Stay, Don't Go
Does anyone else feel resentment for their friends who, by some unfathomable circumstances, have been blessed to travel the world? Meanwhile, the rest of us sit here at our desks at 2:30pm on a Tuesday.
We constantly scroll, eyelids heavy, through filtered photos of exotic places and laughing faces on Facebook. We wonder when will we be able to save enough to pack our bags and fly out to some fabulous destination, while our friends drone on, “When I went out dancing in Madrid – they don’t go to sleep till 4am, you know – we would always…” or “In Italy, when they serve you coffee, it’s just…”
Yes, we get it, your life is amazing.
We are told to travel at every chance we get, ‘go while you’re young,’ ‘go before you have a family and a career,’ ‘go before it’s too late,’ or, heaven forbid, ‘YOLO.’ My proposition, however, will be to the contrary.
Let me begin by agreeing, wholeheartedly, that there is value to travel. There is inherent gain from new experiences, interacting with other cultures, and meeting new people. It can also, and more importantly, provide you with new perspectives and change the way you might look at others, or your own life. Absolutely. It’s also definitely fun.
But at the same time, it is my opinion that most people travel for the mere sake of escaping from their own lives. I can compare those who constantly travel to addicts searching for their next high (it is not my intention, though, to draw a moral equivalency). And that’s not a healthy or fulfilling pursuit.
It is my proposition that you should stay, rather than go; It is my suggestion that there is equal value, if not more, in being a local than being a tourist.
My first point is a small, pragmatic one. First, for the sake of mere utility, staying local allows you to become more physically acquainted with your own city. Nothing gives me cause to abandon hope in my generation more than a friend who, despite having traveled the same path numerous times, uses Google Maps to navigate to Target. Getting to know your own city, firsthand, helps you build a mental map of your area and provides you with lighthouses by which to navigate. You’re more apt to venture out if you know you won’t be lost if your phone dies.
But more importantly, let’s talk about how being a local contributes to building personal relationships. I would argue that building relationships with your neighbors is more valuable than a passing acquaintance with vacation strangers. The advantages are four-fold.
Can you borrow some duct-tape from Brian that you drank with on the beach in Costa Rica? No, but Julia, next door, would be happy to share. First, getting to know your neighbors and businesses becomes a catalyst for your building of social skills. Another example: You walk into the market down the street every week and strike up a conversation with the guy behind the counter. You learn he lives right over there, and loves craft beer.
This little annoying dance you have to do when you go to a place more intimate than Walmart is inherently valuable. These skills you cultivate bleed into every aspect of your life – gaining you like-ability at work and school, and making you, generally, a better, more approachable person. It does the same for the guy behind the counter. As a whole, all of these interactions, like ripples in a pond, begin to promote a close-knit, healthy community. Knowing your neighbors is a profitable thing.
I could also draw the connection between sociability and mental health. Those left in isolation are more prone to extremism and harmful thought patterns. In this age of isolation and depression due to social media, getting out and taking part in new experiences and events, all while interacting with people and creating relationships, is the antidote.
Why else should you stay local? Only locals give a place local flair. It’s the citizens and the environment they created that make a place special. As I write this, I am reminded of an important concept in architecture called the “sense of place.” It is the notion that a place can be deeply memorable because of its experiential qualities. It comes from the phrase genius loci and literally means “genius of place,” or “god [or spirit] of place.”
Cozumel wouldn’t be Cozumel if all the residents looked and talked and thought like you. Would you long to go to Paris if it were merely a copy of Nashville? No, you expect it to have its own unique personality. That’s why you value it and long to be there.
But, in reality, Paris probably doesn’t have the je ne sais quoi your mind attributes to it. If you lived there, the rose-colored coating from your glasses would begin to wash away, and you would see it, like every place, for its harsh, probably ugly, reality. Parisians probably don’t long to be in Paris. Maybe they desire to retreat to Sri Lanka.
Desire to be elsewhere is just a truth of the human condition. Nevertheless, the attraction of a place is that beautiful painted-picture of that place in your mind that may or may not exist. Just like the mango vendor in the Philippines could be the fastest slicer in the world, no one does a rodeo like San Antonio. You contribute to your city’s local flair just as Filipinos do. You play a small part in describing the narrative that outsiders leave with after they visit, whether or not they’re on vacation.
I would also appeal to those in their twenties, itching to leave as often as they can, that you can’t fully appreciate the places you go until you’ve lived a real life first, whatever that looks like in your timeline. You can go to a place young and have an ethereal picture of it that you carry with you for years, and glean something completely different from that place when you return as an adult.
I would argue that you can’t completely value other cultures until you’ve reached a certain level of maturity. That maturity is gained through years of constant, honorable drudgery of day-to-day, perseverance through that humble job you have, as well as steadfast provision - provision for yourself first and then for your family. You can’t truly recognize the value of the cultures you may encounter until you become a mature person with a lifestyle you value and respect – until you shape your own lifestyle into a noble and healthy one.
Save those experiences for a time when you can fully appreciate them. Even better is it to share those with people that you love, and vice-versa. That way, you’ve not only given a lasting memory to yourself, but also to your spouse and children. Then you can go off and glean from those cultures what is actually superior, constructive, or healthy and not just aesthetically pleasing or Instagram-ready.
My point above is that, you may not necessarily gain anything except an escape via travelling. We can gain bits of the same feeling of escape through mini vacations – enjoying a movie, crafting something, or going to a new restaurant.
The main sentiment that I’d like to convey is that your city, no matter which, has so much to offer. You can spend a lifetime, as people used to, discovering the depth your place offers and never reach its bottom.
Where I live, it brings me great joy to be able to walk down from my apartment to the convenience store down the block and also see the Latino Cultural Center across the street. I so much enjoy the ability to scooter 5 minutes in one direction to visit the wonderful hipsterdom of a rough-sawn coffee shop or the ultra-modern wine club 5 minutes the other direction.
I know of the incredible view from the top of a skyscraper where I got sick and puked up my expensive sushi, and the underground speakeasy downtown. I’m going with my boss soon to his favorite cigar bar. All this, and I’ve only lived here four months; I know there’s more to come, and I can’t wait to uncover it.
What I’m trying to express is that you become the tour guide of your own destination. You become the expert on your own city. Maybe your friends begin to come to you for recommendations, or conversely, fore-warnings against sketchy places to avoid.
The way I see it, you can have a fleeting knowledge of a lot of places, like a slide projector of memories, or you can become the foremost expert on your own place, getting to know its ins and outs, nooks and crannies, and idiosyncrasies. You can know the grunge of its underbelly and the views at its peaks.
What a pleasure it might be to go on a date and instead of pretentiously droning on about the tour of Europe you took two years ago, surprise your partner with the unique, sultry bar with the great street tacos next door that few others know about. From then on, not only will your partner have that place to indulge in when they want a memorable night, but will also associate that place with the unique memory of you.
You can find hidden gems that you and others can enjoy continuously, not just when you blow your savings every couple of years to hop on a plane. What happens is that you create a much larger roster of experiences, places and relationships, in detail, than you would having spent a week in a place, trying frantically to soak up its zeitgeist before you must leave.
The good thing about local exploration is that it has no expiration date. Career doesn’t keep you from it, kids don’t keep you from it, and money isn’t a hindrance as it is when going abroad. You can live your best lifestyle (I’m guilty of the Millennial lifestyle, myself, and loving it) spending the money you might have put away to travel.
Young and old, rich and poor can belong to a sense of place. If I can to implore to you to do one thing, it’s to long to be where you are, not where you aren’t.