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.

I just mailed off the applications for our Indian visas.  Here’s how it breaks down:

Consular Fee:  $120
Outsourcing Fee:  $26
Shipping Fee:  $20
Sending package by registered mail:  $14
Seeing the Taj Mahal at dawn:  Priceless

Visas, we’ve learned, are a tricky thing.  More than half of the countries we’re visiting don’t require a visa, and most of the visas we do need can be obtained upon arrival at the airport, averaging between $15 and $25 per visa per person.  Our most expensive visa, for Chile, costs a whopping $131 per person!  The cost and complexity of visas often has a great deal to do with current foreign policy.  If the US increases visa prices for, say, Brazilian visitors, so, too, do American tourists to Brazil get squeezed.  It’s a checks and balances thing. 

Being clear on visa requirements and costs is a really important part of the planning process that’s easy to overlook.  Without doing your research, you could waste days waiting around a capital city for a visa, or worse, be denied entry after you’ve flown halfway across the world.  India was the one visa we were required to obtain in advance.  It’s good for six months from the date of issue (not the date of entry, which is an important distinction).  In order to obtain said visa, we had to send off a bundle of documents, two passport-sized photos, a credit card number, and our passports to — I kid you not — an outsourcing agency in San Francisco.  (It’s true!  We outsource to India, and India outsources to the US!) 

I was a little nervous to send along my passport, the only thing I really need for this trip that I will be embarking on in less than six weeks.  Apparently this is fairly common practice, but I still felt a little strange letting such an important document out of my possession.  It’s not unlike the ticketing agent at the airport asking if you have let your baggage out of your sight since packing:  relinquishing my passport felt illicit.  But with any luck, we should have our Indian visas in about two weeks.