RHYS BOWEN: The other day they posted a list on Facebook of the twenty best countries to live in. The USA was not in that top twenty. This created a deluge of comments saying there was no place better than the good old US of A. Land of the free. Home of the brave.
Then responses to these comments. I prefer a place which respects women’s rights and nobody carries a gun. The US is fine if you don’t get sick. I value my free health care. My maternity leave. My free university and child care etc etc.
Of course there are plenty of good things about living in the US. I have chosen to live here, after all. But I am one of the lucky ones who has a house and health care and live in an area with no gun violence. The sad thing is that most of these people who think the USA is the best place to live have never lived anywhere else and probably never traveled anywhere else. I read that only 10 percent of people in the US have a passport. It’s hard because we are so far from the rest of the world except Canada and Mexico. It takes money and time to go to Europe or Asia and to see how other people live. And experiencing other people’s lives is essential to the removal of prejudice and to global harmony.
I look back over my own life of travel and think how the amazing experiences have formed me as a person. Traveling around Greece for 3 months with my best friend, being invited into strangers’ homes and fed. Sitting at outside tables, talking and laughing with them.
I was trying to come up with one experience that exemplifies travel and I think I’ll use Kashmir. We were driving through high meadows where nomads grazed their flocks. Children guarded the goats. As we passed, little girls pulled their headscarves across their faces and turned away, shielding themselves from us. We stopped. I got out. The children retreated. There was a stream fast flowing from the mountains with round white pebbles on its banks. I sat on the bank, took one of the pebbles, took out a Sharpie and drew a face on it. Then I put the pebble down near me, and started on another one. Soon the bravest boys drew near. I finished another face and handed it to a boy. He grinned delightedly. Suddenly I was surrounded. All the children standing and squatting close to me, no headscarves hiding faces, holding out hands for one of the rocks. They laughed and chattered and we communicated with expressions and hands. I had to keep going until all of the children had a rock with their face on it. When we had to leave they followed me to the car, the little girls hanging onto my jacket. I shook hands with boys. Kissed girls. And off we went.
I regret that I can't find the photos John took of us. It was back in 1975 and are probably on a thumb drive somewhere, or even in an envelope of negatives. If only travelers like me could go through Afghanistan or Pakistan think how perceptions could change. If we could see each other as friends and not threats.. So do you have a transforming travel experience you can share?
