Traveler, Not Tourist: Rule 4

Sorry for not writing in a while — on the one hand, I’ve gotten surprisingly busy working at the internship and applying to more jobs. And on the other hand, I have been learning and re-learning the many lessons of life and introspection that tend to come with moving.

I suppose the main chunk of news is that I still haven’t gotten a job yet. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind I assumed that after that last emotional blog post, once I understood God’s message about waiting on His perfect timing, then I would get hired because I had learned all that he intended for me to learn through this trial. But… no. Still waiting. Still working. Still looking.

It’s funny; in most movies and adventure books, when the heroes have to go through the same drudgery day after day, the story generally tends to skip over it to where stuff actually starts happening to them. Repetition and the everyday ordinary isn’t what we want to see when we escape into the tales of old… but if you really think about it, so many of our heroes often have to plod through redundant days of strife before they could get to the good stuff. David had to go camping to hide out from Saul for ages — and the Israelites, for forty years! Imagine wandering for that long; I’m only antsy a month into this!

But I think another reason why I wasn’t writing was because, as encouraging and even somewhat fulfilling it was to hear how well-received my musings are… it’s not enough. Of course it’s not enough; it’s a blog, not a conversation. It’s not face-to-face. Yes, it allows me to express the thoughts that I’ve been unable to express because of my slight isolation… but I’m meant for better. I’m meant for human interaction and friendship. By God’s immense grace (seriously, I didn’t realize until college just how rare a privilege a childhood like mine really was), I grew up knowing nothing but healthy relationships. So, thankfully, now that I’m experiencing loneliness here, I’m aware enough to see it for what it is and to know what I need to counteract it. Not a boyfriend, not better food or more TV or a nice red wine buzz. Just people.

Hence, we will continue my rules about how to travel well with my personal favorite of the list…

4. Bring a Friend

“It is not good for man to be alone.”

I know I kind of discussed this in an earlier blog post, but I want to expound upon it here. Now before I get started, it’s worth mentioning that not everyone need adhere to this rule; when discussing this revelation with my darling introverted sister Anna, we laughed because she admitted that company was not near the top of her things-to-bring-on-a-trip list. And honestly, until this summer I assumed that I didn’t need other people, either.

According to most personality tests I’ve taken, I’m just about half-introvert and half-extrovert. I can handle crowds without breaking a sweat, but I need some time to myself everyday, too. I was the sort of person who didn’t take the well-worn path or the road less traveled by; I just took the road that would get me to my destination the fastest, and whoever happened to be going that way too was good company for however long it lasted.

But coming to New York, where all of my connections were pretty much only friends of friends… I came to see new meaning in that classic quote from Genesis, “It is not good for man to be alone.” I grew up in a huge family and a huge extended family and even went to a college dorm where I lived with a roommate and shared a bathroom with four other girls and a hall with even more. I’m used to cramping up between people on long hot road trips and tripping over big tangled piles of sleeping bags and long lines for the restroom because I’m one of about five to eight women that came into the restaurant at the same time. Even before I came to New York, I knew the value of that and I loved every minute I spent with other people. Even if we did nothing but sit in the same room together, reading or sleeping or whatever, I was still used to them being there. I was used to sharing. Forget internet; people are the best source of unlimited entertainment. They’re always changing!

Sometimes it’s nice to have all the novel egg-banana pancakes to yourself. To choose your own movie without having to hear groans or refusal from peers who don’t want to see it. To curl up by yourself with no pressure to go out or do anything when all you want is a little snooze.

But you can’t tell a stranger how wonderful that peach you bought for only 99 cents was and expect them to understand the fun of watching Looney Tunes and Blazing Saddles in the park with your fingers all sticky.

You can’t remind them about that one book on the set of CNN that’s been permanently placed upside-down on the shelf if they didn’t see it for themselves.

You can’t gush about the father and daughter that came into Starbucks and fell fast asleep after a long day out in the city unless you could explain just how worn out these two adorable strangers were.

You can’t laugh about the time you set up camp in the kitchen to work because the wireless stopped reaching the rest of the apartment for a weekend.

"Restaurant and Social Club for Explorers and Mad Scientists."
Notice the skeletons standing on the roof.

You can’t crack a joke at the funny club you found or squeal in delight at the sight of stuffed Ninja Turtles in the window of a Build-A-Bear shop.

