Many people leave Alaska during winter to faraway lands with thousands saved from summer work to stay in a spoiled state of fat bellied drunkenness. They often use credit cards to buy tickets home because they are flat broke. They consciously travel to cheap places to drink cheap alcohol and eat delicious food all day; with a few stops at historic sites along the way. I, too, have done this type of traveling.

I spent part of my first year in the military in Vicenza, Italy. At the age of eighteen I was able to drink and nothing mattered more to me than eating and drinking. It didn’t matter what the meal was called or how the wines were prepared; I had money to spend and I wanted to party. In the time I was in Italy I never made it to Rome. Not to Florence, Milan or many other cities where people go. I managed to make it to Venice a handful of times because it was a forty-five minute train ride from base but I don’t have any memories of nights there. Nor do I recall a single person I met or in what ways I was inspired by the Italian culture. No no no… my travels didn’t take anybody into consideration besides myself. I didn’t notice anything besides prices on menus and alcohol selections. I was basically living hand to mouth. A state of existence adopted by many before something abruptly throws them for a loop. I didn’t care that the Italians despised American soldiers because of our drunken buffoonery; instead, I picked fights with them and gave them more reasons to hate me.

Then we were ordered to Iraq and everything changed.  I realized that I had been taking everything for granted in Italy and hadn’t experienced their culture at all. When I returned a year later is when I experienced Italy for the first time. We jogged down brick streets in the early morning as bakeries opened then watched the sun rise on the city. The smells, sounds, sites and dreaminess I had romanticized about became real.

I have been to various countries since with a different perspective than before. No longer do I travel somewhere to “help the needy” or “teach someone the right way” or “take advantage of cheap prices.” Nowadays, I travel without set plans and stay open to opportunities which present themselves. I go places where I admire the people and lifestyle, with hopes of learning from them before leaving.

Adventure is something that has been sought since human existence. Boredom kills people. Look at suicide rates in Alaska in the winter. We all need adventure yet so often we recreate our monotonous lives in other countries and are later disappointed they didn’t meet our standards. Rumors are spread about the inferior status of the country and it’s citizens. This is blasphemy and ethnocentrism at it’s worst.

A true journey will completely change a person and the way they approach the world. A journey may break people, such as soldiers in war or a prisoner in solitary confinement; others can be used to gain great wisdom and insight; ways to grow spiritually; learning to have faith in a higher power to call upon when obstacles are presented; a way to relinquish our attachment to places, people and objects. As the Buddhists believe that all of life is suffering and the root of suffering comes from attachment; when we journey to distant lands without plans, expectations and unlimited resources we are forced out of our comfort zone and made to adapt. Challenges are overcome. Strangers are met and become friends. Languages may be learned, both universal and independent. Self-confidence may shatter one’s previous identity as timid and invisible. A realization that we are all connected can change everything. That there is a much larger population than exists in Bumfuck, Nebraska.

Upon return home after such a journey it is easy to feel distant from our neighbors. We sense close-mindedness and lack of virtues from our old friends and role models. Subtle forms of racism are exposed, sometimes not so subtle, both within ourselves and others. We vow to live differently. To treat people the same, and to live each day with gratitude for what we have. A vacation is like a Tylenol that temporarily removes the pain; a journey can root out the pain and extinguish it forever.