“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.” -Mark Twain "Romanticism, which encourages variety, meshes perfectly with consumerism. Their marriage has given birth to the infinite 'market of experiences', on which the modern tourism industry is founded. The tourism industry does not sell flight tickets or hotel bedrooms. It sells experiences. Paris is not a city, nor India a country - they are both experiences, the consumption of which is supposed to widen our horizons, fulfill our human potential, and make us happier." -Yuval Noah Harari Like a lot of people who have traveled frequently and or have lived abroad, I've heard Mark Twain's quote on how 'Travel is fatal to prejudice...'. Yet as I've gotten older, and as I've become more familiar with many kinds of tourists, I've become less certain that traveling in and of itself is enough to make people less narrow-minded and more wholesome in their views.
As someone who loves traveling and experiencing different cultures and countries, I feel so fortunate to be living in this time. It's never been easier for people (especially with Western and first world passports) to experience parts of the world that are different from the corner you come from. You can book flights, trains, hostels and tours with a few swipes of your fingers. At the same time, I've also begun to notice the shallower aspects of modern travel. Like most everything in our world of smartphones and social media, people seem less interested in experiencing something new and more focused on making sure they're seen experiencing it. Travel is less about a traveler seeing a place and more about a traveler seeing themselves in that place. (Thanks Jens Hieber for that great bit of wisdom ;) ) Getting the perfect selfie, finding the right monument, landscape or human backdrop that makes your gorgeous face seem adventurous, cultured and global. To an extent, everyone who travels does these things. I definitely have.
I also try my hardest though to dig, at least a little, into each country I visit. Sometimes I read a book about or set in that place. I watch a documentary or two. If I manage to break my introverted shell when I'm in a country, I'll ask some local people questions about their views on certain issues or topics. I delve into aspects of the local culture or nation that are not always particularly easy to talk about or insta-worthy. In my view, travel shouldn't have to be shallow in order to be a good experience. In fact, I find greater meaning in my travels when I confront a difficult issue that forces me to confront my feelings, prejudices or biases.
On my recent trip to Vietnam, I made a point to visit a military cemetery for Vietnamese war dead (mostly from the Vietnam and French Indochina War) outside Hoi An. This small town near the coast, is an extremely popular place for foreign tourists. It has a well maintained old town near a river. That means it's easy to get great selfies and photos in exotic and clean looking surroundings while also shopping for souvenirs and good food from around the world. The military graveyard had not been something on my initial itinerary but because I was keen to learn more about the local angle on the Vietnam War I made a point to go. I was especially intrigued because I could find very little detailed information on the cemetery online (at least in English).
I found a ride from the old part of town pretty quickly and within ten minutes I was at the cemetery. During the fifteen to twenty minutes I spent there, I was the only visitor. When I left I couldn't help but feel melancholy. I was sad not just because of the heavy atmosphere the cemetery conveyed but also because I knew how overshadowed this place was by the way more selfie-genic streets of Hoi An which were just a few minutes away. Out of the hundreds of foreign tourists I had seen taking photos in the market and at the riverside, I would have thought at least a few would have bothered to come over.
None of this to attack Hoi An. It's a very cool place. I would easily go back there. I myself took a lot of photos in the old town and I could easily spend more time in that part of Vietnam if I had the chance. It just saddens me that so many travelers don't want to see and learn more about the places they are wandering through. While traveling has never been easier, it's also never been easier for tourists and foreigners outside their home countries to insulate themselves from the people, history and places they visit.
When people think of a 'clueless-tourist' the image that often comes to mind is of an older person who stays in a resort on the beach in a developing country, never leaving except on a guided tour to a famous monument or a tourist market; every aspect of the program tailored to their cultural norms and personal whims.
I think though, there are many ways tourists can fall into having shallower and more insulated experiences than they might think. Hostels and backpacker restaurants and bars can be just as much of a bubble as a luxury resort. A twenty something who goes to the south of Thailand and gets drunk every night while lying on a beach everyday with people from their country will not really understand anything about the lives of Thai people who have to try and make a living there. A young French and American couple, who get frustrated with local people begging for money in Vietnam, but won't ask how they're countries' bloody and vicious history in Vietnam contributed to those people's lives. As such, they may come back to their home countries with a lot of experiences but will they be the kind of experiences that really make them understand the world more? Will they question themselves, their previously held beliefs and their place in the wider world? Will they learn how to be better and conscientious consumers of the countries they visit in the future? In some ways, I'm sure they will. However, when I look at how many prejudices and narrow minds pervade and flourish in our globalized interconnected world, I can't help but think that travel itself is only eye opening if you are willing to open them yourself.
