an ancient foreign custom

the small art of asking a stranger

This week, I was walking around Boston with my friend Grace (hi, Grace!) and we decided to try to find our way to a nearby cafe without using our phones to navigate. We knew the cafe was in that general direction, and just walked and talked along the way, periodically pausing to decide whether to take a side street, or keep on the main road.

(Correction: we stopped for warm pastéis de nata at a Portuguese bakery first, ate them immediately while standing on the sidewalk—died from the sheer deliciousness—and then we started walking).

Eventually, we got the sense we’d gone the wrong way, and it was time to check a map. We both have iPhones. We could’ve reached into our pockets and checked a GPS in two seconds. I actually heard my phone whisper to me, I can help you, come closer, just take me out of your pocket…

But we did something else. We looked up. Surveyed the street for people who looked like they’ve been around here before (whatever that looks like). We hitched up our Boston britches, and prepared to practice the ancient foreign custom of ~*~asking a stranger for directions~*~.

Look at these kids in their bougie lil Barbie Jeep. See! No GPS needed! They know how to ask friendly strangers for directions.

To her credit, Grace went for it. As a couple of women were about to pass us by, she said, “Excuse me, do you know which way Life Alive is? We’re trying not to use our phones to navigate if we can help it.”

Their faces lit up. “Oh yeah! It’s that way, maybe three blocks. If you hit the Target, you’ve gone too far.”

We smiled and said “Thanks so much! Have a good one.”

WILD, right? Except it wasn’t weird at all. In fact, it was weirdly nice. Really nice. It felt like we were friends with them for ten seconds. Like when you’re in a bathroom stall and you realize too late that there’s no toilet paper, so you ask the person next to you if they can pass some under the partition. A little awkward, sure, but not as awkward as walking around with skid marks in your underwear.

ok we talked to a couple of strangers, so what

Well, we felt a little boost of trust for the people around us. A little less stranger danger. A little more connected to the people of our city. A little less reliant on technology to be a basic functioning human.

It felt good to flex that old muscle.

🙃 Kristie

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Artistic Credits:

Anonymous: Central Park Goat Carriage (Souvenir Postcard), ca. 1894, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.