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people have been killed because they rankled the powerful by asking that we love one an-
other. But for most of us, love is all any of us really has. It is our source of nourishment and
our source of energy. It warms us when the nights grow cold, and when we are faced with
fear. When we are walking into territories unknown, it is what connects us to each other,
despite which nation we might call home, despite which religion we practice or which be-
liefs we hold dear.
After leaving the ruins of Ephesus I walked around town and was met with the kindness
and generosity that seemed to flow from the Turkish people. Not that I didn't suffer any
rejection, but it didn't take me long to meet Menekse, a local woman who invited me to
have dinner with her and her husband.
It is amazing how modern culture has come to unite us. Even in a small town in Turkey,
Menekse wore American blue jeans and an Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt. First, we went to
a local tea shop, where a group of older men sat and smoked hookahs, while younger men
and women worked on their laptops or texted on their phones.
As we waited for her husband, I told Menekse where I was off to next, explaining that I
had all my visas in place for Iran and Pakistan.
She interrupted me, “You're going to go on your bike?”
“Yes,” I answered rather sheepishly, seeing the concern on her face.
She took her cup of tea in hand, “I don't think it's secure going by bike at the moment .
. . to those places.”
Menekse paused for a moment, as though deciding how best to word her thoughts, “It
was a bit warm last month . . . over there.”
Before I left on my journey, I had plotted my route, deciding which countries I would
see, acquiring the necessary visas, and determining which would be the fastest route across
the world. That route included passing through Iran and right into Pakistan. Bold, yes. Dar-
ing, sure. But impossible? I really didn't think that would be the case. I had Kindness One
to keep me safe and the kind of confidence that fuels such dreams. I imagined driving
through Tehran and finding an Islamic family to guide me. I thought I would surely meet
some young Pakistanis who would trade a ride on Kindness One for dinner and perhaps a
night's stay. I had been dreaming of this part of my trip since I first drew the line from Tur-
key to India, knowing that this was not only the fastest route, but also the most interesting
one.
I knew the trip was risky, but I also knew that this was what this journey was all
about—it was about reaching out to people in even the harshest environments and discov-
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