As a TCK who grew up in Thailand and spent a huge junk of my life in other countries, that's been a hard lesson to learn at times.
I'm still learning it and there are days where I can't accept it.
Objectively speaking though, it's the truth.
For those who don't know, TCK stands for Third Culture Kid and refers to people who grew up or spent their formative years in another country or countries that weren't their country of citizenship.
TCKs include Military Brats, Embassy Kids, Missionary Children, people of mixed national backgrounds and many others.
Because we spend so much time moving from place to place and interacting with people from different backgrounds we are very adaptable, insightful people. TCKs pride ourselves as lovers of diversity and being very tolerant of others.
Yet from personal experience that's not entirely true. There's a certain demographic many TCKs have a very difficult time accepting. It's a portion of the world's people we sometimes poke fun at and complain about when we're surrounded by those like us.
No matter which passport(s) a TCK holds, it seems like we have a hard time understanding and accepting the people from our countries of origin who have never lived or traveled anywhere outside of their small town or community.
As a citizen of the US, those people for me are small town Americans.
I've lived through civil unrest and political upheaval in Egypt. I experienced a military coup in Thailand (not very eventful) and I was within earshot of a clash between Israelis and Palestinians in Jerusalem.
Yet honestly the most angst inducing moments of my life have been those times where I knew I would have to spend an extended period of time living in a town in rural Ohio or Kansas where almost everyone I met would have never traveled more than a few hundred miles outside their small town.
Why?
Well, I think like many TCKs, it can be hard to relate to other people in general. Even if someone I meet from my country of origin has traveled before there's usually a huge disconnect between our life experiences.
This gap can be hard to bridge. When we return to our countries or origin, where we often look like everyone else, we are expected to blend in to the surrounding culture as if we've never left.
This is an impossible task and inevitably we face the prospect of being labeled strange and different by our peers for our worldviews and experiences.
If you move to a town where almost everyone is the same race and religion and has gone to the same restaurants, movie theaters, gas stations, shooting ranges, sports teams and experiences as everyone else, it's even harder to find common ground.
Not only is it hard to find common ground, often the views of the wider world we encounter from small town people are narrow. Sometimes they're worldviews are downright intolerant or prejudiced.
In small town America, I've encountered views about Muslims, Latino Immigrants and other demographics that I've found very hard to listen to.
Yet even though in many situations I believe my worldview is broader and a lot more accurate when it comes to world cultures, I've also coming to realize that always calling someone out for their narrow views isn't always productive or fair.
I first had this revelation a few years ago when I began thinking about how my reactions to narrow views had been different when I encountered them in other countries. I knew plenty of Egyptians who had very negative and racist views of Africans, Israelis, Jews and even Americans. Yet I was able to still accept them as people and I got a long with them generally well despite disagreeing with them.
So, I asked myself, why couldn't I do the same with fellow Americans?
This thought exercise came to light again recently when I watched a very interesting TED Talk delivered by Sally Kohn, an openly Lesbian talking head at Fox News. In it she talks about the importance of being emotionally correct rather than focusing just on being politically correct. In her own words:
'...we've been focused on political correctness,but what matters more is emotional correctness. Let me give you a small example.I don't care if you call me a dyke. I really don't.I care about two things.One, I care that you spell it right...
'...And second, I don't care about the word,I care about how you use it.Are you being friendly? Are you just being naive?Or do you really want to hurt me personally?Emotional correctness is the tone, the feeling,how we say what we say,the respect and compassion we show one another.And what I've realized is that political persuasiondoesn't begin with ideas or facts or data.Political persuasion begins with
being emotionally correct.'
As a TCK, this spoke volumes to me. I was confronted again by the uncomfortable fact that at times I had not been very compassionate to people I knew were more ignorant than I was. I had been very judgmental of some who I knew had worldviews that they really couldn't help but have given the circumstances of their lives.
I thought back to some of the times I encountered narrow views in America. I realized hadn't tried to put myself in the shoes of the person expressing them. I had focused on how wrong their views were but had forgotten to think of them as people.
