Can you guess which one is me?
(Kenya, 1988)

The Christian philosopher Saint Augustine once said, "The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page." I could not agree more.

Other Worlds
Paris (1982); Jamaica (1983); Greece (1985)

For me, traveling is the only way to keep my perspective on the ephemeral obsessions of the culture I occupy. As a child, my notion of traveling was a weekend in the Catskills or an afternoon with relatives in New Jersey. I was never on an airplane prior to age 21. New York City, where I was raised, is filled with pockets of foreign subculture and my father and mother are natives of Poland and what was then Czechoslovakia, respectively, so it seems only fitting that I would ultimately develop an interest in travel abroad.

Savanna Sojourn (Kenya, 1988)
With falcon and bat; Elephant lookout post; With snake in the grass

I left the U.S. for the first time in 1982, when I backpacked around Europe for a summer after graduating from law school. I went to England, France, Germany, Italy and the Netherlands -- a "greatest hits" tour of Western Civilization. I enjoyed the immersion in history, architecture, art and food. When I go to a foreign country I try to learn as much as possible about that country's political and cultural past, both in preparation for my trip and while in the country from museums and talks with locals. My 1982 summer allowed me to engage in this process for five countries and convinced me that I would travel extensively in my life.

Over There (Europe, 1988)
Colonizing London; Chic & elegant in Munich; Tower power in Paris; Costa Del Sol in Spain

From June 1988 to September 1989 I took time off from work and traveled through Africa, the Middle East and Europe again, followed by a 30,000-mile driving jaunt around the U.S., Mexico and Canada. Other separate trips have taken me to Greece, Jamaica, Mexico (again), Canada (many times), Turkey and Puerto Rico.

Miles To Go Before I Sleep
Jerusalem, Israel (1988); Pompeii, Italy (1988); Montreal, Canada (1989)

As I've said, the most important part of traveling, for me, is gaining a perspective on the things that Americans, and I as a middle class American, consider necessities or take for granted. My last night in New York in 1988, I recall hearing garbage trucks and complaining about the noise levels New Yorkers endure. Two nights later, lying on the floor of a tent in the Kenyan savanna transfixed by the sound of trumpeting elephants, I was forced to note the irony of my position.

From the Mountains to the Prairies (cross-country U.S.A., 1989)
Crested Butte (Colorado); Grand Canyon (Arizona); Yellowstone Park (Wyoming)

Particularly with travels of extended duration to less developed countries, one's dependence on the conveniences of modern life melts away. After a couple of months in Africa, I was in a rural village when someone mentioned that there was cold running water from 7:00 to 8:00am and 5:00 to 6:00pm. In retrospect, I believe the person was intending to "warn" me. Instead, my response was, "Twice a day? Why would you need that?"

Digs & Dives (Mexico, 1991)
Ruins at Tulum; Underwater ruins at Cozumel

The perspective that international travel affords me softens to some extent with each return to the U.S. -- but never leaves me entirely. It remains a little more difficult to get worked up over the trim color on a faucet handle after one has collected daily water from a muddy central village pump.

Bazaaro World (Turkey, 1995)
"Drink, my friend?" (Istanbul); Courtyard of Topkapi Palace (Istanbul); Blue Mosque (Istanbul);
First century Roman ruins (Ephesus); Chillin' on the coast (Bodrum)

Of course over history many have suffered privations in wartime or following meteorological disasters, and it has always seemed remarkable how quickly people resurrect their lives, but reducing life to its essentials seems to have a longer-term effect when it occurs in the context of ordinary daily routine.

North American Ramblin'
House of Voodoo in New Orleans (1994); Potato Man in
New Brunswick, Canada (1992); Snowmobiling in the Colorado Rockies (1997)

The inability to get worked up over faucet color, however, is both a blessing and a curse. Overall, I find the perspective beneficial, but there are times when the passions of those around me seem ephemeral, obsessional or even trivial. Indeed I have found that such attitudes correlate with a lack of travel experience in others. (I'm not sure which way the causal arrow points.)

I'll Follow the Sun
San Juan (1998); Curacao (1999); St. Thomas (2003)

On occasion, however, my failure to share the enthusiasms of such people may be interpreted as callousness. It is not, but I must remember to be more cognizant of cultural attitudes around me.

Wine & Cheese and Milk & Honey
Provence, France (2000); Jaffa, Israel (2001)

Michelangelo said that the Pietas were already in the stone, that he just had to liberate them. Well, I still have trips in me to Asia, India, Russia, Australia and probably elsewhere that I expect to liberate in the next few years.

Following Familial Breadcrumbs
Warsaw, Poland (2005); Auschwitz, Poland (2005); Prague, Czech Republic (2005)

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