The Power of a Strangers Smile

The moment I opened the door I was stripped of the person I was and became a stranger. There were two girls, both ducked down onto their bottom bunk beds while turning their heads to face mine. I introduced myself with my name as if it had no meaning. Not because it had none, but because they didn’t know who I’d been up until this moment. Three strangers, New Zealand, one hostel room. The girl to the right was the first to speak.

“Hi! So good to meet you. How are you? We’ve only been here for half an hour, well, I’ve been here for a couple days already, but not in this hostel. Anyway, just choose one of the beds, this bottom bunk is still free! Go ahead!”

I smiled as the girl, The Quirky One, babbled on about all and nothing as I tried to remember her name, which I had already forgotten before she even told it to me. The smell of sunscreen and popcorn filled the air as I turned to face the second girl, The Bestie.

I had excited butterflies in my stomach as the first hour went by, quick conversations and vivid first impressions were made. A group of girls came rushing in. The Half-Smile hanging around in the background, The Grounded One with a slightly raised eyebrow as The Fun Ones eyes were gleaming whilst chatting away to find out more about us, the new arrivals. The Fierce One, an energetic woman that flew through the door, dumped her backpack on one of the shelves in the hostel room. These were the first impressions, the ones that shaped my image of the people I met in that very moment. It determined the box I put them in in my mind, the ones I’d instantly feel close to or the ones I’d have to warm up to. Interesting, how we judge others based only on the first few seconds with someone.

Before long, it was time for our welcome night. This meant meeting the rest of the group and our tour guide. Our group became double the size as some boys joined our chattering gathering of hyper girls. There was a man with strong composure but a wicked smile dancing on his lips, The Stripper. An energetic boy that wouldn’t stop humming, The Wildcat. A guy who sat next to a joker, The Class Clown, with nothing, not even a hint of a smirk on his face, The Mysterious One. While I stood next to The Bestie, fidgeting in a nervous but buzzing excitement kind of way, the chaos of first meetings and familiar joking around came to a halt as a man entered the room, with a presence that felt safe, welcoming and kind. As he spoke to us, I didn’t register what he was saying until he laughed, and I realised he had spoken Māori, the language of New Zealand’s indigenous people.

The Leader looked at us with a bright smile on his face and it made me realise: the nervousness had disappeared.