Pack Toilet Paper

"It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn. Maybe that’s enlightenment enough - to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom, at least for me, means realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go." Anthony Bourdain

When you travel like I do, you often find yourself in situations where you don’t have much to entertain yourself. I always remember that I should download more movies onto my laptop once I am in a situation with very little to do and no internet connection. This has lead to me watching the same 5-6 movies over and over again. These movies include, but are not limited to: Wild, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, and Moana. I guess my taste in movies leans towards movies with a malcontent female character attempting to figure her life out…I wonder why?

Last night I unenthusiastically scrolled through these movies again, attempting to find something to distract myself from the fact that I am feeling really anxious and stressed out. I would start one and then turn it off, frustrated. I couldn’t help but shake my head at myself, because there was a time when those movies encouraged me. Watching the challenging scenarios unroll into a place of acceptance, accomplishment, and peace felt reassuring…as if my situations would soon unroll in the same satisfying way. Last night that just was no longer the case. Turns out, what they say about life and movies is true…life can be much less satisfying and far less conclusive. I guess that is why we watch movies.

Today I am sitting beneath my favorite tree in all of the world—at least my favorite of the trees that I have come into contact with. It is a Ficus tree that sits on the edge of Lake Awassa, a lovely lowland lake that laps at the outskirts of the town of Awassa, Ethiopia. My friend, Adugna, told me once that this tree is very old, “Older than me!” he teased. Its long twisty branches stretch out the entire way across the patio of the Haile resort, creating an oasis for travelers and vacationers to enjoy. The patio could comfortably seat more than 50 people, with sufficient space to spare. That is how large this Ficus tree is. It is incredible. You can't even properly photograph it. Families from Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia, flock here on the weekends to sit beneath this tree, enjoy the lake, and take refuge from the chaos of the week. I guess I am one of them, but I think I am looking to take refuge from more than the week. 

As I sit here, drinking an Ambo and staring at the opposite shore line, I can’t help but think of Anthony Bordain. Not because I liked him— in all honesty I never could quite get into his shows, until recently—but because I have significantly contemplated him ending his life recently. Here was a man who was living the definition of modern day U.S. success: He owned businesses, was famous, AND he TRAVELED (wow)! He traveled the world in a courageous, unassuming way that many people respected and enjoyed. Not knowing him personally, I can only assume that he found himself struggling to compartmentalize all that travel and the world had shown him. Or maybe he, like me, got to a place where he couldn’t stomach people’s obsession with shallow travel any longer... I am sure I will never know. What I do know is my heart goes out to him and those who actually knew him.

I often get comments about how lucky I am to travel and see the world. While I agree, I have been given an opportunity, I have recently begun to take pause when someone says this to me. I think about the countless, empty, white walled hotel rooms that I sit in alone. I think about the airports, delays, missed connections, and tiny, gray, lumpy seats that cost $3,000 to sit in. I think about the hordes of tourists that drop into countries with more of a desire to photograph their experience than to actually experience it, and ultimately ruin the experience for others. I think about the hundreds of coffee shops that have appeared in Phnom Penh, when a majority of Cambodians drink tea. I think about poverty, public health, inequity, pollution, corruption, nepotism, and human rights. I also think about my own personal conflict, that has begun to grow over the years. I think about my own ego in all of it, about how much I gain from these experiences and how little I actually contribute. I think about how much I struggle to reintegrate into my own culture after long stays in a low-income country. I struggle to compartmentalize it all and return to conversations about dating and fitness, over small plates and wine. There is no doubt, I am privileged beyond measure to have lived the life I have over the last three years, but this privilege comes at a cost, a cost that most people don’t ever measure. Instagram can only tell part of the travel story, and I can’t seem to identify which side we (and I) care most about.

Why do we value travel? Is it because we actually value experiences and the pursuit of gaining perspective? Or, do we value being thought of as well traveled? Do I love my job because I am driven by the work, or am I driven by people’s impression of the work? These are questions I have pondered for quite some time, and I have pondered them more severely with the earthly departure of one of pop-cultures most traveled celebrities. I have a long way to go before I will be able to understand my motivations as clearly as I would like to. In the meantime, all I can do is try to speak honestly about my experiences and paint the most accurate picture of what travel has meant to me. Based upon that, I would like to debunk the theory that travel will help you understand the world and feel more complete. In many ways, it has blurred the world for me. The more I see, the less I understand and the less I am capable of thinking about life, people, and the world in a compartmentalized manner. If you go to a country, and openly attempt to immerse yourself in the culture, the people, and the history, the experience will leave you changed—but not necessarily better, happier, or more complete. Travel, for me, has meant changing the way I think; not only about the world, but also about myself.

Travel has a way of forcing you to examine yourself and your life, while simultaneously forcing you to look outward at the lives of others. I think this is particularly true if you travel alone. For me, travel has forced me to face truths about myself and the fears/insecurities/heartaches I hold onto. It has also demonstrated to me the fine lines between happiness and heartache, good and evil, potential and hopelessness, connection and loneliness, and the list goes on. To sum it up, travel has shown me the grays the exist in this world, and the magnitude of the complexity that makes up the human experience. Travel has given me beautiful memories, taken me to locations that are impossible to describe, and shown me the wonder and fullness of life. It has also shown me the world's underbelly, leaving a bad taste in my mouth that I may never get rid of.  I have stood in front of sights and situations that are breathtaking, in both a wondrous and horrific sense. Travel has made me keenly aware of just how small my life is, and always will be, in the scheme of things. Travel has also expanded the capacity of my heart beyond what I thought was humanly possible. I never would have believed I could love people and places as much as I do. Sometimes, the thought of not returning to a place breaks my heart. I can’t stand the thought of never seeing the faces of some of my international colleagues and friends again. It scares me as much as the thought of never returning home to my family and friends in the U.S. 

So, today, I sit halfway across the world from a majority of the things I hold dearest, beneath the extended branches of one of my favorite trees. The poignancy of the moment seems too much to comprehend, much less explain. I am beginning to recognize that my existence may ultimately end up being one of division. As my heart has taken more things in, the more the conflict between them has begun to grow. The reality that I may always have to choose between all of the things that I love and hope for sets in. Existing in multiple places at once is beyond the realm of the physical world, and my heart simply cannot choose. In the words of AB: “"Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind."

If there is a final statement I can make it is this: Don’t travel because you think you should, or because you think you can impact the world and its people by doing so. You can do so much to make a difference right in your own community. The world is full of hurting, struggling, and in-need people. Don’t travel because you think it will give you greater perspective. You can seek perspective sitting on your couch. Don’t travel for likes and photographs. You can post the millionth picture of a local sunset to get that. Travel because you want to. Plain and simple as that. And, if I can encourage you to travel in a way that makes you uncomfortable, I would. Just know that being uncomfortable isn’t as glamorous as the movies make it seem. I can’t promise that it will all unroll in a satisfying way. I can only promise that it will hurt, but then again, being stretched hurts. If that is what you are looking for, then wonderful, just prepare yourself for all that it will mean. I guess you can say the same thing about life in general.  Oh, and, get yourself a good backpack...and pack toilet paper.

"The journey is part of the experience - an expression of the seriousness of one’s intent. One doesn’t take the A train to Mecca."-AB