I can never decide whether or not I would call myself an experienced traveler. On one hand, I’ve spent more than more than 14 months in three different home stays in Mali and Senegal, something that has no doubt given me a unique view of the world. A great deal of people only know what Mali is when you mention Timbuktu. Up until the time I went to Mali, I didn’t even know Timbuktu was a real place.
On the other hand, I haven’t even been to Europe once. I haven’t seen 1% of what the average traveling American considers a must-see. I have no experience at all traveling outside of the third world (except for my travels within the U.S.). Until last semester, I had no experience traveling with other Americans. So in many ways, I am very strangely inexperienced.
What my travels have mainly taught me is that expectations are bad. They hurt you. Since my year in Mali in 2006, I have tried not to have them. This development has not been all good – it makes me reluctant to read anything other than essential information about where I’m going. I buy guidebooks but subsequently avoid them. I rarely ask questions to people who have gone before who may help me. It is not arrogance or anything; I know I could use help. But I also know that help can’t really prepare me. I prepare what I can, but I purposefully try not to prepare my mind. I have learned that the best way to prepare it is to smooth it out, clear it. I meditate on who I am, try to get a basic, secure idea of that and to remove from my mind all secure ideas of anything else at all.
It makes me feel strange, and it makes it hard for me to talk to other people about preparations and fears. But this is what I have learned. Flexibility and adaptability does not come from preparation. It comes only from the tools of our intuition. Now it’s on to Amman. My French won’t help me, my ability to make tea like an African won’t help me. All that I have is the flexibility of my mind. I will breathe away my worries, open my eyes, and go.
