Make a Better World

It’s common knowledge among most travelers: if everybody traveled, the world would be a better place. We live in a time that so easily allows us, if not forces us, to take sides and opine on things we don’t understand. It’s natural to generalize, stereotype and assume. And it’s harmful to us all.

On the other hand, establishing a personal connection, empathizing and seeing the effects of our world on itself changes our approach entirely. Experiencing the humanity of a group we reflexively criticize causes reflection. Learning about customs we initially deem “weird” helps us empathize. We realize there’s hardly a “right” or “wrong”, just differences to reconcile.

So it’s easy to hate, impulsive to take sides. Terrible things happen in the world, and the news feels like it’s surrounding you, tightening its grip around the final vestiges of humanity. But it’s the exceptional (read: sensational) that sells, not the normal. The vast, vast, vast majority of people are good, and wish well for everyone else. There’s no line in the sand or sides to take; everybody depends on everyone else in some way. It’s far more difficult, uncomfortable and scary to pursue this type of relationship with the world, but the effects are far better, and longer-lasting, for everybody. 

While it’s tempting to lash out or hide behind a self-imposed fence, that will only perpetuate those false senses of threats. Instead, it takes deliberate thought and connection to those very same elements. The world really is beautiful, and we can continue to make it even more so if we truly set out to learn about it. 

Travel. Break down barriers. Look for a bridge to build. Listen to an opposing view (and I mean really listen). Respect humans, because they are humans. Be part of the world, and connect with it. Step by step, little by little, it will become an even better place.

I'm a Tourist at Home

Returning home is exhausting, probably even more so than the trip itself. Or perhaps it’s just the four months of momentum now swinging wildly in another direction despite my feeble resistance. Changing from nonstop adventure, not really knowing where I’d end up two days later, to searching for one place to plant myself for months can feel a bit demoralizing.

Then again, it still looks like I’ll show up in DC without definite housing. So, that sense of adventure is still going strong.

I've managed in the past
Credit: Ana Stojanovic, Gili Trawangan, Indonesia, 2013

Despite my reservations, I am very excited to move back to DC. There’s always something going on, and the people watching is unmatched. There are few places in the world that one can find a scruffy social activist mingling with a buttoned-up political hopeful and flashy, new-money businesspeople. The contrast isn’t usually so strong, but I’ve seen it.

Nor can most other people frequently use motorcades as an excuse for being late (I’ve only done it once or twice), visit multiple embassies in one day just for fun (Passport DC), or find drink specials based on Capitol Hill’s absurdities.

They influence everything from taxes to drinking games

After living in one place for awhile, it’s easy to forget about the quirks that make it special. They’re normal to you. But spend enough time away (it’s been over a year since I left) and you’ll appreciate it that much more. Those familiarities you came to love welcome you back, and everything you’d forgotten is now new again.

Cherry Blossoms, 2013

I’m particularly fortunate working as a tour guide - not only do I constantly see DC from a visitor’s view, but it prompted me to think about and articulate what about the city kept me around and brings me back. It's made me appreciate the place that much more.

Holi on the Quad, 2011

A Brief Reflection

Coming home seems to have been almost as exhausting as backpacking itself. Five days in and I’m only just getting my thoughts together. Sure enough, there’s still plenty of excitement to go around, mostly in the form of beach soccer, beach fireworks and beach drinking.

Now I’m back in the Philly area, using it as a base for some mini-adventures before returning to DC. It’s strange to me how everything feels exactly as I left it, just much hotter. For some reason I’d expected things to seem drastically different and almost foreign to me. Instead it’s more like I’ve just woken up from a dream, my tour already feeling like a foggy creation in the back of my mind. Here I am simply continuing along as I always have.

I imagine a lot of the fog comes from just how intense the trip was. While on any individual day I could explore at my leisure, overall I crammed a lot into a fairly short amount of time: 

11 countries, 30 cities
~200 hours of biking
~100 different beers, and as many liters
Unknown hours of aimless exploring

And, of course, the people. Everybody I met was living an impressively unique life. For a light sample, I’ve hung out with two traveling musicians, a beekeeper, a physicist, a lawyer, actors, bankers and, above all, wanderers. 

A lot happened. Quirky details, strange contexts and new ideas are all swirling about. I used to feel as if my travel world and home world existed separately from each other. But now they are blending together. Everything is foggy and confused, but I can see the familiar with a fresh sensation and feel the new as if it were home. So, although I can separate my experiences into segments like the past four months it really is just becoming one grand adventure.

Moving Along

One of the most stunning movies I’ve seen (and I’ll eventually read the book, too) is Life of Pi. Though the context could hardly be more different, it’s still a story of personal transformation and self-discovery. I could write an entire post about this, but there’s one quote that I find particularly relevant today:

“I suppose, in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go…” - Adult Pi Patel

We release certain inhibitions that keep us within our comfort zones; we let go of our former selves, the world we know and people we love. Sometimes it’s for survival and sometimes to thrive.

At times, travel can seem like an accelerated version of such. Just as you accustom yourself to a new place, learn its streets and feel its pulse, it’s time to start again. People flow through your life faster than you usually meet them. Memories pile into your brain so quickly they blur and merge. And every trip comes to a close.

Technically, anyway.

I wrote that paragraph upon leaving Switzerland, sad to have to leave yet another close friend and wonderful place behind (this is resurfacing with my friend here in Vienna). Brooding over the flight home that was rapidly approaching (and is now under 24 hours from now), I had considered it an end-point of fun and excitement; the next page in life would be a return to drudgery and monotony.

But that didn’t seem right. Home is hardly devoid of joy and excitement. Indeed, I love living in Philly/DC. So the journey is far from over. Instead I’m just going to a different place yet again. It’s another section of a long, continuous adventure that’s only over when I stop pursuing it.

Just as when day turns to night, life does not disappear but renews its romance

Thinking about it further, everything I do after returning to the States will be a result of these experiences. I’ve built ideas and clarified others along the way that will guide me through future decisions. Plus, I’ll have these memories as motivators to continue the adventure, as well as to cherish along the way.

And Rocinante to remind me of it all

So while, physically, you must move on from everything, your experiences will always remain an influential part of your persona. Just as Pi (in context of his quote) must let go of Richard Parker, his family and so on, they continue to be a part of his life. I’ve parted ways with dozens of friends and left behind enchanting locales. Tomorrow I break with my current path, but also realize that it’s part of the eternally growing foundation of the rest of my life.

In that sense, letting go isn’t so bad.

So jump in and enjoy the ride