Random Acts

We did it again. We left the goddamn headlights on. Merrily we parrused the Rugby Museum in Palmerston North and then tawdled down the street to sip afternoon tea at a cafe while The Ark was dwindling in power. I think we were feeling overly giddy after having picked up some American hitch hikers and made a good connection. Maybe even over confident since twice earlier in the day we had neurotically double checked that the head lights were in fact not on - and twice we were right: they were not on. 

So after our enlightening museum visit and relaxing tea time there we were, once again, in a deserted museum parking lot with a dead battery.  

We popped the hood (textbook move 101for silently looking helpless) and I went off to find the nearest gas station while Bill stood by the popped hood using his best charades moves to get passers by to guess "Jumper Cables!"

At the gas station I met the clerk, an Indian immigrant to New Zealand who had lived in Auckland for a few years but who had only been in Palmerston for 2 days. He sold me cables (that's right, it took us 3 dead batteries before we finally splurged on our own cables) and then asked if he could give me a ride back to our car to jump it. Um YES PLEASE! 

When we arrived, Bill was chatting with a young couple in their car. They had noticed the helplessness red flags and stopped. They didn't have cables but her dad, who lived near by, and was happy to drop whatever he was doing to help, did. 

Just as the Indian had successfully jumped The Ark, the dad pulled up. 

Despite not being needed at all, he not only offered to give us his own jumper cables but then happily remarked that it was no trouble at all and he'd do it again. "God has a way," he said.  Indeed. 

The Indian was about to leave and I told him thank you thank you and best wishes in this new city and that I'm sure it would all work out. He blinked a few times and sincerely remarked "thank you, I really needed to hear that."  Sobering. 

Driving away from the scene where 4 perfect strangers had combined powers to ensure we helpless tourists safely made our way, I reflected on all the tiny ways that the "travelers mindset" creates an openness for random acts of kindness and connection. 

When we meet people on the trail or spend one night in a campsite or a few hours at a shared attraction or even just twenty minutes chatting there is a remarkable level of tacit trust built in that allows for seamless phone number exchanges and possible friendships. Being a traveler - with no real place to be and with the established agenda of trying and doing new things - makes the instigation of human connection so much easier and frequent. 

It's a brainless act to stop and pick up hitch hikers with backpacks on. These (too numerous to count) people who help us with directions or give us the books that they are no longer using are practicing random acts of kindness that snowball. Traveling can also be a selfish agenda. We are takers and pleasure seekers for the pure and simple reason that we believe we deserve a good time. So these random acts make the travel feel less selfish. It's an easy mindset to fall into and one that is so easily translated into "real life". 

I worry about the selfishness of travel at times but then and again I am aware of the lessons that travel can teach you and I'm grateful for the reminder that small acts can be so meaningful for the faith in humanity. I just hope we stop leaving the goddamn headlights on. At least now we have our own jumper cables. And we're really good at charades.