You can’t see your own face light up with delight at your first Broadway show, Holler If You Hear Me.

Or when the subway turns the corner and Coney Island comes into view for the first time and you get to try your first famous Coney Island hot dog.

You can’t gush to someone else about your picnic on Roosevelt Island and know they can fully appreciate it when you say just how fresh and sweet the raspberries were, or how great it was when you tried eating them with fresh-baked brownies. They won’t laugh the same way as you when you talk about running off the island to escape a coming rainstorm.

Wherever I go, whatever I do with my life… in the future, all I know is that I want to do it with somebody by my side. Forget “soul mate” for now; that will happen in its own good time. I want “soul companions.” Brothers and sisters that I’ll get to learn about and serve and laugh alongside and cry with.

If life is like a box of chocolates, what fun is it if you can’t share them?

Traveler, Not Tourist: Rule 3

3. Pack Light

I keep all I own in a pack

And have neither excess nor lack

For when on the road

I must carry my load

and have learned it’s not worth the sore back.

As anyone can attest, whether traveling or not you tend to accumulate more stuff over the course of your life. If you don’t believe me, you probably just haven’t cleaned out your closet lately. I learned this fact about myself over and over, every time my family packed up and moved houses or when I packed up to head for college (or when I packed up and came home from college).

Thankfully, during the year that I graduated from high school, I got to go and listen to the incredible message of Shane Claiborne at the Urbana Conference. Shane is more or less a modern Ghandi in that he’s given up nearly all his material possessions and lives off the bare minimum in order to serve God. It’s a tall order, to be sure, but his story has stuck with me over the years and really impacted the way I view my possessions.

So every now and then, especially after any sort of shopping spree, I started to go through my belongings and really gauge how important they were to me. That doesn’t mean I threw out everything based purely on utility (I still have random stuff like a model ship and a jade elephant that have nothing but decorative or sentimental value), but I did everything in my power to rid myself of a little excess here and there. And by ‘rid’ I mean gave to other people that might actually use the things I gave up: I used Goodwill, family, friends, and a fantastic little college invention that our dorms had called ‘Free Tables’ where excess possessions were left for whomever desired them (seriously, some of the best clothing in my wardrobe came from Free Tables — not to mention probably $100 worth of laundry detergent).

Because I really don’t need multiple types of one thing; in the end I always end up picking favorites anyway. Jeans, iPods, snow shoes, whatever. If I haven’t worn or used something in over six months, I keep an eye on it. If another six months go by and I still haven’t touched it, then it’s time to say goodbye. If I’ve done just fine without it for a year, I can easily scrape by if one day I ever actually ‘need’ it (or something like it, which is usually what I end up using).

This little practice (I suppose you could call it ‘purging’) was what got me through college without driving myself or my family crazy. Even after accumulating more stuff over the course of a college year, I could still pretty much fit everything that I owned into a single vehicle whenever it was time to pack up my life again. (Of course, after I got a free couch the whole ‘single-vehicle’ thing wasn’t always an option, but you get my point.)

So what does all of this have to do with traveling? Well, just as I narrowed down my needs and favorites little by little, so too can you learn the practice of packing lightly. All you have to do is challenge yourself to pack at least one less item than you did last time. Went to the beach with two pairs of flip-flops last time — one fancy and one casual? Cut it down to one pair. Brought a pint-sized bottle of shampoo for the last weekend getaway? Buy a travel-sized bottle, or an empty one that you can fill yourself. Better yet, use a two-in-one shampoo-conditioner just on the trip (it’s not like it’s going to matter if your hair is slightly greasier just for the trip; traveling is always grimy anyway). Brought an iPod and a kindle and a laptop on the previous flight? Leave one out this time.

Because there are honestly two ways of packing: the first is to say, “I might need this.” But the second says, “How bad would it be if I needed this, but had left it behind?”

Some trips might require an umbrella, like if you’re staying in a hotel on a business trip. But if you’re just hanging out with family for a casual weekend, who cares if you get wet some afternoon on your way through a parking lot?

I’m most guilty when it comes to packing for long plane or car rides, because I always think I might want to read that book or draw that picture or write that story. But honestly, most of those activities tend to make me queasy and I end up either sleeping, listening to music, or maybe fiddling around on my laptop. So books no longer go into my carry-on — if they make it on the trip at all. In fact, I’ve honestly stopped packing even my sketchbook on trips most of the time, because I’ve gone on many journeys where I didn’t end up using it. And should the mood to draw actually take me, chances are wherever I’m going I can find paper.

