On Courtesy and Smiles

A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
Saint Basil


In our era, courtesy is the object of constant eulogies. I hear these in private conversations as well as in the media. Kindness and gentility have died, people keep saying.

I don’t believe that.

Nevertheless, there are occasions, and often, I admit, when I’d welcome the smallest gesture that indicates that a person, if only momentarily, has placed the well-being of another before his or her own.

I especially wish this when I’m caught in one of Panama City’s notorious traffic jams. Whenever my wife—who is usually behind the steering wheel—stops to allow another vehicle to enter the flow of traffic, if the recipient of her thoughtfulness fails to acknowledge the gift, half irritated and half in jest, I exclaim, “Hey, where’s our wave?” (Credit for that line, of course, goes to Seinfeld.)

On the rare occasions when drivers signal their gratitude, my wife and I wave back, large grins on our faces.

And that’s something I’ve noticed, courteous acts usually trigger big smiles.

And a recent incident confirmed, for me at least, that chivalry lives on—this in spite of its much proclaimed demise.

Pedestrians in Central America—in comparison to the United States—have few rights. For instance, when one crosses the street without the benefit of a traffic light (and sometimes a green signal is no guarantee of safe passage) one has to be prepared to dodge vehicles: the vast majority of drivers seem intent on making it to their destinations with as few stops as possible. Because of this, crossing a street in Panama City is, in my eyes, akin to playing Frogger—with the frog being the pedestrian. (Frogger, for those who may not know, is one of the earliest video games; in it, the player has to get a frog across a five-lane highway without the poor amphibian getting squished.)

As I write this I realize that now the idea of crossing a street in Panama City must seem terrifying to the outsider, but the truth is that this enterprise can quite interesting , and it’s certainly one that brings on an adrenaline rush.

A couple of weeks ago, I was crossing a heavily-trafficked, one-way, two-lane street near my home when, after waiting a couple of minutes for the steady flow of vehicles to subside, I spotted an upcoming gap. I crossed the lane closest to me and stopped midway through the street to allow the last vehicle of the herd—a motorcycle—to pass. Soon, though, I became concerned when the driver started to slow down. I waved my arm across my waist a few times, inviting him to pass. Instead, right before reaching me, the motorcycle came to a complete halt.

Startled, I looked straight at the motorcyclist who, fortunately for me, wore a helmet without a visor. The handsome young man broke into a friendly grin and said, “Por favor, señor, pase usted.”

The driver’s kind gesture so startled me that I immediately started to chuckle as I thanked him—and waved, of course—as I finished crossing the street. As I continued on my errand, I became caught in the recollection of the driver’s selflessness—and the warmth of his humanity accompanied me along the way.

I had advanced a couple of blocks before I noticed people staring at me, and then smiling as we crossed paths. It was at that point that the ripple effect of the young man’s act brought me back to a luminous reality—throughout that stretch of my journey, unknowingly, I had been smiling, to myself, touched by the radiance of another person’s kindness.