Traveling blithly

In about 9 hours, I will embark on a trip down to Merida, Mexico (http://www.yucatantoday.com/index.php). I’ve never been to Mexico. It’s a week long trip, with the Heartland Global Health Consortium. The best part about the trip is that I’m going with one of my best friends from Central, so I’m looking forward to it. But, as I prepare for the trip (packing the 7 shirts etc that are closest at hand), I also find myself pondering the nature and manner of my trip.

My friend checked out Spanish lesson CDs from the library. She’s prepping for the trip. I’ve pretty much blown off any preparation. On one hand, I’d like to say that’s not typical, wanting to think of myself as more worldly, but then again, I suspect that it is rather typical of me. I head off into the world rather blithely. I’ve never really worried too much about traveling, unlike my mother who prepares her will even for small roadtrips. I suspect that part of this comes from the fact that I feel incredibly comfortable traveling and am probably more at home at airports. Airports have structures and rules and traveling is always an adventure, which brings twists and turns that one can never anticipate. Those two contradictory realities provide my sense of security.

My favorite memory is heading off to Kenya for my master’s research. The plan was that after arriving at the Nairobi airport, I would make my way to the Nairobi main post office and research associates would meet me there and take me to Kampi ya Samaki. No clue who would pick me up, no clue as to how to contact them. Last night, I watched “Slumdog Millionaire” and was struck by the scene where Jamal waits for his girl at the train station – a place just awash with thousands of people constantly moving and milling. I suspect that’s what the Nairobi main post office would have been like.

I don’t know – we never got that far. I got to the airport at midnight, changed money, caught a taxi to the Fairfield (recommended to me by other grad students at the University of Toronto) and settled in for the night. Right after getting into bed, the phone rang (what – who’d call me here? At this time of the night?). I got dressed and went downstairs, where I met the cousins of Margaret who were tasked with picking me up. They’d missed me at the airport and just started checking likely hotels.

This summer, I traveled to Turkey. Since I’m familiar with Istanbul and my friend there had sent me an email stating that I would be picked up at the airport, I hadn’t bothered to print out any of the information of where I’d be staying or his contact info. At the airport, no one was there. I circled around, checking out all the people with signs. No one. I had a nice chat with a guy holding a sign whose person wasn’t showing up. So, while I was at home at the Istanbul Airport, I had become too comfortable – normally I’d have taken the subway to Yeni Bosnia and then the bus to Beykent and been home. But after 6 years gone, I had no home there. And as it turns out, the Cakmakli bus didn’t run anymore, so it’s good I didn’t try that.

As luck would have it, I had just invested in an international cell phone (Estonian!!) and had gotten some phone numbers of friends via facebook. I texted those I thought most likely to know the organizers of the conference and then proceeded to hang at the airport until the situation resolved itself (Istanbul traffic).

But back to the point –I’m about to head to a country I’ve never been. I don’t speak the language and I really have no idea what to expect. I’ve done no research about the culture or the customs (well, okay, I did look at that website at the top of the blog). To be honest, if I step back and reflect upon this, it is rather disgraceful. It reeks of the attitudes I despise in the stereotypical American tourist. And yet here I am, not bothered...

The language barrier isn’t really too worrying – I know I have people in my group that speak Spanish. I’ve got some basics from Ellie’s CDs, and yet listening to Ellie’s CDs I also realized that likely I would mix Turkish in with any attempts to speak a foreign language. Trying to get by on what I have should be interesting, but I don’t feel bad about my not knowing Spanish, since I do have the ability to communicate with over 1/5 of the earth’s population (Hindi/Urdu gets you far these days, what with desi population growth rates).

Central’s contact in Merida has set up meetings for us as well as trip to Chichen Itza (ruins!! I love visiting archeological ruins). Most of what I need to know I will pick up while I’m there. I’ll be fascinated; I’ll take gobs of pictures; I’ll recount the facts I remember to innocent bystanders henceforth.

So what makes a global traveler? How does one prepare for new encounters? Or does one prepare at all, instead just being open to the experience? How much should one know before heading off? Where does preparation begin and where does experience?

All I know is that it will be another leg in the journey of my life…and that regardless of what happens, my life will be enriched by the experiences..