I’ve always enjoyed traveling. Can’t say as I’ve been to everywhere I’ve wanted to be; but I’ve always been where I was. If that makes sense. Some people travel to see the sights. Explore the landscape of the “new to them” places. I don’t. Never have.

Not that exploring a new place or seeing a new sight isn’t fun; it is, or it can be. But to me, regardless of where I’ve been, everything just pretty much looks the same. I mean, you can travel to see a beautiful lake or mountain, but we have those where I live too. Just slightly different.
Beautiful beaches? Got’em. Fancy trees? Yup. Crystal blue warm water? Yup. Water falls? Easily found in various parts of the globe. Amazing rock formations? Yup. All over. Carefully constructed beautiful architecture? Yup. All sorts of amazing buildings built by people. There’s really no shortage of beautiful landscapes and structures to be seen, regardless of where you are in the world. So, for me, I’m less inclined to have a desire to travel to see that.

For me, the people you meet and experience are by far the most fascinating and interesting thing I’ve encountered on any trip I’ve taken.

I remember being in Mexico and trading the shirt I was wearing for a tattoo. The tattoo shop was a small hole in the wall amongst a bunch of smaller shops. I remember being led out back behind them all through a small door and up some stairs. I had thought at the time that maybe i’d be robbed; but considering I didn’t have much money on me at the time, I wasn’t worried about it. The shop owner spoke broken english. He had one chair in the middle of a 10×10 room. I told him what I was looking for and he gave me a price. Being American, the price he quoted was steep. I understood why he quoted me what he did. I simply told him I didn’t have it and started to leave. Then he said, “I like your shirt”. So I’m like, cut me that tattoo and it’s yours. He agreed. So I got my tattoo.

• 

When I was in Dhaka, there was a river that was used as one of the main shipping waterways in the area. Literally hundreds of boats all squeezed into one little section of the river; piled high with all sorts of consumer goods. As a result, the water was horribly polluted. Black in color and full of floating garbage.

Well, I wanted to go on one of those boats in that river. My guide, “Satar”, had no interest in doing that. He repeatedly attempted to talk me out of it; but I was persistent. Finally he agreed; but when he pointed to one of the larger three story tourist paddle wheel boats, we began to disagree again. I told him I didn’t want to go on one of those. I wanted to go on one of the much smaller, single manned, wooden boats. He wasn’t happy. He said the water was dangerous. Said if we touched it we would get sick. My mind was set. I was getting on one of those boats, with or without him. So, he agreed to set it up. I waited as he talked to the skipper of our small vessel. He came back and said it was “no good”. I asked why. He said the skipper wanted too much. I asked how much he was asking. He told me. I personally didn’t think it was much. So I told him to tell him I’d pay it. Which resulted in Satar going into a tirade about how we were being ripped off. But, we got our boat.

The old man maneuvering the craft didn’t say much. What he did say, I didn’t understand. He just smiled a lot. I just found that interesting. Here was a guy guiding one of the smallest wooden boats on a river that was so polluted you could actually smell the stink of the water, and he was just totally happy. I’d have equated it to the “Taka” I gave him; but like I said, it really wasn’t much. So we sat on that boat and had our boat ride. Satar had a scowl on his face the entire time. He was very concerned about any of the water getting on us. None of which did.

• 

I have more. More stories like this. More faces etched into my memory. People I’ve met, talked to, shared experiences with. I think about them occasionally. Wonder about how they’re doing. Wonder if they think about me. The crazy American they once met.

My next trip will be to New Zealand. Flights booked and arrangements have been made. I’ve been reading about the “Maori” culture and practicing the pronunciation of some of their language. The people I’ve told about going have all asked that I take lots of pictures…and I will do my best. But I truly have no intention of hitting the tourist areas of that country. Don’t get me wrong, if I’m in an area of a beautiful sight, I’ll snap a pic of it. But for me, I’m really looking forward to finding that small piece in time, that sliver of human interaction, that develops into a time delaying conversation, that takes hours and feels like minutes. My thoughts of late have been consumed by the prospect of this.

So if perhaps, I happen to come back missing a kidney, well, you can guarantee I’ll have a story to tell about it; and I’ll have considered it to be well worth it.

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