What World Travel Should Teach You

Life Lessons from Time Spent Circling the Globe

Physically making your way around the Earth these days obviously isn't the monumental accomplishment of centuries past, although for many, it is merely a fantasy. If you have the money and the passport, you could do it rather quickly. However, spending months out in multiple countries and continents on a tight budget is an experience that should teach or reinforce several powerful human qualities.
 
Humility
Being out in the world, if you're not an idiot, teaches one of travel's primary lessons - you are a very small part of a very big place that has a history and diversity that you may never fully comprehend. As a foreigner, you hopefully learn very quickly that life does not always go as you believe it should. There are barriers, injustices, and fundamental differences. Certainly this scares a lot of people out of never venturing out, but if you stick it out, you learn that there is a whole intricate world that will function with or without you.

Spontaneity
You can have the best travel plan, but if you are out in strange lands long enough, something will go wrong... or just not as you had intended. Travel is all about experiencing new things, and one of which is that you are not always in control. It could be that a storm cancelled your ferry or perhaps a restaurant closed for a private event; there are so many variables out there that you begin to learn that an unforeseen option is sometimes crucially better than what you had in mind in the first place.

Assertiveness
As a child you were likely taught to wait your turn and to be polite. There are a lot of places in this world where (unfortunately) those are seen as weeknesses or maybe just not as highly prized. People in some other places don't do lines (or queues, not the drug reference). I can't count the number of times someone stepped ahead of me to get a ticket or a sandwich. Not to advise one eschew all manners of polite society to look out for number one, but often in other countries you have to be a more active participant in securing your desired destiny. Just watch your pockets, and don't forget to smile.

Kindness
Remember how I told you things may go wrong? For every misfortune or bad actor out there, there is some local who will surprise you with a favor that you had no right to expect. I have had families in the Philippines feed and house me for a night, and I had a restaurant owner treat me to a multi-course meal and wine in Barolo, Italy. I could write a book on the kindnesses of strangers while traveling. You were probably also taught as a child that you should be kind, but world travel instills in you why you owe it.


Timeliness
Try showing up to the train station just one minute too late in some circumstances, and you may actually experience true regret. You are dependent on so much while traveling that being late can really, really ruin a day (or more). Of course, if you are in the Philippines, you may have more of a cushion (we'll discuss "Filipino time" another day), but in other places time is not so forgiving; tardiness can cost you a lot of money or some great opportunities.

Flexibility
More than the ability to change plans on the fly, being the foreigner requires the mental fortitude to accept different ways of approaching life. Immersing yourself in a culture, you will open your mind to realization that people have different traditions, expectations, values, and histories. The distinction between right and wrong or what is appropriate may have shifted, and you will have to adjust. In the end you don't have to betray your conscience, but rather gain an understanding and appreciation for disparate points of view.
  
Curiosity
One question I get asked a lot is, "where are you traveling next?" To the questioner, you may just be checking off boxes on your bucket list, but a true world traveler comes to realize that each new discovery brings answers, yet further questions emerge. Even revisiting the same destination can continue to be revealing if you have the curiosity to seek new truths. A journey with a curious mind is an exploration.
 
Patience
There's a lot of waiting in travel, even from day one getting through the airport. You will be tested. If assertiveness gets you what you want, patience is the virtue that allows you to measure the value of what you want. There are only so many Instagrammable moments in travel; the rest is what is required to get you the opportunities.

Appreciation
My earliest international travel was to Mexico, and one of my first lessons seeing poverty for the first time was that not everybody has what I have. Driving through the city in India, I saw families sleeping on the center divider between traffic. In Manila, I have seen children picking through garbage for rotting foods. Unfortunately, this planet has millions of people who do not even have basic needs met. Many face loss and deprivation that is impossible to fathom. Seeing this as a traveler makes you appreciate what you have. Realizing there may be nothing you can do to change it makes you appreciate that life does have the capacity to endure. On the other hand, discovering you can actually act and participate in good in the world lets you truly appreciate the concept of hope.
 