And do you know what happens when I stop packing all those random sources of diversion — my movies and my books and my phone games and my deck of cards? I end up seeking entertainment in… get this… my surroundings. I end up (gasp) talking to people, or (the horror) enjoying the scenery, or just spending hours on end thinking (no, please, anything but that!). (And take note: the more people you’re going to be around on your trip, the lighter you can pack. People are the greatest source of entertainment in and of themselves.)

I’m not saying this to mock those of you who turn to digital amusement — sometimes on a long plane ride, all my fried body and mind can handle are the bright colors and delightful “ping”s of Candy Crush on my iPhone. But my point is that when we human beings encounter lack, we adapt and make due. We find some alternative to our first course of action when said first course of action is made impossible.

And you know, sometimes that long ride or that summer afternoon doesn’t end up as nice as it could have been if we’d brought that book or that puzzle or that DVD. But other times, we’re delightfully surprised to find that it’s even better. Sometimes we become friends with a total stranger that was sitting next to us on that plane… or in our boredom we may turn to our loved ones for conversation, and end up learning a new card game — or better yet, inventing a new card game. Maybe we’ll hear the deep stories of their past… or maybe we’ll tell them ours. Maybe we’ll spot a bear lumbering by the highway while everyone around us battles the next level of Angry Birds. Maybe we’ll think up the next great American novel.

Sometimes that extra possession is worth a sore back… but some times, when we leave it behind we can get by without hardly thinking about it, and even make new memories in the process.

BACKSTORY: (As if 90% of the above post wasn’t already a backstory in and of itself…) Last year just after the fourth of July, I ended up taking a last-minute trip to Illinois for the weekend to be with my dying grandfather and family. The whole story is an incredible one in and of itself, but a funny little side-story to go with it is about what I packed for that trip.

You see, at the time I was traveling with a mobile day-camp for kids (think Vacation Bible School on wheels. And steroids). As such, I was already touring the American south for the summer, with little more than a heavy-duty plastic trunk and a backpack stuffed to near-bursting. I hadn’t started the trip with too much to carry, but as I said before — you travel, you accumulate. And I was accumulating plenty. So when I packed for the weekend, I decided to drop off whatever I didn’t desperately need with my family. But I also had been living so light that I realized I would only be gone for about two days, and I really wouldn’t need gobs of entertainment on the plane or at my grandparents’ house.

So I showed up in Illinois with nothing but a draw-string backpack and a dinky little cardboard box [half of its contents being objects that I wouldn’t even be taking back with me]. Talk about comedic — it took some people about three repeats of “Where’s your luggage? Whaddo you mean that’s all you brought?” before it sank in that I hadn’t brought an actual backpack or suitcase.

This year I got to repeat that same light-packing challenge when I went to a friend’s home for the Fourth of July weekend. I didn’t have a cardboard box this time, but I did manage to fit everything I needed in that same little drawstring bag and a nice sturdy satchel.

So what’s my bare-minimum-packing-challenge-end-goal? I’m not sure. I suppose I would one day like to hike the Camino de Santiago in Spain, which is basically a pilgrimage across the entire country (though it will be absolutely no fun by myself, so I’m hoping for a grand merry band of loved ones to join me on the trek).

But as for my daily trips and packings of the now, I’m not sure when I’ll reach ‘peak-minimalism’. I feel like I can’t pursue the challenge much further without foregoing essentials like toothpaste… but don’t worry, I won’t get that crazy.

Traveler, Not Tourist: Rule 2

2. GET LOST

Not all who wander are lost.

Don’t get me wrong: if you’re on a tight schedule and have to get somewhere quickly, by all means make the map your bible for a day. But if your afternoon’s not packed and you’re vaguely familiar with the area, give yourself some margin and a destination and then set out and see if you can find it after only that preliminary examination of the directions.

It’s great exercise; it’s a great cure for boredom; it’s a great bonding experience with whomever accompanies you; you’ll (hopefully) learn a little more about how to navigate the area; and you’ll usually end up discovering an amazing park, cafe, or urban rarity that you may not have run into otherwise (like in Rule 1). Traveling is about discovery, and wandering is a great way to discover new things: children from a young age learn via wandering. Hobbies stem from wandering. And wandering will take you a step closer to feeling like a native, because you’ll walk away with knowledge about some random aspect of that area that none of the other tourists (or even natives) might know, either!

