Last summer, we arrived in Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi, at 2:00 in the morning without having arranged any accommodation. The bus depot was dark and primarily deserted, save a few people huddled around scattered fires. Given the darkness and dearth of transportation options, our bus driver offered to let everyone sleep on the bus until morning. The bus would be taking off again at 6:00 a.m. and new passengers would start arriving at 5:00 a.m., but at least it would be light out by then.
In retrospect, we should have done this, but we had gotten on that bus approximately twelve hours earlier in Lusaka, Zambia and African long-distance buses are not renowned for their comfort. We were ready to be anywhere but that bus. So when a small car pulled up to the bus and the driver offered his services as a taxi, we were interested. The bus driver acted as a translator for us and the other three non-central Africans on the bus, and he negotiated a rate for this taxi driver to take us to a particular hostel. Because the driver’s car was small, it was decided that he would take us first, and then return for the others.
As we sped down dark streets in the back of an unmarked taxi piloted by a man with whom we could only barely communicate, I realized what a terrible mistake this had been. No one, other than the people we had left back at the bus depot, knew where we were, and those people didn’t even know our full names.
Because you are sitting behind your computer reading this, you may have guessed that our ill-conceived journey turned out just fine. The taxi driver drove us straight to the hostel and even helped us rouse the night guard before returning shortly with the other three travelers.
Things could have gone so sideways. But for the grace of God that we didn’t end up robbed, dead, or worse. I thought about that yesterday when I read this article about Dahlia Yehia. A 27-year-old art teacher from Texas, Dahlia Yehia traveled to Nepal where she was allegedly beaten to death by her CouchSurfing host. Earlier this summer, I read about Jacob Lopez, a 19-year-old boy from Massachusetts, who was held captive in a Madrid apartment and sexually assaulted by his Airbnb host. These stories are horrifying to any human; to a traveler — particularly a traveler who uses services like Airbnb or CouchSurfing — they can be terrifying.
Our taxi ride through Lilongwe in the wee hours is now just an amusing anecdote from our trip, but, whenever I read stories about travelers being killed or abused, I shiver, remembering how we unnecessarily put ourselves in danger. Travel is, in large part, about being open to new experiences and stepping outside of your comfort zone, but one should never forget to always (always, always) put safety first.
One of the huge draws of sites like Airbnb and CouchSurfing is that connecting with a local host affords you an opportunity to have a more authentic experience than if you were staying in a hotel. That same host interaction is, conversely, one of the drawbacks: when anyone can list themselves as a host, travelers might encounter hosts with nefarious intentions.
I have never used CouchSurfing, but I have used (and loved) Airbnb. I have never had anything less than a terrific experience, especially where hosts are concerned. I have to imagine that the vast majority of users of these sites are people just like you and me: people excited to see the world and to interact with people from other places. Of course, as the tragic stories of Dahlia Yehia and Jacob Lopez remind us, we cannot assume that everyone means well.
Always be choosy with your hosts. Hosts are rated by previous guests, so always read the reviews. Consider what it means if a particular host has no reviews. It may be something as simple as the host is new to the service, but take that into consideration. If you are traveling alone, perhaps you might want to avoid hosts with no reviews. Engage with your potential hosts. In my experience, most Airbnb users are incredibly friendly, and chatting with them before you arrive ensures compatibility (especially in a situation where you and your host are sharing the unit). Obviously, people lie online (we’ve all seen Catfish at least once), so, even if you feel comfortable with their messages, you should still be on guard when you meet them in person. If possible (especially if you are traveling alone), meet your host in a public place before proceeding to the unit. If anything seems off — in the messages, during the first meeting, or thereafter — just get yourself out of there. Better safe than sorry.
Happy (and safe) adventuring,
Katie.
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Image credit: Julien LOZELLI