Unit 8A - The Kindness of Strangers
The Kindness of Strangers
Mike Mclntyre
One summer I was driving from my home town of Tahoe City, California, to New Orleans. In the middle of the desert, I came upon a young man standing by the roadside. He had his thumb out and held a gas can in his other hand. I drove right by him. There was a time in the country when you'd be considered a jerk if you passed by somebody in need. Now you are a fool for helping. With gangs, drug addicts, murderers, rapists, thieves lurking everywhere, "I don't want to get involved" has become a national motto.
Several states later I was still thinking about the hitchhiker. Leaving him stranded in the desert did not bother me so much. What bothered me was how easily I had reached the decision. I never even lifted my foot off the accelerator.
Does anyone stop any more? I wondered. I recalled Blanche DuBois's famous line: "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Could anybody rely on the kindness of strangers these days? One way to test this would be for a person to journey from coast to coast without any money, relying solely on the goodwill of his fellow Americans. What kind of Americans would he find? Who would feed him, shelter him, carry him down the road?
The idea intrigued me.
The week I turned 37, I realized that I had never taken a gamble in my life. So I decided to travel from the Pacific to the Atlantic without a penny. It would be a cashless journey through the land of the almighty dollar. I would only accept offers of rides, food and a place to rest my head. My final destination would be Cape Fear in North Carolina, a symbol of all the fears I'd have to conquer during the trip.
I rose early on September 6, 1994, and headed for the Golden Gate Bridge with a 50-pound pack on my back and a sign displaying my destination to passing vehicles: "America."
For six weeks I hitched 82 rides and covered 4,223 miles across 14 states. As I traveled, folks were always warning me about someplace else. In Montana they told me to watch out for the cowboys in Wyoming. In Nebraska they said people would not be as nice in Iowa. Yet I was treated with kindness everywhere I went. I was amazed by people's readiness to help a stranger, even when it seemed to run contrary to their own best interests.
One day in Nebraska a car pulled to the road shoulder. When I reached the window, I saw two little old ladies dressed in their Sunday finest. "I know you're not supposed to pick up hitchhikers, but it's so far between towns out here, you feel bad passing a person," said the driver, who introduced herself as Vi. I didn't know whether to kiss them or scold them for stopping. This woman was telling me she'd rather risk her life than feel bad about passing a stranger on the side of the road.
Once when I was hitchhiking unsuccessfully in the rain, a trucker pulled over, locking his brakes so hard he skidded on the grass shoulder. The driver told me he was once robbed at knifepoint by a hitchhiker. "But I hate to see a man stand out in the rain," he added. "People don't have no heart anymore."
I found, however, that people were generally compassionate. Hearing I had no money and would take none, people bought me food or shared whatever they happened to have with them. Those who had the least to give often gave the most. In Oregon a house painter named Mike noted the chilly weather and asked if I had a coat. When he learned that I had "a light one", he drove me to his house, and handed me a big green army-style jacket.
A lumber-mill worker named Tim invited me to a simple dinner with his family in their shabby house. Then he offered me his tent. I refused, knowing it was probably one of the family's most valuable possessions. But Tim was determined that I have it, and finally I agreed to take it.
I was grateful to all the people I met for their rides, their food, their shelter, and their gifts. But what I found most touching was the fact that they all did it as a matter of course.
One day I walked into the chamber of commerce in Jamestown, Tenn. to find out about camping in the area. The executive director, Baxter Wilson, 59, handed me a brochure for a local campground. Seeing that it cost $12, I replied, "No, that's all right. I'll try something else." Then he saw my backpack. "Most people around here will let you pitch a tent on their land, if that's what you want," he said. Now we're talking, I thought. "Any particular direction?" I asked. "Tell you what. I've got a big farm about ten miles south of here. If you're here at 5:30, you can ride with me."
I accepted, and we drove out to a magnificent country house. Suddenly I realized he'd invited me to spend the night in his house.
His wife, Carol, a seventh-grade science teacher, was cooking a pot roast when we walked into the kitchen. Baxter explained that local folks were "mountain stay-at-home people" who rarely entertained in their house. "When we do," he said, "it's usually kin." This revelation made my night there all the more special.
The next morning when I came downstairs, Carol asked if I'd come to their school and talk to her class about my trip, I agreed, and before long had been scheduled to talk to every class in the school. The kids were attentive and kept asking all kinds of questions: Where were people the kindest? How many pairs of shoes did you have? Did anybody try to run you over? Did you fall in love with someone? What were you most afraid of?
