One of the wonderful benefits of traveling is meeting people along the way. Sometimes these encounters are as brief as a hello, a smile or a wave; at other times, when time is not so pressed, you might end up in a great discussion with a fellow traveler or someone local, or maybe with a family or small group of friends. They may be heading in the same direction, going the opposite way, or just staying put. And you might even exchange contact info and possibly reach out later on— but far more often than not, that will be the last time you’ll see them and they will see you.
And that’s part of the beauty of the fluid nature of travel, just as in the fluid nature of life itself. There are countless chance encounters happening all over the world, every single day, and in those encounters are new insights, cultural exchanges and even just mundane exchanges about the weather and what’s going on in that part of the world right now. Other times, you may learn about an individual’s personal circumstances and if the discussion gets really good, what their hopes and dreams are too.
As I was looking through pictures recently, I came upon this picture that a friend took of me talking with a trio of friends who were also traveling together. It’s a lovely moment he captured, the four of us discussing something I can’t recall, but I clearly remember we were at a special place where we could see gorgeous uninterrupted views of the snow-capped Annapurna mountain range in Nepal. As you can see, the sun was setting and a small crowd was gathered to watch the moments when the sun would sink below the horizon, offering a spectacular show of changing colors reflecting off the mountains and the faces of those lucky enough to be there.
I really love this candid picture because it’s a rare one in my albums and albums (and albums!) of photos. It represents something I’ve inherited from my wonderful father, which is to initiate talks with “strangers.” When I was younger and far more introverted than I am now, I was embarrassed (ok, mortified actually) when my dad would strike up conversations with people, especially when we were traveling. I didn’t really get it then, with a much smaller comfort zone and far fewer reasons to feel a need to bother other folks. I mean, when you’re 8 or 12 or especially a teenager, you don’t see any value in striking up conversations with people you don’t know, and what would you talk about anyway?
But now I’ve come full circle, engaging in such discussions regularly and often eagerly, much to the chagrin of my own 10 year old son who thinks exactly like I used to. Though there will be times on your journeys that you won’t have the time, energy or reason to engage with others, and times when fellow travelers won’t reciprocate your hello, I think these encounters offer us not only opportunities to meet more people, but also to feel more connected to our place and ultimately reaffirm or help us better understand our common humanity. One thing is for sure, even if my son doesn’t continue the same initiations of discussions in his future travels, I’m sure he won’t call people he doesn’t know “strangers”— because as we’ve discussed, though we can’t trust everyone and must be careful, why should we automatically categorize the people we don’t know as strange?
I’d like to close with one other chance encounter that my wife and I still recall fondly. On our very first trip to Nepal, we took a day trip from Kathmandu to Bhaktapur, an enchanted and gorgeous medieval town that’s famous for its delicious juju dhau, or King Curd— scrumptious yogurt served in clay pots which turned upside down don’t spill (think Dairy Queen blizzards, but far tastier!) Anyway, after seeing many fantastic sights in the town’s central Durbar Square, we were hungry and wanted to grab some lunch.
Walking along brick streets through small meandering alleyways, we stumbled upon a place called Big Bell Guest House & Restaurant and decided to have lunch there (and no, my memory is not that good— I just happened to save their business card and kept it all these years later). At lunch, we met the most darling girl named Kalpana who was the daughter of the proprietor, and she entertained us for our entire meal. She just delighted us with her sweet questions, her curiosity, her adorable little laughs after every sentence. Luckily for us, she gave us her complete and undivided attention and we both fell in love with her! 🥰 And she reminded us that no matter what beautiful sights you can see somewhere, the people are what really make a place special.
Here’s a picture of Ako with Kalpana, whose name very fittingly means imagination, and we were so grateful that we met her that day. Years later, once we had actually lived in Nepal, we returned to Bhaktapur and the Big Bell in hopes of seeing Kalpana again, but unfortunately she was out of the guest house when we visited. We were bummed to miss her but who knows? Maybe we’ll return and reunite someday. She was 10 years old then, so we would likely not recognize the now 23 year old Kalpana, but one thing’s for sure—we’ll never forget her giggles and her super sweet smile.
