The Kindness of Strangers

© Alisa Clickenger / RumBum.com

For some travelers, it's the destination that makes the trip. For others, it's the method of travel itself – motorcycle, plane, train, automobile. Yet for others it is the sights seen, foods tasted, sounds heard, or animals seen. For me, the most special ingredient of the trip is always the people I meet along the way.

As a woman traveling alone, I get invited into a lot of homes and places that I suspect other travelers do not get invited. Somehow, a lone woman is less threatening than a group of people, or two men, or even a married couple. On my South American trip I've been lucky enough to stay with families, be invited into museums after hours, allowed to enter a cage and pet a tiger.

In Mexico I was dining alone along the coast and instead of sitting at my table, I went into the kitchen and talked to the owner as she cooked my meal. Afterwards, as I was the only person in the cafe, she came and joined me at the table while I ate. At the end of my meal she would not let me pay, and in fact brought me into her gift shop and demanded I take something back to the US with me to remember her.

In Peru I was staying at a hotel and feeling poorly. The kindly shopkeeper next to the hotel insisted on closing his shop, driving me to his doctor friend for medication, and then checked me out of the hotel and brought me home to his wife for a good dose of TLC. The couple was so nice, and so very interesting, I ended up staying with them for a week and toiling with them on their farm.

In Ecuador, I was having extensive work done on my bike, and at lunchtime the mechanic invited me home with him for lunch. His mother was so gracious we hit it off well, and I ended up visiting with her all afternoon and through dinner. Next I was invited out to the family coffee farm in the mountains, and encouraged to stay for several days with the family elders.

I was constantly amazed at the introductions people made for me. I suppose I was quite the anomaly being a woman traveling alone on a motorbike through Central and South America, and people wanted to share their friends, relatives, and acquaintances with me. Very often I was told of a friend of theirs that could help me, feed me, or instruct me in whatever it was I expressed that I needed.

At a motorcycle shop in Cali, Colombia, I inquired about the quality of a dirt road in the southern part of the county. The shop owner called her good friend that ran a wine business in that area, and next thing I knew I was given his mobile number and a place to meet him. He sent his daughter Catalina to fetch me, and we became fast friends. Instead of just passing through I ended up staying a week, each day having a personal tour-guide and interpreter for cultural nuances I never would have captured on my own.

I have made many good friends along my journey so far, and have constantly been amazed by the generosity of strangers. I've had a glimpse into the daily lives, the cultures, and the families along my trip, treasures far more valuable than anything that I could have purchased along the way.

I've learned about saving lives through a blood bank in Oaxaca, Mexico, decreasing trash and improving local economy through recycling in Honduras, and how hard it is to raise three children in one room behind a roadside food stand. I can only hope that I gave all these wonderful people that reached out to me an equally rewarding experience learning a little bit about my own culture, a perhaps a little bit about their own through the eyes of a stranger.