Kindness of Strangers

A few restless nights ago (there are a lot of those these days) I had a dream about the trip. My mom, who died six years ago, and I were in some conglomeration of a city that resembled Lisbon, London, and Seattle, all swirled together. We chased a guy who looked like John Lennon – Mom swore it was the man himself – into a large bus terminal. My mom went one way, and I went the other. Soon, I found myself on a bus; heading where, I had no idea. I felt lost, confused, and disoriented, and wanted to get off at the first stop. When the driver finally dropped me off, miles from the bus terminal, I sat alone on a bench, wondering when the next bus would come. Before I knew it, the original bus had returned. I peered in the windows, noticing that the strangers on this bus were smiling at me and motioning to me with their arms to get on the bus. “You came back! What happened?” I asked. “We couldn’t just leave you here,” they said. And the bus rode, lickety split, over the ribbon of pavement, straight back to the bus terminal, where my mom was waiting for me.

I was never alone after all.

I’m a big believer in the hidden meaning of dreams. In fact, I keep a dream “dictionary” by my bedside to help me decode the shards of my subconscious. When I awoke I excitedly turned to “B.” Busses are a huge symbol in dreams; like most modes of transportation, they reveal how we move through life. They represent “trying to get somewhere but depending on others,” “waiting for events to take you somewhere,” and “being involved with strangers…in a direction you are taking.” I paused: had the author read my website’s tagline?

Travel – particularly international travel — is often an exercise in relying on the kindness of strangers, which is at once thrilling and terrifying. (In fact, I learned just yesterday that there is a book called The Kindness of Strangers, which includes tales from travelers who have relied on the kindness of strangers in a variety of situations.)  I tend to be a control freak who strives to mastermind my experiences, which often precludes wonderfully unexpected things from happening. I don’t want to be this way. I find it no coincidence that the purpose of our trip is to connect with real people in real places, which often requires a great deal of trust and “letting go” in the process.  For me, this trip is as much about becoming a better person as it is about seeing cool places; it is a literal and metaphorical journey, one that I want to complete in the company of others.