Just got this idea right now. Have you ever, while travelling, met with some unexpected help from complete strangers? An act done not out of the desire for earning a tip, but a selfless act from a complete stranger. To get the wheels turning, thought i’d post up this really interesting article, written by someone, based upon an actual experience they had while they were travelling in Tangier. Nice to see there are still people like this man, out there.
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“What’s wrong?” Michelle asked, seven blocks and four turns later.
“We’re out of gas.”
The car had sputtered to a stop in the middle of the street and wouldn’t start. Michelle took the wheel and I pushed the car over to the busy kerb.
“Now what do we do?”
“Maybe ask that policeman who’s coming over here.”
Before I could reply, the police officer was saying something to me and motioning angrily at the car.
“What’s he saying?”
“I think he wants us to move the car.”
“Okay, but did he say where or how?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought you spoke French.”
“I took it in school, but that was a long time ago.”
Here things started to get surreal. I found myself in a state of dreamlike helplessness, totally unable to move. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. The situation had moved out of my hands. The sounds of honking horns, the policeman’s voice and the surrounding clamour faded into a quiet dull roar, as if I were underwater. I had given up, and it felt like floating.
Then I saw a flash of white on the crowded streets that brought everything sharply back into focus. Someone was waving a white cloth or rag at me. A man was trying to get my attention. His eyes were urgent, and he motioned for me to follow. As I stepped forward he turned and began to run. I followed.
I didn’t know where we were going, but I knew I couldn’t lose him. He was going really fast, but I managed to keep up. I hadn’t run like this since high school. Our feet pounded on the pavement and we wove through the crowds and traffic. Suddenly there it was, the Shell gas station! We ran up to the pumps and the man began to speak urgently in Arabic to the attendants. He kept pointing at me, and I attempted to smile through my gasping breaths.
He motioned for me to stay put, perhaps pitying my stamina, and headed off around a corner. I followed, and found him emptying water out of a plastic bottle. We filled the one-liter bottle up with gas and I paid. Then we were off again, running back to the car.
When Michelle saw me her eyes lit up. I tried to open the gas tank, but it was locked and the key wouldn’t turn. My rescuer gently took the keys from me and, jiggling them just so, popped the gas cap off. He stuck two fingers into the tank and gestured that I should pour the gas down over them to prevent spillage. I did so, and the gas went in.
This was the third man who had led me through Tangier’s twisted, crowded streets, and I had over-tipped the previous two who had latched themselves onto me without invitation. Everyone I had talked to since I’d arrived had been perfectly nice and polite, from the hotel clerk to Asadel at the car rental, but their agenda was clear: they wanted money, dirham.
This guy had genuinely saved my ass, and as we stood there panting and smiling, my heart swelled with gratitude. When I reached into my pocked and brought out my wallet to give him something for his trouble, his eyes darkened and he held up his hands, palms out.
“No, my friend,” he spoke for the first time. “You are my brother. In my land, my religion, we are taught to help strangers. You were a foreigner in trouble, I did this not for gold.”
Tears filled my eyes and I embraced my Good Samaritan. “Thank you,” I said, and I’d never meant it more.
Soon Michelle and I would be on the highway, heading to the mountain hamlet of Chefchaouen and further adventures, running the gauntlet of lorries, donkey carts and road-side hash dealers. But no memory of our journey stands out more than this unlikely start on the streets of Tangier.
aw 
i am truly sorry to hear that experience. You would think people wouldn’t have a problem with that, afterall it’s not like it is going to cost them anything. 
i don’t know who she was, first time we had seen her, but the lady at the front desk of the hotel offered by herself to cover the difference. She paid for it out of her own pocket - even though she didn’t know us at all, and would never see us again, nothing. i still remember her saying, ‘i have a daughter who is about your age and if she was in your position, i would wish that someone would help her out’. She gave us one of the best rooms in the hotel. She was just so friendly & amazing in every way.