03. The Colors of Discovery
Reflections on the essence of travel
Intro
Hello friends old and new. Hope y’all are thriving. Life has been good down in Mexico City. Real good. Hitting my stride with finding community and routine.
Remember in my last newsletter I said I would be more intentional in talking to people in the wild? Well, it happened. Ran into a dude at the gym who was the only other guy I’ve seen deadlifting. He spoke Spanish with an obvious American accent, so we started chatting. Bonded over the barbell.
Eventually, I asked if he knew any places to do a cold plunge (kind of a niche question to ask a stranger) and unfortunately he did not. But the very next day I got a text, “yo guess what I found.” And the rest was history.
Now I’m mildly plugged into a community that is uber health focused— both locals and expats. One dude there is hosting an event that Wim Hof himself will be leading. A few of the girls there were absolutely hardcore in the plunge and yoga, and we struck up convo too. Met an older guy who was absolutely jacked. I want to be like him when I’m 55 y/o. So overall, I guess it happened. Feels good. Probably one of the best days I’ve had in CDMX so far. And that’s only a piece of it.
Something I’ve discovered is that the best parts of a new city are not necessarily seeing the sights or going to the touristic places plastered all over instagram, but the most satisfying parts of a new city are when you meet cool people doing cool things (especially coupled with niche interests). That is why I travel. And that is going to be the theme of this newsletter.
Traveler’s Philosophy
The background noise in my house growing up was that of my mom cooking fragrant Indonesian food, my dad fixing cars or doing yard work, and Anthony Bourdain’s show as an ambient backdrop to it all. At first, I had no idea who this dude was. Saying some out of pocket things like “Tumescent noodles” and “Look at that greasy, fatty... yes. Come to daddy.” But I thought his approach to seeing the world was absolutely fascinating. Like a culinary anthropologist. He was enamored with finding the best food and sharing it with the locals. It was about learning and discovery through the lens of people and cuisine.
Travel is not reward for working, it’s education for living.
Anthony Bourdain
This largely shaped how I view travel today. It’s about the characters you encounter and the stories exchanged like currency. So often, people get caught up in seeing things because it was on a listicle plastered with those crummy ads. Or some peripheral acquaintance said, “You HAVE to go there!” Visiting new places for me is not about being able to say you’ve seen [insert historical monument] for clout.
Though, don’t get it twisted. I will certainly go sightseeing. But in the chapter of life I’m in right now, I value the slow burning revelations of adventure. Taking the time to learn what it’s like to live somewhere over a longer period of time.
That said, I absolutely hate it when people antagonize others for having different philosophies or approaches to travel (or differing opinions in general). At the end of the day, we are doing this for some type of internal satisfaction. As selfish as that sounds, it’s true. Everyone is searching for something different, and our individual circumstances force us to optimize for unique things. If you only have a week of vacation, of course you will approach daily activities differently than the traveler who is taking his time in a city and has more pressing daily responsibilities. It’s okay to be different. And that’s what some people miss. For me, the point of travel is to challenge my own beliefs and learn from others who carry different perspectives molded by their unique permutation of life experiences. Human-centered visitation.
People are what make a place what it is. They are the foundation to the identity of location.
It’s a pity that some far away exotic destinations lose the essence of what made them so great. Hidden paradises blow up on Instagram and oblivious tourists flock there like an invasive species raping the land of its natural beauty. On the other hand, there are positives to these astronomical booms. Economic stimulus to communities in developing countries is a good thing. Local families have a new source of income and can provide a better life for their children had tourism not taken over their towns. But it can quickly spiral out of control. When places become too touristy, they transform into this weird purgatory. People relentlessly insisting on giving you massages with soapy muck in a pink bucket. Or the strip of restaurants that all seem to sell hamburgers and fries at an insane markup. Not only do locals get priced out of enjoying these places (looking at you Tulum), but eventually foreign investment takes over. And the magic of a place crumbles.
As stewards of travel, I think we have a responsibility to be good visitors. The boy scout in me echoes in my mind like Obi-Wan to Luke Skywalker, “Leave No Trace.” We owe it to the communities that welcome us into their spaces to be good neighbors. At lease try to speak the language. That goes a long way. Take interest in the culture and support the locals rather than one of the many Starbucks littered around even the most obscure pockets of the world.
One of the first things I do in a new city is ask someone how to say the localized “what’s up.” When people see you take interest in their culture, it goes a long way to disarm the us vs them mentality. People instantly light up when they hear someone speak their native tongue.
If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.