How could I expect people who had never left their towns to have the same views of Muslims and Arabs that someone who lived in a Muslim country for two and a half years did? How could I expect older people who's entire life had been built around people of the same skin tone and religion to be as understanding of the differences in the culture of foreigners?
My views on the world were forged by my life circumstances. If I had been born and raised in the same Ohio town I lived in as a child I would probably have similar views to many other people. I was lucky enough to have grown up in a very multicultural environment. Most people in this world just don't get that opportunity and that's not something I can really fault them for.
That doesn't make what they believe right. It doesn't make racist or narrow views any less racist or narrow. However, human beings are human beings in any scenario, and as a TCK that's something that I should always strive to remember.
1) Transgender people can still be kicked out of the US military
Yep, I learned this while listening to NPR as we drove through rural Kansas. While my scaly travel companions clung to their artificial tree branches, I learned that don't ask don't tells repeal only made it ok for openly gay men and women to serve in the US military. Apparently, it's still fine to boot out openly transgender men and women.
2) There are people in Kansas who actually listen to NPR (well, three anyway)
Yes, NPR exists in a conservative state like Kansas and people do listen to it...well at least three do. I listened to the station for about four hours during my trip and they played separate recordings of the same two people for their customer testimonials. Still, it's quality programing and I'm sure the Geckos appreciated getting a well rounded look at today's current events.
3) People in rural Kansas shoot off fireworks in corn fields
This probably isn't too surprising given how isolating life in some of the six home, one gas station mini-mart towns must be. While driving back from Oklahoma I passed through four separate towns where young people were shooting off fireworks in cornfields. Granted, it might be practicing for fourth of July celebrations next weekend.
4) Taco Bueno is better than Taco Bell but isn't Mexican food
For the uninitiated, Taco Bueno is a fast food Tex-Mex chain. It's best described as a better version of Taco Bell. The portions are larger the quality is slightly better and you don't feel like your digestive system has been ravaged once you've had your last bite. None of that makes it great Mexican food but after three hours in a car with no one to listen to your renditions of Pink but 25 confused lizards, it manages to hit the spot.
5) Bluegrass is perfect music for driving through an endless sea of corn and wheat
I'm not a country fan. However, I have a soft-spot for old school folk and bluegrass. Both types of music are awesome to turn on when driving through an area that has nothing but farm fields. The downside is it also contributes to graphic fantasies of hillbillies emerging with shotguns from the cornrows.
6) Kansas City's main mix station can't be lost easily
I don't have an MP3 player and I'm do lazy to burn CDs (You know, cause that's so time consuming). This means I usually listen to a local mix station 102.1 when driving around Kansas City. What I didn't know was that you can drive almost two hours south of the city and still pick up the station pretty clearly. This means I can listen to my favorite station play the exact same songs from about ten singers over, and over, and over, and over again...ah, American Pop Culture.
7) A ton of cars in Oklahoma have Cherokee Nation License Plates
The
Cherokee people were forcibly relocated to Oklahoma by the US
government during a tragic event known as the Trail of Tears. Several
thousand Cherokee died in the forced march from the Appalachian
Mountains. Today, a large number of Cherokee live in the State and as such you see a number of cars with Cherokee nation license plates.
8) Oklahoma State troopers' cars need a new design
Don't worry I wasn't pulled over. However, I did get a look at the cars of the Oklahoma Highway Patrol Cars. Let me tell you, they have the absolute worst paint scheme of any highway patrol cars I've ever seen and I've been in a number of States. The cars are all white (as are the troopers) and have a black outline of the state of Oklahoma on the side...that's it. I think these officers need to do some consulting with the fashion police.
You can admit it. You may have tried forgetting it... Nevertheless, it's there on the horizon.
And I want to tell you wherever you are, it's fine. That's the message I wanted to tell those of you who share my stage of life: in the latter days of their twenties with thirty on the horizon.
Turning twenty six two years ago increased my awareness of my age. Turning twenty seven has made that awareness ever more acute. Like most of you, I've dwelt more on this fact more often than I should have. I've looked over my life since college and made the mistake of comparing it to others. I wonder about different paths, different roads and I try and decipher the pictures on social media to see if friends from high-school or college are more or less content with themselves than I am.
I know you've done this too. We know we shouldn't make these comparisons. But we do. We're human and we have windows into the lives of others as no generation has had before.
