I met tourists that took more time getting to know locals who cook street food than they did in taking photographs of temples. I met travelers who were more interested in getting drunk than they were in hiking a nearby waterfall.
Not sure why but folks in the traveler set like to discuss the merits of being a traveler versus being a tourist. As if it’s a defining thing and indicative of the kind of person you are. While I don’t have an interest in being a part of that discussion I can tell you this…
Who you really are is revealed by where you keep your fishbowl.
Life as a beta
There are these fish called beta. You may have even had one as a kid. You can’t keep more than one beta in the same fishbowl because they’ll end up killing each other. Bad attitudes, obviously.
Because of their nature, most betas have subjected themselves to a small, cramped, and lonely existence. In a fishbowl of their own, they’re segregated from the rest of the world.
People live in fishbowls, too.
Fishbowls that keep people from interacrting with the world around them. Their fishbowls keep them from talking with their neighbors. Fishbowls keep folks inside a small but familiar comfort zone. Fishbowls color and shape the way people view and judge the world… and they don’t get out of the bowl for a different perspective.
In fact, people put a lot of energy into staying inside their fishbowls. So much so that they’ll carry their fishbowl with them halfway around the world.
A fishbowl comparison
In Thailand I was amazed at the number of folks I met who, after being in-country more than a few weeks, couldn’t speak anything other than “hello” and “thank you” in Thai.
A $10 investment in a pocket language guide got me more laughs, built more friendships, a got me more invites to gatherings than anything else I could have done. Even though I butchered the language.
I met others who’d order hot tea and remark how poor the service was because it wasn’t delivered the way they get it back home.
I have a thing about eating on the floor. I don’t like it, I need a table and chair. But, in the village I lived in, every meal was on the floor. Sitting there, everyone circled around the food, I gained a deeper understanding of family.
Some folks ate the same two dishes day-in and day-out because the local food was “too nasty”.
Frog. I ate frog. And live shrimp caught in rice fields. And some other weird shit I don’t even know what it was. The people that ate it with me smiled because I wasn’t put-off by their different ways.
There were those that as soon as they woke up at noon they’d begin planning where to go drinking that night.
While hiking through the jungle I came upon a group of locals picnicking by and swimming in a river. They waved me over to join them for food and swimming. Despite not speaking the other’s language, we had a great time playing in the river together. And drinking in the rain forest.
The Fishbowl Philosophy
The only way to enrich your experience of life is to leave your fishbowl. It’s also the best way to enrich the lives of others… jump over to their side for a while.
So, go as a tourist or go as a traveler. It doesn’t matter which. What really matter is whether or not you travel with your fishbowl.
Granted, it was scary as all mother-fucking hell for me to leave mine. Especially as a stranger in a strange land. But I tell ya… there’s nothing quite as liberating as leaving your fishbowl behind. Hell, crack it on your way out.
How’s your fishbowl?
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Wow, fantastic post. So well put!
I try to live my entire life outside the fishbowl, staying open-minded to everything and trying to understand things I disagree with instead of rejecting them entirely.
After living in the same 40 sq mile radius for the past 28 years, I realized that all the “sameness” was slowly killing me. I’ve decided to become a nomadic world traveler and to venture into the unknown, trying to understand different cultures, different people, and different ways of living. It’s partly a mission of self-discovery, but also a way for me to give myself the opportunity to show others that the world is so much bigger than their local shopping plaza.
I leave for South India next month, traveling with only the contents of a 30L backpack.
I’ve subscribed and I look forward to your future posts!
great comment, raam. that fishbowl sure is stifling, isn’t it? the decision to go nomad is usually paved with, as you point to, some sort of dissatisfaction with how things are. but once you make that decision, make that jump, you feel so much more liberated. you’ll enjoy the journey, and the people and cultures you meet along the way.
30L backpack. nice. y’know, the more you pack to bring with you, the more you bring your fishbowl. it’s surprising how little you actually need. all the other stuff is just fishbowl decoration.
thanks