Nelson Mandela
There’s this guy on YouTube. XiaomaNYC. Boy, is he a wizard. He knows countless languages and goes to random places in New York to practice with people whose first language is clearly not English. Every single time, they are amazed and instantly warm up to him. Speaking in someone’s native language provides a level of comfort to be around you. Being the one to yield on the language front goes a long way to being a good neighbor.
Upbringing
Depending on who you ask, my hometown is flyover territory. A part of the country often forgotten and neglected, belittled to the idea of scarce refinement. But Kentucky is more than a tessellation of brown and green squares you look down upon your transcontinental flight. I assure you that we have Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and Costcos—all symbols of suburban prosperity.
In all seriousness, I had a pretty normal suburban American childhood. But at the same time, I absolutely did not.
Where I grew up was boring. It was the cookie cutter suburban hellscape you see in those old movies. It was slow, complacent, and white. Super white. The kids I went to school with were quite frankly insensitive to the struggles of normal life. But if this is all they know, who can blame them (see: Plato’s Cave Allegory).
One of the defining memories of my childhood was when my dad took me and my brother for a weekend drive. Pretty normal. We’d just tag along for errands or something seemingly routine. But this time was different. After the normal trip to the auto parts store, we didn’t take the usual route home. After some weird twists and turns, it felt like we went descended into the labyrinth of another world. We ended up in a pretty rough part of town. The other side of the railroad tracks.
My brother and I were pretty spooked. Some of the houses were crumbling. People moping around with brown paper bags. Roads smothered with potholes. Street signs decorated with bullet-sized holes. It was evident this was a whole other socioeconomic class than we were used to. When we asked why were here, our dad replied, “I want to show you where life happens.” And boy, was this humbling. The problems we thought we had in our little suburban utopian bubble were shattered compared to the kids who were playing with a bald, deflated basketball. Or the kids who were running around playing with rocks. But what did stick, was that these kids were still having fun with what little they had. The childish contempt I had over whatever Lego set I couldn’t get evaporated. I was humbled. And I am forever grateful for this drive.
What I’m getting at is that my childhood was rich. Despite the dull absence of life and culture that was the community I lived in, my parents made a concerted effort to give us color. They literally introduced me and brother to the world. We’d go on family vacations to places like Indonesia and Germany. We could not claim to dislike something until we tried it. When I’d scoff at the tomatoes on my plate, my parents would insist that I at least nibble and then yield if I still don’t like it. This was the foundation for my life philosophy to this day. Be adventurous and try new things. Do things to break your frame. Find the color of life in otherwise dull places.
I’m incredibly privileged to have been introduced to travel at such a young age. I mean, I was privileged in more ways than one, but travel in particular is one I am forever grateful for. I think that is why I had such an affinity towards Bourdain-esque exploration. Life was a sampling platter for me since I was little, and travel is a way to entertain that once again.
Foundation
So often, people embark on soul searching quests. Eat Pray Love style. Everyone is on their own search for meaning after all. I sure am no stranger to that. But travel in and of itself may not change who you are. I do believe, instead, that it amplifies who you are. And it’s a matter of foundations.
I find it fascinating that my brother and I went our separate paths and lived independent lives, but we still converged on a lot of the same ideologies and philosophies. How did this happen? We spent much of our adult lives in very different geographic locations.
It’s because we have similar groundwork. How we were raised and what we valued as kids I think was different than most people. I always felt like there was something different when going to my friends’ houses. I couldn’t tell what at the time, but now I’m thinking it was the values. In my childhood, there was an emphasis on learning and curiosity. We did space camps, boy scouts, numerous sports, art school, the list goes on. All clutching our immigrant hustle. Humility. Empathy for the struggle. Not being afraid to try new things. I think that was the key. Knowing that your preconceived understandings of the world can change when exposed to new information.
Another piece of it was the stability of our family dinners. I was shocked to hear that some of my friends growing up never ate dinner as a family. They’d just eat their own things on their own schedules. I like to believe the constant node of family dinner was the mental reset. The town hall to reflect, share, and talk to our loved ones. This is embodiment. This was a constant variable in a turbulent life of experimentation. This allowed my brother and I to soar, for we could always depend on this space to recalibrate. We can trust that we have a sanctuary to return to. No matter where we are in the world.
It is undeniable that my parents have sacrificed so much for me and my brother. I can’t even start to think about how I’m going to repay them. But I think the thing I’m most grateful for is the foundation they built for me to be who I am today. There is nothing more I could’ve asked for.
Remember to tell your parents you love them.
