The ups and downs of human kindness

by Caroline Franzen (France)

Making a local connection Greece

We had spent amazing days in Patras, filling our hearts and bellies with love and delicious food, laying in the sun talking to Spiros, a man who will forever hold my heart. He had opened his home and heart to me. This old man, all alone, wasn’t the least bit lonely. His home was a constant gathering of travelers from all around the world, recharging the batteries of their minds and motivation before continuing on their journey. His home was everyone’s home, a place where as you stepped in, you felt this instant relief in your heart, a home away from home for all these young lost souls trying to find and understand the meaning of their life. We did leave, we found the strength to say goodbye, and started our way towards Thessaloniki. We stood near the highway rising our thumbs up with heavy hearts and did not say a word. We both knew this feeling inside us, a feeling travelers know way too well, when you let your heart settle in a place and you feel nostalgic before even leaving it. After what seemed like forever a first car stopped and took us a part of the way. The man told us after only a few minutes that he just came out of prison. His car had a giant hole on the roof, the whole front and the seats had been ripped appart, damage he had done once when he got angry. I’m not going to lie, we were super scared but he turned out to be one of the nicest rides we had on our trip. He dropped us off somewhere on the way and it took an hour before a truck drove past and randomly pulled over signing to us to rush in. The driver didn’t speak a word of English so the ride was pretty quiet. That is, until he whispered something to me that I didn’t understand. I saw Monique’s face turn red and filling with rage. I was so confused and asked him to repeat, which he did, at which point Monique started to blurt out NO in her very angry deep voice. That’s only when it occurred to me, as the man repeated it two or three more times and I heard very clearly his voice loudly saying “sex?” while his eyes wondered from my lap to Monique’s cleavage. This man, who must have been something between 40 and 50 years old, insisted one more time but it was pretty clear he would not be getting anything out of us so he randomly stopped on the side of the highway and asked us to get out of his truck. We were standing there on the side of the highway, helpless and confused by why had just happened. Anger had filled our previously hopeful hearts as we were reminded of the downs of reality. It took another two hours to finally get another ride to a small town. The moon was already shining onto us and we realized there was no where for us to stay in this tiny town, and the rain started pouring over us. We had our thumbs up when the waiter of a nearby cafe came to tell us the owner wanted to buy us a coffee. After an hour of nice conversation with this man who truly wanted to help, a delicious Greek coffee and a burst of motivation to continue our route, we found another ride with a young guy who hosted us and opened his heart to us, to end well what ended up being an incredible day.