BACKSTORY: Wandering has always been my cup of tea once I get the hang of a new place. I am a bit directionally challenged, so I tend to rely on others (or maps) so that I don’t end up four miles from my intended destination (those closest to me will know how true that is— I once got lost while driving to my college from home… after years of regularly driving there). But after getting introduced to someplace new and seeing everything that I knew I’ve wanted to see, it’s great to wander off the beaten path and just stroll along, finding sights that I didn’t even know were there before.

Most recently, I had some time to kill and walked through lots of Southern Manhattan. Not only did I find the section of town where you can buy your heart’s desire of fur coats (Cruella DeVille would have been proud), but I even ran into some places where I’d already been on my original tour (including that Bleecker Street pizza)!

"Eleventh and Bleecker?" (sniff, sniff) "Nope, this is only Ninth Street!.. Get it?"
- Michaelangelo
The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Don't ask me how I even remembered that quote. I really couldn't tell you...

And last weekend, after seeing a show near Times Square right off Broadway, I was heading home and realized it would be pretty late for dinner by the time I’d arrive at the apartment. So I glanced around, wandered into a hole-in-the-wall pizza place, asked the server which pizza he’d recommend, and voila! Giant pizza, greasy paper bag, and a Friday evening in Times Square. Only a run-in with some ninja turtles could have made that night any better.

Traveler, Not Tourist: Rule 1

I realized that in my last post, I forgot to mention a great development that’s happened within my last week here in NYC: giving directions! I went from taking daily U-turns to now helping people find a certain avenue or telling them how to get to a landmark via which subway line! One my favorite stories about my sister in Europe was that when she was studying in France, two [French] vacationers asked her for directions, which she was able to give. And so, inspired by my own accomplishments as well as the exciting journeys of multiple relatives in Europe, I thought I would compile a list of what I consider my cardinal rules of traveling. But, since this list tends to grow and develop, I think I’ll post one rule at a time. They're pretty long rules, anyway.

Please note: the word ‘guidebook’ from here on out is a general category meant to include paper, internet, and app forms of direction. Please know — I have nothing against guidebooks. When I arrive in a new place, my travel apps and Google maps are never out of arm’s reach for my first week or so. But they should be used as backups. Why, you may wonder? Well I’m glad you asked…

1. KNOW A LOCAL.

Guidebooks tell tourists which places are popular, but locals tell travelers which places are special.

This rule is the absolute rule above all rules if you want to be a traveler and not a tourist. It doesn’t matter if you’re going to the middle of Europe or a backwash town in Louisiana; it doesn't matter if you’re going in a group or on your own; it doesn't matter if they’re a friend of a friend of a cousin of a friend’s cousin. Know a local.

Sometimes you don’t know anyone in a city you’re going to visit. It happens. But if you do your best to connect with someone through anyone you know, it’ll be worth it. (Though please do so through people you trust, not random newspaper ads or websites like Craigslist! I could write a whole post on how much the word of a friend [or lack thereof] can influence our perception of others!) And if you still absolutely can’t connect with a local beforehand, don’t be afraid to ask opinions of the people that you meet once you’re there! Sometimes even the waiters may be able to recommend the best dishes to you.

BACKSTORY: I first realized how important local knowledge is when traveling to visit family in Florida. Now I won’t spoil the specifics on the internet here (come to me and I’ll spill the beans and gush about this place in person), but my favorite restaurant in the entire world is located in that town. And it was hidden for years, because the only way to find it was to drive through a neighborhood. How many restaurants have you ever gone to that were in the suburbs!?

Had we visited the city without knowing anyone there, we never would have known about that place… but once you pass the houses, suddenly there’s a wharf in front of you… the sunset is shining on the bay, boats are bringing in their daily catch on the docks, and an open-air, Steve-Irwin-esque eatery is serving up a heaven-sent plethora of aquatic delicacies. No trip to Florida is complete for me until I get to go there.

So all that to say, if you’re on famous-for-its-pizzas Bleecker Street and you want a legitimate slice of New York greatness… I know just the place, no bigger than a train car where they serve up slices as big as your head on paper plates.