Although I hadn't planned it this way, I discovered that a patriotic tone ran through the talks I gave that afternoon. I told the students how my faith in America had been renewed. I told them how proud I was to live in a country where people were still willing to help. I told them that the question I had in mind when I planned this journey was now clearly answered. In spite of everything, you can still depend on the kindness of strangers.
参考译文——陌生人的善心
陌生人的善心
迈克·麦金泰尔
一年夏天，我正驱车从我的家乡加利福尼亚州的塔霍城前往新奥尔良。行驶到沙漠中部时，我遇到了一个站在路边的年轻人。他一手伸出拇指请求搭车，另一只手里握着一个汽油罐。我径直从他身边开了过去。曾经有一个时期在这个国家，如果你对一个需要帮助的人置之不理，那你就会被认为是一个混蛋。而现在如果你帮助了别人你就是一个傻瓜。由于到处都隐藏着歹徒、瘾君子、杀人犯、强奸犯和小偷，“我不想惹麻烦”就成了民族箴言。
驶过了几个州后，我仍然在想着那个搭便车的旅行者。把他束手无策地留在沙漠里并没有让我太烦扰。让我心烦的是，我是多么轻易地就下了这个决定。我甚至都没有把脚从油门上抬起来。
如今还会有人停下来吗？我很想知道。我想起了布兰奇·杜波依斯的著名台词：“我总是依赖陌生人的善心。”如今还会有人依赖陌生人的善心吗？检验此事的一个方法就是让一个人不带钱，只依靠美国同胞的好心，从一个海岸横穿大陆旅行到另一个海岸。他将遇见什么样的美国人呢？谁将会给他食物、提供住处、载他一路？
这个想法激起了我的好奇心。
在我37岁生日的那一周，我意识到我一生中还从未冒过险。因此我决定身无分文地从西海岸旅行到东海岸。在这个美元万能的国家，这将会是一次不花钱的旅行。我将只接受别人提供的便车、食物以及休息场所。我的最终目的地将是北卡罗来纳州的恐怖角，它象征着我在整个旅程中要克服的所有恐惧。
1994年9月6日，我早早地起了床，动身前往金门桥。我背上背着50磅重的行李和一个向过往的车辆展示我此行目的地——“美国”的标志牌。
六周的时间，我免费搭车82次，穿越了14个州，行程4223英里。在我的旅途中，人们总是提醒我其他地方不安全。在蒙大拿州，他们告诉我要提防怀俄明州的牛仔。在内布拉斯加州，他们说艾奥瓦州的人不像他们那么友好。然而，我在所到之处受到的都是善意的款待。我对于人们欣然帮助一个陌生人的行为感到吃惊，因为有时这些行为甚至与他们自己的利益背道而驰。
—天，在内布拉斯加州，一辆汽车在路边停下了。当我靠近车窗户时，我看见两个身着盛装的身材矮小的老妇人。“我知道我们不应该让免费搭车的旅行者上车，但是这里距离前后两个镇太远了，对别人置之不理会让我感觉很糟糕。”司机说，并向我介绍她叫维。我不知道应该为她们让我上车感谢她们还是责备她们。这个妇人告诉我说，她宁愿冒生命危险也不愿意对一个路边的陌生人置之不理，因为那样她会感到不安。
一次，当我在雨中搭不到车时,一个卡车司机把车开到路边，由于刹车过猛，车子打滑冲到了草地上。这位司机告诉我，他曾经被一位搭车者持刀抢劫过。“但是我不愿意看到一个人站在雨中，”他接着说，“人们如今太冷酷无情。”
然而，我发现人们通常还是富有同情心的。一听说我身无分文且也不会拿别人的钱，他们会给我买食物或者与我分享他们碰巧带着的东西。那些最穷困的人却往往给予的最多。在俄勒冈州，一个名叫迈克的建筑油漆工注意到了天气的寒冷，问我是否有大衣。当知道我只有“一件薄外套”时,他开车把我带到他家，并送给我一件绿色军用大夹克衫。
一个名叫提姆的锯木场工人邀请我在他们破旧的房屋里与他的家人共进晚餐。然后他把他的帐篷给了我。知道这个帐篷可能是他们家最值钱的财产之一，我拒绝了他的好意。但是提姆执意要我收下，最终我还是收下了它。
我感谢所有我遇到的人，感谢他们的搭载、食物、他们提供的住处和他们送的礼物。但是我发现最令我感动的是他们做这些事时都认为这是理所当然的。
