Italy time and I had been traveling a long time. Against all sense of safety, I fell asleep. I awoke to the bus driver shaking me. It was pitch black outside. "your stop, your stop." I guess so-- as it was the last one on the route. I thanked the driver and got off the bus in a small plaza. I had no idea where I was or where I was going. I saw a light on and gravitated toward it. It was a bar. There were two young men at the bar and one older man. I walked in and said, "English?" They shouted a name and a woman came out from the kitchen. She was younger and friendly looking. I told her my situation and showed her the paper. She said something to the two younger men who began to walk in my direction. "They will take you, " she said. At that point I was so tired and lost I didn't care what happened to me. I thought briefly about how I shouldn't trust strangers, nevermind young strange me--but I couldn't help it. I had no other way. The end of the story was uneventful. The two nice young men took me to the Inn, carried my bag in for me, and returned the next day to make sure I was ok. No funny business, no misconduct. I never got their names, but I will probably always remember that story. Its one of many instances of strangers showing me their good sides. One day, maybe this memory will serve to enable me to do something really foolish that I will regret, but for now, it helps me to feel good about offering a couch and perhaps a meal to some weary travlers.