on travel and space
American friends dancing and making friends with Ethiopian friends.
Many years ago, I attended a party where I met a young man — maybe in his early 30s — who worked in Mission Control at NASA. Naturally, as a complete NASA/space geek myself, I was intrigued. I spent some time asking him about his experience working with his fellow engineers, and what it was like to witness a space launch from “the room where it happens.” Eventually, our conversation moved on, and at some point, we began talking about regular, Earth-bound travel. And I asked him if he’d ever visited Europe.
“I’ve never been out of the country,” he admitted.
“Oh, you should definitely do it,” I gushed. “Travel is one of my favourite things to do.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said.
I was taken aback. “Wait, what? Why?” And then, gently, “Are you afraid of flying?”
“No, not at all,” he said. “I just have no interest.”
At this point, I admit I was a bit dumbfounded, and lost some chill. “Wait … your work is to actually send folks to outer space, and you’re not interested in visiting the rest of our own planet?”
“Right,” he said. “Why would I ever leave America? Everything I’d ever be interested in is here. There’s no need for me to learn about anything else.”
I was young myself, so I probably didn’t handle his answer as well as I hope I’d do now. I hope that now, I’d figure out a way to get curious, and remain open to hearing more about his point of view. But back then, I made polite conversation for a few minutes more and then excused myself. But twenty years later, I admit I’m still gobsmacked by his answer.
And I wonder if he ever changed his mind.
Twenty years later, travel is still one of my favourite things. At last count, I’ve been to just under 40 countries — certainly not an extreme number, but enough that I feel somewhat comfortable considering myself “well-traveled.” Some of these countries were places I visited for pleasure, but many of them were for work; I’ve been lucky enough to have jobs where international travel was part of the gig. And while seeing beautiful rural countryside, bustling cities and glittering oceans is always great, hands down my favourite part of travel is connecting with people. Always.
Dr. Kayla Laserson of the CDC joyfully dancing with a home healthcare worker in Kenya.
A young friend, sharing cooking tips from her family’s new kitchen in Malawi.
Linda Wright, turning the House of Blues into a church at a gospel lunch in New Orleans.
Traditional ceilidh dancing at our niece’s Cornish wedding.
A gardener at Kariwak Village in Tobago.
The reason that I love connecting with people when I travel — even if it’s not for very long — has nothing to do with me being an extrovert. (In fact, I’m deeply introverted.) I love connecting with folks because I’m just generally interested in people and their stories. I love discovering how our cultures might be the same, and how our upbringings might be different. I imagine how I might have been a different person if I had been born in their lands, and into their circumstances — and I imagine how I might be the same. I love discovering similarities in our lives and being open to how learning about their lives can shift my perspectives and worldview.
Ultimately, travel is a reminder of our interconnectedness. It’s evidence … not that we are one, exactly … but that we’re all in this together.
Image courtesy of NASA.
Today, along with a long swath of Mexico, the United States, and Canada, people will look up to the sky to witness a total solar eclipse (and many more will do the same to witness a partial solar eclipse). Houston is not in the zone of totality (the sun will be about 94% obscured), so we’re not going to see the full majesty of this celestial event. (The storm clouds that are predicted today aren’t helping, either.) In some ways, it’s a pity — again, I’m a total space geek, and I’ve never seen a total eclipse — but as you might imagine, trying to find a place to stay in the zone of totality was damned near impossible, and that was when I looked a year ago. But in other ways, it’s still going to be amazing. Because although I don’t doubt that total eclipses are breathtaking, I’m equally struck by the thought of the collective awe that will be happening all over the continent: millions of people marveling at the beautiful universe we’re all a part of.
Because just like travel, the eclipse is a beautiful reminder of our interconnectedness, and that ultimately, we’re all in this together.
Happy Eclipse Day, friends.
a reminder of cadence.