A World Visitor

I have been to more countries than most of my friends. I get excited about a new passport stamp the way I imagine a Girl Scout would get excited over a new badge -- I wouldn't know, as I was never a Girl Scout.

After receiving my third stamp, I considered myself a world traveler. But I read a blog from a REAL world traveler recently that completely changed my idea of what it means to be a true traveler. To my complete surprise, I have come to the realization that I haven't really traveled at all. Sure, I've seen a lot of places. I've bravely eaten a lot of foreign cuisine, and I've socialized (somewhat) with as many locals as I could that spoke English.

But this traveler said something that made me pause -- he said, "it's not about how many stamps are in your passport. Traveling is not about competition, it's about the experience."

Then it donned on me: I am not a world traveler. I am a world visitor. I've never immersed myself in a foreign culture for any length of time and have rarely gone beyond the typical tourist traps of every foreign place I've been.

I've always enjoyed going on trips. As a kid, I think it was mostly the constant movement that drew me in, though our family trips always took place in the U.S. I liked the newness of it -- seeing a place for the first time, or driving through a town that I had never heard of. Taking pictures of big buffalo statues or huge roller skates on the side of the road. Road trips have always been a favorite of mine - the less planned out the trip is, the better and more enjoyable it becomes.

But international travel has been a bit different for me. Managing to get off the beaten path is something that has eluded me, for the most part. But, there have been a few exceptions. Just a quick highlight of some of these exceptions:

I'll never forget the cab ride in Bahrain. A guy friend of mine and I wanted to get off base and just go somewhere (anywhere) other than the base bowling alley or bar (the memorable Desert Dome), so we took a cab to their mall. The cab ride was nerve-racking to say the least. Cabs in NYC felt tame compared to this experience, and when we passed a highway sign that read "To Saudi Arabia" and that was the highway the cab driver took, it only added to the uneasy feeling. Then the cabbie looked back at me and my friend with a smirk and asked us if we wanted to go to a hotel -- and kept asking even after we told him that a mall in BAHRAIN would be just fine. I still sometimes wonder how I kept my cool. Did I mention that this was during Operation Enduring/Iraqi Freedom and was right around the time the Saddam statue was being pulled down in Baghdad? I knew we didn't have reason to really worry -- Bahrain was friendly to U.S. troops, but ... not everyone in the country felt that way, and we sure didn't want to end up crossing borders - no matter how friendly those borders seemed.

Of course, then there was Singapore -- which was a blast. Oops -- forgot to draw out the sarcasm on that one. Of the three days we were in port, I had liberty for two days. Day 1 was a disaster. It was rainy all day. A different Navy friend and I decided to go off on our own (big mistake) and jump on the train to the center city. We thought we were both doing good -- being familiar with subways, the Singapore trains were color coded which made it easy for us English-only speakers. Of course, the map included a "purple line" which we needed to pick up in order to get to where we thought we wanted to go. About an hour later of waiting in the terminal, we finally found out from a worker that spoke English that the purple line had not completed construction yet and was thus not running. The real fun part after that was trying to figure out where to go, how to get there, and what to do when we did get there. We managed to take a train somewhere, find a food court, get a drink, fight with each other about which way to go down a street that reminded me of Times Square gone tech. And after just wanting off the ship and away from the people we saw day in and day out, we glued ourselves to the first fellow shipmates we came across along the way. We dined at the truly authentic Hard Rock Cafe where we at least drank a Singapore Sling, then picked up additional friendly faces and found a bar that played American music and served Tiger beer. We stuck together to find our way back to our ship and then Day 2 was spent on the quite large Singapore base where we did all of our shopping. But, after the previous day's experience, we even opted for another friend to guide us to the stores on base for lack of enthusiasm of getting lost...again. Oh! And did I mention the toilets which were just holes in the ground? Good times.

Australia was a MAJOR improvement and was a welcome sight for by-then sore eyes (as were the Aussie Navy guys on the small boat talking to us as we were pulling into the pier.) In all seriousness, the sight and sound of an elementary and middle school marching band welcoming our ship to the pier with "Anchors Aweigh" is something I hope to never forget. The zoo where our group was chased by an emu (they must not believe in cages in their zoos) or the night zoo where I fed kangaroos sweet bread by a campfire...these are definitely memories I will cherish for as long as my memory holds up and these are memories that can't be captured in a scrapbook.

Round 2 with my friend from the Singapore adventure was held in Italy. One highlight was this atheist sort of "running into" a crowd that eventually all saw the new Pope (I even have a picture to prove that one.) And as much as this particular friend and I have experience in getting lost, we managed to do the same in a little place called San Giamnano (I know I spelled that wrong) -- but we had a fun tour guide in Michaelangelo and the hightlight was going to a family owned vineyard and eating and drinking, and eating and drinking, and then eating some more. Mangia! Mangia! The cibo and vino were fantastico! Muah!

The trip to Ireland with my criminal justice class at Penn State left me with many fond memories. Seeing Newgrange was just plain cool. Meeting Ireland's first woman on their Supreme Court -- another "just plain cool" moment. Running into a Scottish rugby team at the top of the Guinness tower was not only unexpected, but turned into a pretty sweet memory after they talked the female bartenders in leading a rendition of Molly Malone -- everyone in the bar joined in that knew the words. Renting a car with 3 classmates and driving on our own 4 hours away to Blarney Castle -- and hanging upside down to kiss the Blarney Stone -- although this is considered a touristy part of Ireland, the trip itself was the experience. Oh! And I can't forget about getting the bejesus scared out of me in the creepy monastery we stayed in at Maynooth -- and touring the gothic graveyard behind the dorms at night -- these are definitely moments I hope I won't forget anytime soon, and are but just a few of the cool experiences I had in that country.

And that brings us to Greece. I have so many wonderful memories of the Greek islands, it's hard to summarize any of them. My favorite, and the one that will always make me smile, is definitely the restaurant we ate at in Karterados (twice, since seeing and flirting with my Greek man one night just wasn't enough). I'd love to go back there someday.

Next up for me is a cruise -- something I've never done (outside of the Navy of course). We'll be heading to St. Thomas, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, and Haiti. I'm most looking forward to Haiti and I'm sure I'll have more experiences in these places to add to the "exceptions."

After reading some highlights from the places I've been, maybe being a world visitor isn't such a bad thing. Although I haven't immersed myself in the culture of the places I've been -- abandoning attempts at speaking English or seeking out the not so famous spots that offer a true glimpse of the people that live there -- I still have been able to have fun and exciting experiences in foreign places. And when it comes right down to it -- isn't that what traveling -- foreign or domestic -- is really about?