In the end though, social media is just that a window. The realm of the internet is a trailer of a person's movie not the biopic of their entire life.
Since coming back to the States in February I've been able to catch up with a number of my peers. Without the pressures of full time teaching I can finally make space to truly reconnect with all the people I'd lost touch with during my two years in Thailand. Whether over Skype or in the flesh the stories I've been told by friends have been as diverse as they have been insightful.
Some people have moved from one country to another, some have changed cities, some have started new careers or gone back to school, some have made a rapid ascent up the ladder.
Many have gotten married, some have gotten divorced, some have ended long relationships, some have moved back in with their parents, others have moved out.
And for some their world has not changed significantly at all. They remain in the same place they were two years ago, working the same job, living in the same house, together with the same person.
All these changes have been fascinating to learn about. Each life is so different and yet the one thing that holds us all together is that no one really feels like they have figured everything out. There's still, for most people I've talked to, a sense of uncertainty about their journey. For all the empty spaces we've filled in our lives, there remain vacancies. Some old some new.
A successful job but no relationship, a profession which brings money and prestige but no personal satisfaction, a fulfilling profession that doesn't pay quite enough to support a family.
We are fuller people. Yet we are also more aware than ever of the empty places in ourselves.
Yet, it's all alright. I'm here to write you that it's okay. I believe one day many of those holes will be filled and the few that remain will be become treasures to us.
Because the older we get the more comfortable we become with the weaknesses we have and prouder of the strengths we possess. I find myself loving the holes and vacancies in my life with new appreciation. We may never be full but that does not mean we are empty. It doesn't mean we can't live a life of meaning, purpose and contentment.
You are not alone in your uncertainty and ambiguity. That is what this decade is all about. :)
A little over a week ago I came back to the US from Thailand. Moving from country to country, continent to continent is something I'm used to. That said, I still get reverse culture shock every time I come back to the country of my birth. Though the world is always getting smaller, there are some big differences in the way cultures across the world think and operate. If you're an ex-pat, one of your biggest challenges is often having to readjust some aspects of your self to fit the particular culture you find yourself living in at that time.
I thought I'd share some of the recent experiences that made me a bit discombobulated as I try to put myself into America mode after being abroad for another two years.
-Instinctively Wanting to Say Thank You in Another Language Besides English
When I came back to the US last Thursday, I touched down in San Francisco so I could meet up with some friends. Staying in the Bay Area meant that I was in close proximity to a number of immigrant communities and a diverse range of cultures.
In some ways this made the process of going back easier. At the same time, encountering so many nationalities behind the counter of a restaurant or store instinctively made me want to say thank you in one of the languages I've used over the years besides English. This was, I'll add, regardless of whether the person in front of me knew said language or not. I was able to catch myself most of the time though I still ended up saying 'Kup Khun Krap' in Thai to an Afghan man.
-Remembering that Trains Do Arrive On Time Here
It's not just trains though. Everything here arrives on time...or they're supposed to. Planes, trains, automobiles. They're expected to be fueled up, checked out and ready to go when you are. People are flustered or outraged if there's a long delay.
A timetable in a train or bus station in Thailand or Egypt is often outdated or only followed half-heartedly. It's a surprise in those corners of the world if anything takes off on time without some sort of delay.
As such, I tend to be skeptical or schedules and timetables everywhere, though they're far more revered in the States than in the other places I've lived.
-Being Awkwardly Cautious when Crossing the Street
The fact that laws and regulations are regularly enforced in the US makes me extra cautious. That's especially true when I cross the street. Unlike other parts of the world you can't always bolt across in the middle of traffic. For the most part, pedestrians in the States use the cross-walks and drivers stop for them as they move. I'm used to this system now, just as I'm used to bolting in other countries. However, for the first few days that I'm back on US soil, I find myself standing awkwardly on certain sidewalks resisting the urge to suddenly sprint through the gaps between two cars to get to the other side.
-Seeing Impoverished White People
My longest experiences abroad have been in countries where there the majority of the population is not Caucasian. While I'm living there, the only other White Westerners I see are people working abroad like myself, retirees tourists. All of them are okay financially, in contrast to some (not all) but some of the local population. Put more simply, you don't see white people begging or sleeping on the street in Bangkok or Cairo.
In Oakland or DC or Chicago, that's not at all the case. It can be jarring to remember that not everyone is as well off in the West as you might think.
