Traveling with Small Kindnesses

My sister recently told me to check out a show on Netflix called the “Kindness Diaries.” It features a guy who is traveling across the world relying entirely on the kindness of strangers. He asks people for food, a place to sleep, and even gasoline for his motorcycle. He’s frequently turned down, but there’s always someone who comes along and offers their help. It might seem as though these scenes are forced, unreal, or that the giver expects something in return, but that’s not the case. These people are everywhere, and I see them every day. In a way, I sort of feel like this guy. I’m not completely broke, but I am constantly given the gift of kindness – and it’s beautiful.

This morning I woke up and went to the fruit market next to my hostel in Seven Sisters, London. I grabbed some juice, a sparkling water and an orange for breakfast and gave the woman my card to pay. She told me there was a 7£ minimum. I fumbled around looking for a little change that I hadn’t already donated to a bartender, but ultimately told her that I would have to find more things to buy. (I really wanted that sparkling water.) She handed me my items, looked at me and said, “No, I pay for you. It’s okay.” I looked at her incredulously and tried to hand her my card again, thinking that I must have misheard her. She continued digging through her coin-purse, pulled out a few pounds and waved me away. The guy behind me laughed and said, “Talk about customer service.”

I spent this weekend in Oslo staying with Eivor, a family friend. I say “family friend” loosely, because I met this woman when I was 2 years old – she lived with her family across the hallway from us in the Twin Cities. When I went to Denmark in November she took a flight from Norway to come meet me, so I wanted to make visiting her a priority this time around. Because of the unpredictability of my travel plans, I wasn’t able to give her much of a heads up… four days, to be exact. When I arrived she welcomed me into her home with open arms and a heap of avocados. I couldn’t have asked for a warmer reception.

In the following days I was shocked by how “homey” Norway felt. The people were polite and friendly. The weather was cold and shitty. It could have been Minnesota if it weren’t for the hills and the fact that everyone was constantly walking around in ski boots. Norwegians love skiing. Eivor’s sons made me dinner and took me to a death metal concert, and her extended family came over on Sunday afternoon for tea and homemade cinnamon rolls. For a moment I felt as though I had been in Norway my entire life.

Eivor told me a story about a homeless man that sits outside of her office. Every day he has a sign with a positive sentiment that he shares with passersby, and every day he is provided with ample food and beverage. One person brings him coffee, another brings him breakfast. This goes on throughout the day until the evening when he retires to his unknown abode. I think this sums up Norway perfectly – the citizens are healthy, happy, and share what they can with those in need.

It’s not the large acts of kindness that stand out, but rather the small ones that flow in a steady, heartwarming stream. A film editor I met on the plane bought me a glass of wine. The surly bus driver gave me a student discount. An aspiring actress from my hostel offered to share her dinner roll. The more I travel the more that I believe in the power of empathy and the inherent good of humanity. I can’t wait to brighten someone’s day.

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