Catching up with old friends
One of my Venture for America colleagues and his college mate (shoutout Ben and Christian) happened to be in Mexico City last week. After a spontaneous instagram story reply, we met to catch up. One of the themes of our conversations was why we travel. Our philosophies differed, mostly due to circumstances and the contrasting chapters of life we were all in. But this is not a bad thing. They only had a week in CDMX. Obviously they would optimize for different things. But we were set on finding the common thread that gets people to travel.
Why do the people who travel for shallow instagram clout and the people who travel for the undiscovered secrets of the world seem to be drawn to the same activity? Ultimately, we distilled that travel enables something in us that we lose when sedentary. Curiosity. In new countries, everything resets to square one. You can no longer assume the simplest of activities in daily life. From things like tipping after eating to how to greet a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend (pro-tip: they cheek kiss in Mexico). You are forced to question everything again. Obligated to learn and uncover new things. Traveling reminds us of the joy and discomfort of discovery we had in abundance growing up. As kids, everything was new to us. We were forced to treat life like the Costco free samples because we literally knew nothing. And travel is just that. It goes back to the foundational affinity to try things. Now, the medium has simply changed.
Christian and I also bonded over content creation. I had just met this kid, and we instantly realized we had experienced a very similar upbringing. His just happened to be in Reno, Nevada. Suburban Asian-American in medium-sized American city (the amount of hyphens in this sentence bothers me, but my whole identity is made up of hyphens lol). I have my newsletter as a means to document my journey. Christian, on the other hand, has a podcast. In one of his episodes, he talks about constraints. As humans, we are driven by a natural sovereignty. Freedom is a God-given right to some. But one thing Christian highlights is that we are always conforming to constraints. It’s just a matter of which constraints we choose to accept and tolerate. Sure, if my goal is to lose weight, I will have to accept the constraints that I may need to limit my diet. Many people choose to tolerate jobs they hate. Others are okay with the poor downsides of smoking and drugs. Everyone’s tolerance and taste for different variables is unique. But it’s amazing when you find others who tolerate similar constraints.
And that’s why I find CDMX so magical. Everyone who moves here from somewhere else wants to be here. We forgo modern luxuries in exchange for the magic of this city. In exchange for the warm smiles, loving communities, and potently rich culture.
I urge others to check out Christian’s podcast, he is yet another person on his own journey of self-discovery. I am glad our paths crossed. We can carry these new insights and enriching stories with us on our own individual trajectories. Best of luck in the next chapter of life amigo.
Slices of Life
The sampling platter of life here in Mexico has been rich.
From getting sick eating a street pambazo to having sushi served bottle-service style. The spectrum for embodiment has been vast. Dancing with strangers. Starting conversations at the places I frequent. Becoming a Chilango (maybe not yet, but soon).
Aforementioned bottle-service sushi:
I feel like this chapter of my life has been incredibly rewarding thus far. I always get super pumped when I meet new people and share good conversation. And I have found myself in more and more of those situations here than anywhere else before.
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Here are also some inspiring snippets of wisdom some friends had shared with me.
He who cups his hand will have more water than the man who clenches his fist
This was my reminder to spread love. That’s the most inexpensive gift you can give someone. And it is ever more important when you are in a new place trying to meet people. We are mirrors, and you only receive what you put out in the world. So remember to take a deep breathe and don’t take things too seriously.
Additionally, two independent parties had recommended I read the manga Vagabond. When something occurs once, sure it’s a recommendation. But when it happens twice in a short period of time, I don’t know. It might be an omen.
Anyway, Vagabond recounts a fictitious story of Musashi Miyamoto, one of the greatest samurai to ever live. It illustrates the growth and transformation of a young, impulsive warrior to a more enlightened, disciplined individual as he explores mastery of the way of the sword. Here is a page from the book that particularly resonated with me. Remember to zoom out for the bigger picture. We are more insignificant than we think.
Conclusion
Ultimately, I wanted to explore the essence of travel with this assortment of reflections.
Regardless of divergent philosophies, I think people are drawn to travel for the refreshment of childlike wonder we so easily lose as time grinds us down. It’s refreshing to be in a city with a deep affinity towards human connection with constant reminders to spread love and not take things so seriously.
I’m grateful for the upbringing that influenced me to be someone who is appreciative of these experiences and aspires to continue seeking new connections and learnings.
The color of life in CDMX is so incredibly vibrant, and I hope this inspires some of you to continue exploring and living an embodied life. Whatever that looks like for you. I genuinely hope you enjoyed this (somewhat scattered) collection of thoughts.
With much love, always 🌞