Patience

It’s probably the longest I’ve ever waited for a ride. I was dropped off here, at the edge of a small town in the middle of the Australian Outback, at six in the morning, and now the sun is setting.

For hours, I’ve just been sitting here—reading a book, dancing, writing, and standing up every time a car passed by, trying to convince the driver I wasn’t going to murder them. I just needed a ride, even to the next town, which, according to my map, wasn’t that close. Maybe that was the problem. I really don’t know.

Then, a car finally stopped. The lady informed me that she wasn’t going to give me a ride, but she had seen me in the morning on her way to work and was surprised to still see me here on her way back home. She told me she’d paid for a room and dinner at the motel across the road. I tried to tell her I was fine, that I had a tent and didn’t need it, but she insisted.

After months of hitchhiking, I learned that people on the road are overwhelmingly kind and supportive. I’ve developed a theory: people actually enjoy helping others, and I’m here to receive that help. Declining it would be like rejecting someone’s kindness. There will come a time when I’ll be giving, but for now, I’m on the receiving end. So, I accepted her offer, thanked her kindly, and called it a day. I picked up my backpack and walked to the motel.

I took a much-needed shower and had a delicious dinner (it had probably been a week since I’d eaten a proper meal). I slept like a baby, and when I got back on the road with the rising sun, I only waited ten minutes for a ride. Hitchhiking teaches you many things—patience, the kindness of strangers, and that sometimes, it’s good to have a shower.

Australia, 2015