For the second year in a row, I’m spending my fourth-Thursday-of-November abroad, without family. (Actually, as I write this, it’s already Friday here in New Zealand, but most of my friends and relatives are still preparing their annual meals or sitting down to eat, so let’s call today “Thanksgiving.”) And it’s quite an interesting one.
Right now, I’m far from being in my ideal situation. I’m miles away from where I’d dared to expect to be right now. I put the word “dare” before “expect” because my first week here in New Zealand was very unpredictable and not at all what I could’ve possibly expected, Finally on Tuesday, for the first time on this trip, I’d booked a full four nights in ONE hostel, which is double my record for consecutive-nights-spent-in-the-same-bed over the past two weeks. Silly me thought I could count on my own “plans.”
Bouncing between 10 beds in 11 nights (especially right after a 15-hour flight) is generally not my favorite way to travel, which is why I was thrilled to have four nights in one place up in Paihia. By my first night, I’d bought several days’ worth of groceries, made a few friends, and mentally declared this hostel one of my favorite ones in my travels thus far. I wouldn’t complain about my first week in NZ, because it was quite the adventure, but I was SO ready to finally get comfortable and relax.
On my first morning—also yesterday—I sat at one of the high-top tables on the roofed patio, enjoying the calming sound of the rain as I polished up my latest design in Canva. All of a sudden, a sheet of rain gushed from the roof above, straight onto the table in front of me—and onto the exposed keyboard of my brand new laptop. In a moment of shock, I watched, frozen, as BB—the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought, the only Apple product I’ve ever bought new, and the thing I’d paused my time in Nicaragua to come purchase stateside less than three months earlier—took an impromptu shower.
Instead of my envisioned day of relaxing, catching up on work, and visiting a waterfall, I spent the next 12 hours (my own fourth-Thursday-of-the-month) panic-tossing a bag of uncooked rice onto my laptop, traveling 25 minutes north to Keri Keri where the closest repair shop was, being told they couldn’t fix it and that I’d have to go back down to Auckland, riding back down to Paihia to grab all of my belongings and cancel my remaining 3 nights at my hostel, booking a night in a new hostel in Auckland that would be much more expensive and not nearly as nice, and then catching a southbound Intercity bus to the major city—where I’d gladly left only a day earlier. The bus was supposed to leave Paihia at 1:35pm and arrive in Auckland around 5:30pm, right around the time this other repair shop would close. As I waited for the bus in Paihia, I called Ron at iFix, who told me not to worry, that he would stay back for BB given how far I was traveling. Nevertheless, due to several circumstances that were honestly quite comedic given their absolutely awful timing in my own personal narrative, the bus didn’t arrive to pick us up until after 2, and we didn’t make it to the city until just before 8pm. 8PM!!! Of course, by the time I arrived, Ron had closed up and gone home for the night, promising to meet me at 10am the next morning (today). So now, I’m sitting in a restaurant a few doors down from iFix, waiting for updates on BB.
You can see why my situation is not ideal.
However, in honor of this season of gratitude, I managed to snap myself out of my angry, pessimistic state and instead channel all of the gratefulness and optimism I had in me, which you will see is the mood of this post.
A year ago today, I wrote a journal entry about how I’m grateful for two MVPs who stick with me through every moment of my day, across all of my travels—my body and my mind. Still traveling alone, these two remain the ultimate ones for me to appreciate and care for. But with another year having passed, I’d like to share what else I’m grateful for today:
Obviously, I’m grateful for all of the opportunities and privileges that have led me to where I am today. But let’s focus on one of my favorites, the kindness of strangers—and of course, those strangers themselves.
I’m dedicating this post and holiday (while it may not exist in much of the world) to some people who extended kindness to me over the past year, often before even knowing what my voice sounded like, or my name.
First, I’m grateful to the people who welcomed me—a stranger—into their homes, asking for nothing in return. Ariel and Dan in Lake Tahoe. Lanre in Sacramento. Emily in San Francisco. Erika in Yosemite Valley. Kimia and her roommates in San Francisco. Noelle in Denver. Jack and his mom, Delwyn, in Hamilton. And tonight, Zhenxia in Auckland. You are all angels, and it was a pleasure spending time with each one of you. The world is lucky to have people as kind and open-minded as you.
I’m also grateful to all of the people who offered me (and usually a friend)—a random girl (or two) on the side of the road—a free ride. We didn’t catch the names of everyone we hitchhiked with, often because we were just hopping in and out of truck beds. But I have recorded every one of them:
In Guatemala: the teenaged girl at the cell phone repair shop in Cobán, who had her boyfriend come pick us up and bring me to the bus station so that I could get back to Lanquin on time.
In Honduras: the couple in the golf cart in Utila, who stopped for me and Franzi to take us up the road to Mango Inn.
