Spending time at the safety crew's dinner was a revelation, for me. As a guest in other circumstances, I've often felt a subtle obligation to stick by my host. As if anyone who hadn't heard the invitation might wonder why I was there. They might not out and say it, but at times I definitely felt it: "Did someone invite you? Because if not, you should probably leave."
Chilling with the safety crew, I felt 100% welcome, at home, and at ease. When people came out of the trailer and saw me, there was no hesitating moment of confusion. When it was time to eat, someone just stuffed a plate into my hands. When I hung back to document the experience, another person admonished, "get some while it's hot." And when I finally stopped shooting and started eating, yet another person asked if he could get me anything to drink from inside.
The middle of a racetrack was the most unexpected place to find hospitality, but I suppose the best kind of gift is one that's unbelievable until it happens.