The Further You Travel The Less You Know

American writer and composer Paul Bowles used to insist on the distinction between a "tourist" and a "traveler." Bowles lived for more than half a century in Tangier, Morocco, just across the Strait (of Gibralter) from Europe, where lots of people pass through. We had cause to ponder this distinction recently when we hosted a couple of young backpackers we had met in Ecuador. They were personable and intelligent but absolutely incurious about anything except their own travel trajectory.

Though my wife and I have lived and worked in and written about Bolivia for the past three years, our visitors did not ask us any questions except where to catch a bus or how to book a tour. They have already been "on the road" for more than a year in dozens of countries, but it's not clear what they found in any of those places beyond exotic backdrops for their photographs of themselves.

Of course, it's not where you go or how long you spend there that makes for the richest experience, it's how open you are to wherever you happen to be. As the song says: "Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see." We observe the world through the lenses of our own personalities and predispositions. We see what we are able to see.

In the case of many young travelers, what they see is themselves and each other, wracking up countries and sites like notches in their belts or trophies on their walls, blogging all the way. When they meet up with other travelers they trade travel tips and stories. They are not really able to Be Here Now. Passing through becomes the point. Which is not altogether pointless.

Something might happen somewhere to pull a self-absorbed our of himself or herself. For instance, Three Cups of Tea is a book about an American kid who went to climb K-2 and got lost on his way down and ended up dedicating his life to building schools in the Pakistani Himalayas. But this is exceptional. Most backpackers just rack up their list of destinations then go home and resume their acquisitive lives. They are tourists, unlike the travelers who are able to engage the people and places they encounter at some deeper level of being.

Not everyone can learn from travel, but some can and do. Some travelers are capable of outgrowing their own superficiality. After first encountering themselves in the world, they are perhaps then able to apprehend that world beyond their infantile horizon. So I do not pity or despise short-sighted backpackers. Rather, I am excited that perhaps they may put themselves in the way of accidental knowledge, beckoning from some unexpected bump along the highway of life, that might awaken them in spite of themselves, that might allow them finally to see.