In Nicaragua: the group of university students who picked up me and Luca in Selva Negra on our way back to Matagalpa. Jose, who drove us from León to Poneloya beach in his SUV. On the way back, the pair of women (mother-daughter? Couple? We had differing hypotheses on this), who offered to clear their suitcases from the back seats for us, before we insisted that we would be quite happy to just hop into the truck bed. The two musicians who drove us back from Las Peñitas around 1am, when we were leaving a party and they’d just finished playing at a wedding in a hostel up the street. The four separate pickup truck drivers that we caught rides with on our journey from San Jacinto back into León after an excruciating 18-mile hike. The men who drove us to Las Peñitas for our final beach day together. And finally, the family who scooped us up in their pickup on the way back ‘home’ the same evening, as their 2-year-old boy peeked through the back window, watching us curious-eyed as we laughed and waved.
Later, after Luca had gone back to Scotland, when I was still between laptops in Nicaragua, I’m grateful to the guy on his scooter and the Dutch couple in their rental SUV who helped me (alone) get to the other side of Ometepe, to access the only computer lab on the island. There was also a truck that stopped for my friend and me on one of our walks to El Zopilote for an early-morning yoga class, and another guy who picked us up on our way back to our hostel another time. And when I was traveling from Ometepe to Granada, the man who picked me up on my way to Moyogalpa in time to catch the ferry, and the trio I met on that ferry who went out of their way to drop me off on their way to Managua.
In New Zealand (proud to say I remembered all of their names without writing them down!): Kylie, Karl*, Annemieke*, Doug, and Dean, who each helped Nicole and me—and our absurd amount of luggage—get to various points along the route from Napier to Rotorua after our rental broke down. And of course, we’ll never forget the homies who helped us get to Hamilton the following day: Pat, with his two dogs in the passenger seat of his black pickup, who rescued us from the pouring rain (we opted for the cabin instead of the truck bed this time), and our dear bachelor party—Richard, Jesse, Nick, Jack, Justin, Josh, Hayden, Reed, Cody, and Tim—who happened to have 2 empty seats in their van, had circled back around to pick us up after initially passing us on the highway, and ultimately brought us along for the remainder of their bar-hopping back to Hamilton.
*Just guessing on spellings.
And of course, I’m grateful to the man from earlier that day, who set the tone for good luck before we even tried waving down any cars. When we were in the Hell’s Gate cafe, I didn’t have the right card or cash to buy any food, and as we were leaving, this man behind the register asked me if I’d had any lunch. Having prepared a pack of Indomie noodles with the boiling water I’d requested from him earlier, I told him, “sort of…” and he immediately reached into the display case before presenting me with a sandwich and cookie, “on him.”
Ugh, my heart.
And last but not least, even though they weren’t strangers, shoutout to a few of my loved ones who opened their homes to me as well:
Gabi, Jerri, and Joe, thank you for letting me stay in your home for the majority of March—even when I had covid!!!—and for sharing your meals with me. I love you guys!
To my college friends, Siri, Rachel, Shruti, and Marisa, who let me crash with you when I visited you in New York and California.
To Lauren and Corlyn in Colorado.
To Suze in Paris, and Rowan and Henry in Berlin, all of whom I’d previously met while traveling—either on that same Europe trip, 6 years earlier during our high school study abroad in Australia, or sometime in between.
When reliable buses or affordable accommodation weren’t an option, everyone listed here was my saving grace—and these experiences made for some of the best memories and stories ever.
Sunday, November 27 edit:
I first drafted this post by hand in my journal two days ago, when frustration and uncertainty dominated my mind. Then, yesterday, I had the pleasure (and privilege) of typing it out on my newly-repaired BB, who is alive and well again! I am so grateful for her.
So, it’s only fitting that I wrap up this post with a shoutout to Ron at iFix, who showed me so much kindness. I did pay him over half a grand for the repair, so yeah, he had to be nice to me. But he didn’t have to stay back in the shop with me for 45 minutes after closing, helping me research whether BB would be eligible for purchase protection (she was! and I would’ve never even known to seek support from my bank if he hadn’t told me about it), and giving me recommendations for things to see and do in New Zealand.
He didn’t have to wander into the back office of the store to grab the silver and pink travel combination lock — and simply give it to me — as soon as I mentioned that I must’ve forgotten my own as I left Paihia in a rush.
He didn’t have to suggest that I join his wife and dog (both of whom had been waiting patiently during this entire hour-long interaction) and him for dinner at their home just up the street in the event that I find myself in Auckland again. (This one seems iffy, I know, but I really think he meant it with kindness.)
So, this year, I am (still) grateful for a million and one things, and kindness (especially from strangers) tops the list. I promise to keep passing it on, and I hope everyone who reads this will too :)