一天，我走进田纳西州詹姆斯敦的商会去查可以露营的地方。该商会的执行理事，59岁的巴克斯特·威尔逊，递给我一本有关当地露营地的小册子。考虑到去那里扎营要花费12美元，我回答说不用了。我再试试其他办法。”然后他看到了我的背包。“如果你希望的话，这儿附近的大多数人都会让你在他们的土地上搭帐篷。”他说道。我认为他的建议不错。“您知道具体的方向吗？”我问道。“听我说，我在从这儿往南十英里处有一个大农场。如果你五点半到这儿的话，你可以搭我的车过去。”
我接受了他的好意，我们开车到了一处豪华的乡村别墅。我突然明白过来他是在邀请我在他家过夜。
当我们走进厨房的时候，他的妻子卡萝尔，一位七年级的理科教师，正在做炖肉。巴克斯特解释说当地人都是“山区居家人”，他们很少在自己家里招待客人。“当我们在家里招待客人时他说，“那通常是亲友。”这个意外的发现让我感到在那儿度过的夜晚更加特别。
第二天早上我下楼的时候，卡萝尔问我是否愿意去他们的学校，并和她班上的学生谈谈关于我的旅行的事情。我同意了，很快我就被安排和学校每个班级的学生座谈。孩子们很专心，而且还一直问各种各样的问题：哪儿的人最友善？你有多少双鞋？有人试图撞你吗？你爱上某人了吗？你最担心的是什么？
尽管我没有做过这样的准备，但我发现一种爱国气氛贯穿着那天下午的谈话。我告诉学生们我对美国的信心是如何恢复的。我告诉他们生活在这样一个人们仍然愿意帮助别人的国家我是多么的自豪。我告诉他们当我计划这次旅行时心中的疑问现在得到清楚的解答了。无论如何，你仍然可以依靠陌生人的善心。
Key Words:
thumb [θʌm]
n. 拇指
v. 翻阅，示意要求搭车
goodwill ['gud'wil]
n. 善意，亲切，友好; 商誉，信誉。
shelter ['ʃeltə]
n. 庇护所，避难所，庇护
v. 庇护，保护，
motto ['mɔtəu]
n. 座右铭，箴言
kindness ['kaindnis]
n. 仁慈，好意
decision [di'siʒən]
n. 决定，决策
bother ['bɔðə]
v. 使恼怒，使不安，烦扰，费心
pacific [pə'sifik]
n. 太平洋
adj. 太平洋的
contrary ['kɔntrəri]
adj. 相反的，截然不同的
adv. 相反
intrigued
adj. 好奇的；被迷住了的 v. 引起…的兴趣；使迷惑
destination [.desti'neiʃən]
n. 目的地，终点，景点
conquer [.kɔŋkə]
vt. 征服，战胜，克服
vi. 得胜
cape [keip]
n. 岬，海角，披肩
kindness ['kaindnis]
n. 仁慈，好意
symbol ['simbəl]
n. 符号，标志，象征
gamble ['gæmbl]
v. 赌博，投机，孤注一掷
shoulder ['ʃəuldə]
n. 肩膀，肩部
v. 扛，肩负，承担，(用肩
compassionate [kəm'pæʃənit]
adj. 有同情心的 vt. 同情
valuable ['væljuəbl]
adj. 贵重的，有价值的
n. (pl.)贵
shelter ['ʃeltə]
n. 庇护所，避难所，庇护
v. 庇护，保护，
grateful ['greitfəl]
adj. 感激的，感谢的
executive [ig'zekjutiv]
adj. 行政的，决策的，经营的，[计算机]执行指令
brochure [brəu'ʃjuə]
n. 小册子
commerce ['kɔmə:s]
n. 商业，贸易
tent [tent]
n. 帐篷
v. 住帐篷，宿营
director [di'rektə, dai'rektə]
n. 董事，经理，主管，指导者，导演
particular [pə'tikjulə]
adj. 特殊的，特别的，特定的，挑剔的
determined [di'tə:mind]
adj. 坚毅的，下定决心的
revelation [rɛvl'eiʃən]
n. 揭露，泄露，发觉
kin [kin]
n. 家族，亲属
adj. 亲属关系的，同类的
spite [spait]
n. 恶意，怨恨
vt. 刁难，伤害
attentive [ə'tentiv]
adj. 注意的，留意的
willing ['wiliŋ]
adj. 愿意的，心甘情愿的
kindness ['kaindnis]
n. 仁慈，好意
tone [təun]
n. 音调，语气，品质，调子，色调
vt. 使
kitchen ['kitʃin]
n. 厨房，(全套)炊具，灶间
patriotic [.pætri'ɔtik]
adj. 爱国的
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