Hitchhiking, A Lost Transport
I think it is safe to assume that my generation, at least in America, does not categorize hitchhiking as any sort of legitimate mode of transportation. It's one of those things our crazy parents may have done in the 60s and is remembered as an idealized notion, something in history books about hippies and lost souls, summed up in Jenny's line from Forrest Gump, "I gotta get out of here." Perhaps it was too many scary stories of abductions, rapes and killings throughout the years or the current trending concern for human trafficking, but hitchhiking is usually marked as a serious no no. To do it is to risk your own safety and will most likely lead to your demise. Stay in your own car, hail a taxi or call a friend -- but whatever you do, never trust a stranger to take you to a destination. Although these concerns are valid and created for safety purposes, I couldn't help but be starkly aware of this common fear as I braved my own virgin hitchhiking adventure. Granted, hitchhiking is far more common for travelers in NZ and I headed out on the highway with four other guys (all of us newbies) split into teams as a race to the hot pools (of course it was my idea to race, I'm a competitive American! And yes, my team won.). But whether alone or with guys by my side, it was meeting strangers and hearing their stories I most enjoyed about the hitchhiking experience. If I had not tackled this engrained fear of transport, I wouldn't have met a Maori couple driving to the hospital to visit their newly born niece who is in intensive care with a heart condition. Or I wouldn't have been able to make a video singing happy birthday for a young man's sister that day, a guy who turned around in the other direction just to pick us up. These moments tell me we have lost something far more than transport when it comes to the philosophy, "if I don't know you, you are a threat." We have created a caution that ultimately ensures a greater number of unknown persons around us, creating more fear and suspicion, which leaves more room for evil to reign. It commonly permeates our actions, our reception of others, our personal lives and we lose our exposure to untold stories, moments of generosity and our humanity, all the while worried we are one quick "hello" away from a life changing tragedy. And it's probably true. We are all one life moment away from tragedy in some way or other, but oddly enough, by remaining enclosed we seem to give more power to the actual dangers around us and lose the opportunity of strength we can gain from reaching out to that mysterious stranger. Will I sell my car and hitchhike forevermore? Probably not. I'm not interested in martyrdom. But I will remain a staunch believer that fear does more harm than good for human encounters and I refuse to let it govern my life experiences. Say hello to a stranger today, yes that scary stranger! They might just be a human being that will usher hope in humanity once again and even add an adventure along the way.