Purpose
People find purpose in other people and some greater good. Certainly you can do that in your own neighborhood, and you don't need to commit to a year living out of your backpack to find it. However, in this seemingly ever-increasingly self-centered world, it is often difficult to hear your true calling amidst a routine that tends to take a life of its own. On my first international disaster response in Peru with what is now All Hands and Hearts - Smart Response, I used my last day to document the real devastation of the horrible earthquake that brought us there, and then I cooked an Italian dinner for my fellow volunteers back at base - about seventy very hungry young workers. I have fed people professionally since 1993, but this moment was an opening to the possibilities of feeding people as a means to recovery or development aid. Two years later, I urged my own chef Jose Andres to go feed people in Haiti after their earthquake, and he went on to found World Central Kitchen, that does primarily what I had imagined. I later volunteered with them briefly in Puerto Rico and Indonesia, but have turned my focus to reaching out in other ways, mainly in the Philippines. World travel helps bring the "how" to your "why."

Pisco Puro - After the Earthquake

I cannot say with any real experience what an actual war zone looks like. I cannot know the devastation involved with losing a home in mere minutes. I will never completely know how the lives of the people of Pisco, Peru were forever changed by an earthquake that struck three months ago. Many people are awestruck with events from the news, and it is in our human nature to feel empathy. As time passes, new events take place, and the old events are soon forgotten. We like to think that people eventually do get their lives back, and surely happy endings follow even in our minds' absence. Perhaps that is a forced illusion. There are however certain observations I can make from my visit to Pisco with certainty.
Pisco, today, looks like a scene from a war movie. Homes of brick and mud have been bombarded by mother nature; rubble is everywhere - streets through entire blocks are unsuitable for travel. Dust of what used to be still fills the air and unstable structures are all around. A significant part of this town has been destroyed... and remains that way today.


We worked with a man, roughly eighty years old. Usually, we do not discover the names of the people for whom we labor. We come, we move rocks and bricks, we take down broken walls, and we move on to the next job. This man was Juan Mayori. He had been living in his home for thirty years, and in three minutes it was gone. Yet he put on a smile - and his gloves and hat - and helped us labor away. He seemed to have a jovial attitude and was happy to have us there, but afterwards a photo reveals the suffering he endures for a life forever changed. He, like thousands of others, will sleep in a tent tonight provided by the UN on the plot of land he used to know as home.
I got the feeling from walking the town one day, taking a visual survey to attempt a grasp of the situation in Pisco, that although my time there (and that of my team) was temporary, this situation of loss, uncertainty, and poverty would persist long into the future. Huge piles of bricks and debris lined the streets. Structures were uninhabitable and, in some cases, waiting to fall. Children were urinating in the streets in plain sight, because they had nowhere else to go. A beach side plaza, I imagined once a tourist draw and picturesque place for a stroll or to steal a kiss, was decimated and reduced to an eyesore of broken stone. Filthy unkept dogs roamed the streets as if they were taking over, and there was nothing the humans could do about it. A fantastic beach of silver sand, warm sun, and a cool breeze was eerily empty. Military men and women patrolled the streets in camouflaged fatigues with machine guns to enforce some sort of tranquil order. Remnants of books, toys, and undergarments were strewn about the rocks and dirt that used to shelter them.



One positive thing I did observe in this huge mess was hope. The people of Pisco, though weathered, had not lost their smiles. Many not only posed for photos, but asked for their photos to be taken. Where once stood a large church at the Plaza de Armas was a large tent set up for Sunday service; and Sunday there was standing room only for a homily about faith and hope in the face of such destruction. The central marketplace was fully functioning and buzzing with a bounty of fresh produce as well as imported goods to be sold. The poorer parts of town had set up 'ollas comunales', or community pots, so they could pool their resources and feed each other. Children were back in school, many with new donated backpacks and clean uniforms. Shops were open for business, even if only little temporary light wooden shacks. The government provided large trucks to go through town to fill barrels and buckets with fresh water. Locals, in thanks, brought my fellow volunteers and me Coca Cola and crackers with jam in the middle of our arduous workday. Most heartening though, were the smiles and hellos and horns honking at us as we wearily strolled back to base through the streets after a hard day's labor. I dared think they were impressed that strangers from several continents cared to come to their small part of the world to give them a chance at a new life.

