Do(n't) Talk to Strangers

It’s been drilled into us since childhood: “Don’t talk to strangers.” But now that we’re grown, is the fear of stranger danger keeping potentially-valuable relationships at bay and preventing us from making some meaningful connections? Don’t get me wrong, there’s undoubtably evil in this world and bad consequences do exists; but is the boogie man, or as the Spanish call him, El Cuco, really lurking behind every stranger’s eyes?

I once struck up a conversation in an airport with an attractive stranger. Ill-advised? As it turned out, that innocent dialogue led to a dating relationship and, as the degrees of separation often go, led me to reconnect with a girlfriend of mine who I knew in the third grade in Puerto Rico! That connection then led me to another classmate who now lives in Barcelona. On a recent trip, I met up with her and her husband and ended up touring the city with them for hours. What a memorable moment.

Then there’s the woman I met over the shampoo bowl at the salon. It just so happened that 60 years ago she went to school with a certain “Nido” boy. She shared the sotyr of how enamored she was with him and stories of the two of them together. To my disbelief, that young boy was my father and she was his childhood sweetheart! What a random moment.

Those are just some of the special people I’ve added to my life because I gathered my courage, took the first step and said “hello” to a stranger. There’s no telling what can happen when you welcome the unknown into your life. It could open the door to a valuable business connection or new, innovative ideas in the workplace. It could mean an exciting personal relationship or new horizons you’ve yet to explore.

I guess it’s not all that surprising that there are many strangers-turned-friends in my life. According to my mom I never met a stranger. “Every time you went to a party, your sister would come crying because you had already made friends with everyone.” But what about those whose personalities don’t naturally gravitate towards the unknown? Talking to strangers can be daunting, but it’s also a skill that can be learned with practice.

I like to make it an exercise. Start with a person of the same gender or someone with a common connection. Initiate the conversation, find out all you can about the other person and keep the talk flowing. Then, move on to more intimidating situations: that attractive man at the bar, the head of the company you really want to impress or that striking woman next to you in carpool. Like the first person on the dance floor, sometimes others are just waiting for someone to make the first move. Just take two deep breathes to lower your racing heart, and as you breathe in the second time around, smile from your heart and start with a simple “hello.” You never know what could happen next.

Learning To Take The Road Less Traveled

Have you ever stayed at a 5-star resort when all you really wanted was a 5-star experience? I discovered the distinction between the two on a trip to Maui. I began my vacation at the Ritz Carlton where I enjoyed every luxury you’d expect -- from Egyptian cotton linens to gourmet meals. But what I remember most about that trip isn’t the thick monogrammed robes or the poolside cabana drinks but sleeping on a futon in a local home and eating at an old picnic table at the edge of nowhere in a place called Hana.

I first heard about the Hana Highway from a man named Hank that sat next to me on a flight from Puerto Rico to Orlando. As those things often go, our conversation quickly turned from “what do you do?” to “tell me about yourself?”. That’s how I learned about his home in Maui and the secret treasures most of the guide books leave out. The one he said not to miss was the Hana Highway.

The Hana Highway is a remote stretch of road that connects Kahului to Hana, and unofficially continues up the mountains to the dessert side of Maui. It is a winding, narrow pass through tropical rain forests, alongside crystal-blue ocean waters and across nearly 60 one-lane bridges. I was so enchanted by what that man on the airplane had told me, I e-mailed him and began making my arrangements to go. Not only did he provide me with driving directions and practical advice for the journey, he also connected me with his brother, Mike, who lived in Hana.

That’s how I found myself leaving the Ritz early one morning in my rented Jeep with a blanket, a pillow, a towel and some snorkel gear. Now before you chalk this up to an ordinary scenic drive, I must point out that the Hana Highway is very remote -- sort of the tropical version of the Devil’s Highway. When you see a sign saying “last chance for gas,” they mean it. You better stop because you won’t have another opportunity.

When I got into Hana, I called Mike to let him know I had arrived. He and his family welcomed me into their home for a meal which turned into a late evening. Since it was getting dark and the road back to my hotel was a series of hair-pin, blind turns they invited me to stay the night. At that moment I had a choice, I could turn them down or make it an experience. That night I slept on a futon in their living room and awoke in the morning to a beautiful, sunny day.

Now this is where the few vacationers who venture upon the Hana Highway do a U-turn and head back the way they came. But at Mike’s urging, I decided to continue the loop to the other side of the island. It turns out the road less traveled does make all the difference. On my journey I met a girl who had left California to work on a farm in Hana and live in a treehouse. I had lunch at a retired couple’s home where they fed people on picnic tables in their yard and played music that was set to whatever dish they were serving that day. There were roadside stands where I sampled fruits I’d never tasted and black sand beaches where I laid back and watched the waves lap at the shore.

What if I’d never ventured from the comfort of the Ritz or chosen not to stay the night with Mike and his family? What if I’d taken the predictable route back home or missed the chance to have that airplane conversation? If I hadn’t taken some risks and stepped out of my comfort zone I would have missed jumping from the rocks into one of the seven sacred pools. I would have never taken a sunrise swim with the sea turtles, snorkeled in the Hana Bay, found the remote caves Mike told me about or hiked to the hidden waterfall. Sometimes joy is found in an 800-thread count sheet set but more often it’s found in the unexpected treasures you find when you venture off the crowded path and take your own detour.

A Lesson in Boldness: The distance from my barstool to possibility

Years ago I was in a bar with a friend when I noticed a particularly handsome man across the room. (“OMG!,” I said. “This guy is hot.”) After doing a double-take, I saw that he was watching me too. Throughout the evening we took turns glancing at each other, locking eyes for a moment before looking away. At one point I went to the bathroom and returned to find him still looking at me.

Now this is where most women would keep making subtle glances and wait for him to come over. But when it became apparent that for whatever reason -- nerves, fear of rejection, bad passed experiences -- he was not going to cover the distance between us, I had a choice. I could stay on that barstool and pretend nothing was happening, or I could stand up, gather my courage and take a chance based on nothing more than a gut feeling. (At that moment, I finally understood how hard it can be to be a man.)

“Hi,” I said as I approached him. “I noticed you’ve been staring at me for quite a while so I figured I’d come over and introduce myself.” That was the beginning of a four-year relationship. A relationship that began with one bold moment.

The words I used were honest and to the point, something I think he really appreciated. You see, more times than not, we’re not truthful with our words. We use sarcasm, we ramble out of nervous energy or we say something that is not even a true reflection of who we are. I think that’s because being truthful requires being vulnerable and that’s hard. You risk rejection or embarrassment when you put yourself out there. But, you also give yourself the chance to experience something great.

Women are notorious for not saying what we feel but letting others draw conclusions. We do it with friends when we let them make assumptions about our intentions because we are unable to voice them. We do it in job situations when we hesitate to ask for the sale or speak up for that promotion. And more than anything, we do it with men when we chose to be subtle over choosing to be real.

So here’s what I’ve learned from my experience. First, life’s too short not to take a chance. Allow yourself to create moments of happiness whenever you can. When you do, be prepared to risk being yourself -- it’s what opens the door for the other person to truly appreciate you for who you really are. And finally, be honest with your words. It’s the only way to have anything that’s true.