Traveler or Tourist?

I'm launching a podcast in just a couple of days that has been in the works for a long time. I want to help bring people together through shared, open, entertaining, wandering conversation. More on this soon.

In the meantime, I wanted to write about a related topic: traveling with empathy.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love travel. I feel travel brings people together so we can learn from each other, create mutual understanding, and have fun.

(Side note: I hope that in tomorrow's India-Pakistan T20 World Cup match we see respect between the teams. As an India fan, I really hope the Indian team shakes hands with the Pakistani team. Sportsmanship and humanity over politics and pettiness.)

I'm writing this from a cafe in Cape Town, where I arrived after a few days in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. Cape Town is a beautiful city with incredible landscapes, attractive people, delicious food, and diverse culture.

I've been really excited to live here for a while, particularly because there's a vibrant expat scene which I knew would help me build community quickly. But in just 4 days here, I've also noticed myself feeling upset a lot. I've been wondering why.

While reflecting on this, I was reminded of a distinction my college mentor Michael Young drew for me years ago: the difference between a traveler and a tourist.

As Michael explained it to me, a traveler engages from a place of learning -- about people, culture, food, languages, values, etc. No matter how many places a traveler has lived or visited, a traveler asks questions and listens attentively. Because of this, a traveler constantly has their perspectives challenged, their horizons broadened, their ego humbled.

A tourist often looks to collect something from a place. Checking things off a bucket list. Recognition. Validation. Maybe just relaxation. A tourist can, and often will, reel off, unprompted, the number of places they've visited, the top 3 unique experiences they recently had, or their upcoming life-changing trips. I've certainly been guilty of this.

I actually want to be really careful to not be judgmental. I realize I'm making it sound better to be a traveler, and that being a tourist is bad. That's not my intention. Michael would say that actually neither way of operating is better or worse. And in fact that they aren't mutually exclusive. I agree.

So why has this traveler-tourist distinction been instructive for me as I reflect on what's been bothering me?

In the last few days, I've been surrounded by expats and digital nomads - many of them extremely intelligent, kind, and well-traveled. I've also observed a sort of "tourist" group-think -- and group-"do" -- which has really rubbed me the wrong way. Rather than refer to specific examples or people, I'll share instead some scenarios that I've witnessed over and over.

A group of expats are riding in an Uber, talking about how they've gotten amazing deals on epic tours, gone to insane pool parties, stayed in gorgeous hotels or villas, and lived in 12 different cities in 12 months.

Meanwhile the Uber driver sits in silence, patiently driving, taking these nomads from point A to point B, no one observing his name, saying "thank you", or taking a moment to think about his life situation and how he might feel overhearing this conversation.

A group of expats are sipping wine at a beachfront restaurant in the middle of the day talking about how cheap life is in this country, how they can work whenever they feel like it, how they don't understand why people would choose to live their boring, routine lives in one city, god forbid with imperfect weather instead of yearlong sunshine.

Meanwhile the restaurant server stands in silence, patiently waiting, going around the table to carefully take people's orders, no one observing his name, saying "thank you", or taking a moment to think about his life situation and how he might feel overhearing this conversation.

A group of expats come back from a hike together in the morning in their lululemon gear holding their matcha lattes, waxing about how great it is to live their "best life" because they gave up their expensive apartments in San Francisco or New York and instead now have a fancy beautiful flat in an idyllic European city while also spending parts of the year in other places, versus going back to the "s***show" that is the United States.

Meanwhile the nearby security staff smile and offer a greeting, the nearby locals wait for their morning bus to come pick them up, the nearby public workers sweep up trash and clean the public bathrooms along the promenade, all patiently going about their lives, no one taking a moment to think about these people's life situations, and how they might feel overhearing this conversation.

I find the lack of empathy and curiosity infuriating (I really should probably start carrying around barf bags). This is what it looks like to be a tourist and not balance it with being a traveler. BTW these are all real scenarios which happened this past week.