Pisco is down, but not out. They seem to derive strength, peace, and happiness from each other, from hope, from faith, and from young white people in gray t-shirts pushing wheel barrels through the streets speaking in the language of the movies. They survive. It will be a long time before this city is rebuilt, but I have seen on the faces of many that, although bricks may have shaken and crumbled, there is a much greater foundation than the forced illusion of a happy ending. I hope their smiles outlast our empathy, and their faith shows them the way to a reconstructed future stronger than any earthquake. These people of Pisco do face a battle, though not of bullets, bombs, or ideologies. In any battle there is the essential struggle not only to survive, but to overcome. Fortunately, as I learned at a free concert in the plaza one night, even the youngest among the citzens of this place know the words, "si, se puede!" Yes, it can be done.

Mangiamo Gringos!

* Note to self - When cooking rocoto peppers in Peru and de-seeding them yourself, wear gloves, do not touch your face, and do not let the juice squirt in your eye when slicing.

Yes, I have been cooking again. No, I do not have full use of my hands, due to the extra-extra-extra-hot little black seeds inside. It feels about on par with the pain I felt when Tom gave me niacin pills that make you feel like your whole body is on fire... or when I was injected with poison by that sea urchin in Maui. I remember the remedy for that, but even though I have been working with these people in Pisco for several days, I am still a little bashful about asking anyone to pee on my hands. (There was no cure for the niacin thing except time.) Rocoto peppers look similar to red bell peppers, only spicier, and their seeds are little black balls of fire often used in ceviche, but sparingly. So what was I doing, you ask. Well, today was my last day on the job in Pisco, so of course I took the afternoon off of rubble duty to cook an Italian feast for my coworkers. (I know, there are no rocotos in Italy, but give me a break.) I have cooked family meal before at Buca di Beppo, but that was easy. Today, it was dinner for 60-70 tired workers from more than 10 different countries with big appetites. I had three big pots, no oven, and two dull chef knives. Here was our menu:

Bruschetta with tomatoes, basil, and garlic
Fagiolini Limone (green beans with fresh lime juice)
Penne Marinara
Penne with butter and fresh cheese
Chorizo with rocoto, onions, and garlic

This was my first time cooking with two French sous chefs! Actually, they do not cook, but were happy to cut my tomatoes for me. It was a nice dinner, AND, AND... READY BY 6:30! If I have ever cooked for you, you realize what a feat that is.

Stay tuned for my Pisco wrap-up when I get my photos back. I really have only touched the surface of this situation, but I wanted my visual aids to assist. Now off to find some sort of ointment... tsssssssssssssssssss!

Rediscovering Peru

Today is a near-perfect day in Lima, Peru. I arrived late last night with an immediate shock to my confidence in that Pablo was nowhere to be found at the arrival gate at the airport. If you are not familiar with my travel habits, I tend to leave certain things to chance while preparing immensely for other situations. For instance, I have my own canned pumpkin and cranberries for my Lima Thanksgiving I plan to cook, two cell phones, and of course my waiter´s corkscrew (I won´t expose any other details, because, well that would be stupid). On the other hand, Pablo (my driver prone to 80s and 90s rock) was an integral piece off the puzzle in that I had no contact information for my gracious host family (other than him) and potentially no ride from this airport where swarms of people congregate - even at close to midnight - to offer me a ride (some legitimately, some otherwise). But, really, what is travel if not a tightrope walk? Luckily, I had stored his cell number, and we were listening to Aerosmith in no time.

The Salazars were up to greet me, and I informed them that my first full meal should include ceviche... and it certainly did. This afternoon, we went to El Villano. Driving in Lima is always an adventure - little overcrowded buses called combis whiz by looking like passengers are going to fly out at any time, the underabundance of traffic lights and signs, and today in a small street close to the restaurant, we drove by kids performing a public stoning. The victim seemed to be getting away on foot, but what upset me even more was the one boy with the machete. Luckily they had no problem with us driving through their makeshift public execution site. Ceviche sure was good!