A Round-the-World Trip Would be Wasted on Me

I’ve mentioned before that I have a handful of globe-trotting friends. When I hear about these friends’ adventures and see the pictures they’ve brought back, I hear two competing voices in my head. One says, “Holy crap, that looks absolutely terrifying. Do they have any idea just how many things could have gone wrong on a trip like that? Human beings lack sharp teeth, claws, thick hides, protective fur, and acute senses. We’re just soft and pink and ready to be mauled.” The other says, “You know, maybe I should think about traveling more.”

My friend Maggie posted about her trip to a Kigali bar and ride home with a stranger on her blog, girlventures.net. I absolutely love this story. I love the way she’s connected with the other people at her hostel. I love the stories and memories she gets to have. I love that she had enough trust to accept kindness from a stranger and make a personal and very poignant connection as a result. In a way, I crave that.

But I know that even if I were to go on a similar trip, I wouldn’t have these experiences. I don’t consume foods the origins of which I do not know. I don’t even trust McDonald’s. How could I possibly drink Waragi (as Maggie puts it, “a potentially deadly Ugandan gin”)? I could work around that by setting some on fire and seeing what color the flame is. If it was green, I’d politely decline it. If it was blue, I’d feel safe tossing back a few. But by this time, the social experience would have been ruined. Geeking out with displays of anxiety does not generally lead to comfortable social interactions. It’s not a good display of trust, and trust is necessary for these types of connections, I find.

And assuming I even made it out to the bar with the others, it’s likely I would have missed out on the part of the story I most envy because I would never have gotten into a vehicle with a stranger.

I generally think of this as a personal failing. But hey: it’s who I am. If I don’t like it, I can either take measures to change it or I can learn to accept it. Really, not consuming items of unknown origin and not taking rides from strangers in the middle of the night aren’t bad qualities. They just don’t generally result in fun stories.

So, I’m unlikely to have exciting stories to tell. That’s not great if I’ve decided I want to write first-person adventure tales for a living, but it’s not that negative a thing in my everyday life. I have a low threshold for excitement. I get an adrenaline rush from taking the bus instead of driving. That’s more convenient and less expensive than traveling, anyway.

And as Woody Allen has proven, people find neurotic behavior amusing, if it’s framed properly. Perhaps that’s my niche.

Seriously, though: I highly recommend checking out Maggie’s blog. It’s inspiring even to a stick-in-the-mud like myself.