One expat actually told me that over the last 3 summers here in Cape Town, they hadn't met a single local. Because there was so much other cool stuff going on. And that this was also the case in all of the multiple destinations that they'd lived in over the past many years as part of the best-known digital nomad groups. Then the person laughed and said that the best opportunity to meet a local was probably through a dating app (seriously?).

It's almost felt like a brag from people in these groups that they can live such a charmed life with an in-built community, without needing to integrate locally.

To be clear: I have no issue with people choosing to live an indefinite, itinerant lifestyle. God knows I fall into this bucket, not having had my own apartment now for over 3 years.

But there's a way to live this life with compassion and gratitude versus judgment and snobbery.

It matters to consider whether we're acting like a traveler or a tourist. It matters to not compare lifestyles such that we portray ours as "better" than someone else's because we've "figured it out".

It matters that we actually make an effort to greet, respect, and learn from locals versus letting them fade into the background as they help us meet our daily needs.

It matters that we acknowledge the opportunity and privilege (and the difficulty!) to live in different places versus just celebrating the glitz and glamor of collecting experiences, posting about them on social media, and wearing the nomadic life as a badge of honor or superiority.

And there's so much good energy out there, just waiting to be shared, if we take a moment to really see people in the places we go.

Last night, I went for dinner to an Italian restaurant connected to the place where I'm staying. A jovial South African man named Litha seated me. I smiled and asked him how he was doing and where he was from.

For a second, Litha was taken aback -- and then he smiled back and said he's from the Eastern Cape. He shared how he ended up in Cape Town, and how his experience has been.

Litha asked me about my heritage. We spoke about the similarities between parts of India and parts of South Africa, where different ethnic groups speak different languages and at times found themselves pitted against each other during British rule.

We must have ended up talking for about 10 minutes on and off, between him coming to my table to take my order, then bringing it over, and then randomly coming to check on me every so often.

When I was getting ready to go, he smiled again and told me how nice it was just to chat -- and how this never happens with other tourists. It was my turn to be taken aback. I asked him "Do you normally not speak to your guests? You seem so friendly."

Litha vigorously shook his head to indicate "no", and then while making a hand gesture to imitate pushing someone away he said "Usually all I get is someone telling me to come back in a bit because they haven't had time to look at the menu."

Litha is just one of many locals who have been so gracious with me.

A bellman at my hotel said hello to me two days ago, and was thrilled when I responded with a smile. He told me he'd seen me come in and out a few times and had been looking forward to asking me about my heritage. Part of his family came from India generations ago, and we laughed about sharing similar facial features. The excitement from him was palpable. I'm actually embarrassed I don't remember his name.

An Uber driver I had named Dickens was so excited to show me pictures of his hometown in Malawi when I asked him where he was from. He told me it was a beautiful country that most people don't inquire about. He shared how life was different there versus here in Cape Town.

I met the operations manager Lindsey at my hotel because I was hoping to pay for access to the hotel gym even after shifting over to a nearby apartment in a couple days. Lindsey and I spoke about my time living in other cities, and I told her how having a gym where I could feel relaxed really helps me settle into a place so I can show up better for others.

She looked at me kindly and told me she'd speak to her staff so that anytime I wanted to come, someone would let me in. For free. And then she smiled and said "Go be strong and healthy." I froze for a second, a bit stunned by how kind Lindsey was. And then I just smiled and said "thank you" over and over.

These are just a few moments which have given me so much joy in the past few days, and I think it's the contrast between these "traveler" moments and the other "tourist" moments which has led to my emotional dissonance.

I feel a deep desire for all the expats and nomads around me to actually care about integrating with local people. To not just live in a bubble. I remember feeling this a lot over the last couple years too.

Remember, there are real humans on the other end of every interaction we have. Exchanging smiles with people feels nice. Hearing about people's lives feels nice. Listening to another person's perspective feels nice. Let's practice this behavior. Let's practice being travelers.

No matter where in the world we are or who we're speaking to, it's important to remember that we're all wandering through life, trying to figure things out (teaser for the theme of my upcoming podcast).

Which reminds me, I forgot to find out the name of the server who brought me the delicious oatmeal I just had, and who allowed me to stay an hour and a half beyond closing time just to write this. Next time :)