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I had been traveling for a few weeks with a friend and decided I needed my own adventure for a few days. I had friends in London that invited me out to Hamburg to their next show. As I was landing for this spontaneous adventure anxiety began to set in. Gathering my pack and looking around to get my bearings, I decided to just start asking for help. I figured surely they get paid to be helpful in places like the airport. I ask for the best route to get to my hostel and in return, I get a piece of paper with some scribbles on it “S^ —> Barmbek U8 —> Feldstrasse.” I guess it is better than nothing. I find a map and try to figure out what any of it means. I get this terrible anxiety and my head starts to spin- things become a blur. I end up leaving the airport, assuming I am going in the right direction via the correct mode of transportation. At some point, I recognize a word from the map and I get off at that stop. I am sure I would be able to get out into the streets and figure out where I am at using landmarks and street names. That is generally how I get to know somewhere new. I just leave the airport and get off on a random stop. I soon realize there is construction going on and everything seems to be in disarray. I can’t find a single street sign and anyone I ask in the vicinity can’t, or won’t, speak any English. I take a moment to sit on a small wall in a park area to have a bit of a meltdown and then to gather myself. I start asking the new herd of people going by and still no one that speaks any English. Finally, this older gentleman motions for me to come over to him. I do because he is the first person that seems to want to help. I ask if he speaks any English at all and he just shakes his head. He speaks German and Polish. I started to walk away, but he insisted he would help me. We tried communicating through hand gestures and pointing at the map. He has agreed to walk me to my hostel. I am so relieved. At this moment, he reaches behind the wall and pulls out his crutches and I feel quite terrible that he is walking me to my hostel on crutches. We stopped several times to rest because he is very tired. At one point, we are on a train platform and I am unsure what he is trying to signal for me to do. We end up getting on the train and he shoves me out of view from some police. I realize we just train hopped! I am really uneasy. I don’t like the idea of stealing in any form and I would have gladly paid for both of our tickets, but what could I do about it now? We disembark the train and continue walking. I offer to stop and buy him a drink and some cigarettes as he was nearly out. We rested for a moment and then continued on our journey. It felt like we walked for hours, but eventually, we arrive at my hostel in St. Pauli. As I'm checking in, the lady working at the desk informed me that my friend was homeless and he couldn’t just sit outside the hostel. I knew I had to do something. This old, crippled, homeless man that didn’t speak my language never asked me for anything in exchange for helping him. He had nothing but time and attention for me. So I paid for him to have a bunk for the night so he could shower and have breakfast the next day. I bought him a whole pizza and some beer for dinner. We didn’t have much to say conversation wise, but we ate, drank, and laughed through the night. This is the kindness I look back on when I have rough days and that I wish to repay any chance I get.