-Understanding Everything that Everyone is Saying
I have smatterings from a variety of languages stuck in my head, from Thai to Arabic. However, I'm only fluent in English. As such, when I'm outside the US I can only understand bits and pieces of conversations that are going on around me in another language.
This all changes when I'm back in the States. Suddenly, everyone around me speaks the same language I do and it can overwhelm my ears.
-The Bluntness of American Speech
Americans are direct and very blunt. This isn't in and of itself a bad thing. However, when you come from Southeast Asia, where hospitality and politeness are extremely important and vital matters are handled in a roundabout way, it can be a little shocking.
-You Can't Really Tell Who is a Foreigner and Who Isn't at First Glance
Americans are an extremely diverse people. A person being of Asian, Hispanic, Middle Eastern, or African descent isn't an accurate gauge for whether someone is or isn't American. This a beautiful aspect f American life and it can also be a challenging one for those re-assimilating after being gone for a while. Even though you're American and even though the internet still makes you feel connected to the States, you do miss certain developments in the culture. And at a first glance, you're expected to know how to act and how to speak all the time.
After almost two years of living in Chiang Mai, I'm saying
goodbye once again. It's been a great and liberating experience for me to come
back to the city I grew up in. I've loved reconnecting with Thailand while also
experiencing a very different side of it through my time in it's education
system. While the job wasn't always easy, I grew from it and for perhaps the
first time in my life I feel a strong sense of confidence and assurance. It
wasn't until my last few days on the job in late January that I realized how
far I had come since those chaotic first few days of trying to reign in the
first graders. It wasn't as I wound up my time at PRC that I saw how well I
could deal and manage thirty eight little kids. As I hugged half a dozen 1/10
kids for the last time, trying my best to soothe a few red and teary eyes, I
saw how much I meant to some of these children.
While it's been hard to say goodbye once again, to the
school, to the kids, to my hometown and the people I've gotten to know here I
don't feel bad about it. I don't feel sadness or reluctance to depart. I'm
certain that it's time for me to go. I'm looking forward to my future studies
and the new frontiers I'll be opening up in the US. I'm also looking towards
what comes after. To teaching jobs in schools across the globe and the
realization that my time back in Thailand has helped lay the foundation for
what comes next.
Not only do I feel hopeful but, more importantly, I feel
liberated. From what, you might ask? From myself.
When I came back to Thailand in 2013 I was returning for two
reasons. First, I wanted to reconnect with my hometown after seven years of
being away. Second, and just as important as the first, I wanted to jump into a
new field 'teaching' and in the process hopefully discover a new sense of
purpose and center my life once again.
It was very important to me to find a new life for myself,
especially after I reluctantly left Egypt due to visa issues and a ton of
personal hardship and heartache.
In sum, I came back to look for something new amongst the
familiar. After such a long passage of time the city was very different. It had
ballooned in size. New malls were everywhere. Areas far out from the center of
the town which had been empty when I left in 06 were now covered with trendy
cafes and upscale shops. Most of the people I had known had departed as well. I
made new friends though, and I made a new life.
Living here as an adult, I dealt with the first time with
adult problems. I paid rent and dealt with traffic and commutes. As an adult,
my life in Chiang Mai was completely different.
Yet the easy going spirit of he city remained the same. The
hospitality and flexibility of Thai culture remained unchanged and there were
just as many if not more open minded ex-pats to help open windows to new
frontiers.
Discovering that the home of yesteryear was gone did not
make me despair. Instead, I reforged myslef with new steel with an old hammer
and anvil.
That in and of itself makes me feel deeply accomplished.
I am now liberated. Now that I know for sure the world I
knew is gone. Now that I know I've been able to build a new house on it's
foundations. I know I can make a home anywhere. Wherever my soul feels like
flying to.
I've lived the ex-pat life and I will continue to live it.
I've called many different places home from New York to Kansas, from Cairo to
Chiang Mai. There is no other way I would choose to live.
In every place I've
gone parts of me are deposited locked away in a metaphorical bank box waiting
to be opened if I ever choose to set foot there again. And yet I'vee taken as
much as I've given. The part you leave creates a vacant space and that hole is
filled in by the place you've been. As such, you also take a part of each world
you visit with you.
I am taking Chiang Mai with me, as I've always done. And I
am so grateful to have been able to come back and love it one more time.
