There is no them or us
Why travelers know that boundaries are just lines in the sand
For those of you in the States, I’m sure you remember when Donald Trump remarked that “a nation without borders is not a nation; there must be a wall across the southern border [of the United States]”, a proposal that he insists he’ll force Mexico to pay for. I’m appalled as an American, but the reality is that this kind of thinking isn’t new. For centuries, we’ve placed invisible borders around the world. We’ve defined our lives in terms of “them” versus “us”. We talk about places like India, Mexico, and less recently, China, as less developed countries, less literate people, less, well, everything. We assume that as Americans, we are the most educated, most well governed, most progressive.
I’m a fairly new traveler, and by that I mean my first passport stamp was in December 2014 when I left my assumptions at home and hopped a plane to Mexico. My first experience outside the U.S. was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Plastered against the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen, were heavily armed Federales. The first time I saw them drive through town I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Maybe this place wasn’t safe afterall…
Fast forward to my first solo trip to Portugal — and the same thing happened. This time, my response was pretty non-chalant. I had adjusted to the fact that police in other countries are pretty different (and pretty much the same) as the U.S. Leave them be and mostly they leave you be. I had the time of my life in Lisbon, wandering around windy streets and visiting incredible monuments against the most deliriously beautiful backdrops. My mind had learned to edit out the guns, the police, the armed uniforms.
When my then-boyfriend asked me to come to Colombia with him on a whim post-graduation, I felt both terrified and compelled to confront the myths that had plagued my conscience. My most recent memories of Colombia involved drug lords, kidnappings, and volatile governments. Was this really the same experience I would have though?
I can’t speak for the entire country, but Bogota was an incredible experience. I could easily have stayed another month and still not have seen all there is to see. That’s the beauty of travel — the experience of feeling both satisfied with what you’ve seen and disappointed you don’t have time to see more.
We spent days wandering the streets watching guinea pig races, levitating magicians and break dancers. We ate delicious food from some of the most interesting restaurants I have ever visited. We learned about Colombian culture, history and governments long past. We toured art exhibits filled with intricate gold boats and beautiful precious gems. We walked the stations of the cross. And in all of the time we spent on public buses, in the streets of Bogota, and frankly, at times incredibly lost, we never felt unsafe. I’d argue that part of that is because we were together. The other part is that the threats that we thought we’d face, were ill-conceived.
- Colombia has a higher literacy rate (91.4%) than the U.S. (86%).
- Bogota and Medellin are considered among the most progressive cities in Latin America.
- Bogota boasts more than 300km of bicycle routes throughout the city, the largest in South America.
- Colombian women wear heels — everywhere.
- 90% of the country is Catholic (and it’s reflected everywhere).
As it turns out, Bogotá at least, is incredibly safe. And welcoming. And progressive. And full of history. And so many other positive things. From the school children who said hi and welcomed me with open arms, literally, to their country, to the emphasis on respect and manners everywhere we went, to the pleasantness of every encounter, the city has a lot going for it. Add the fact that it’s incredibly affordable (our exchange rate was 2800 cop : 1 usd), and it’s easy to see why we discussed the possibility of moving there.
In fact, the seamless integration of closed streets on weekends and holidays into life in the city was jarring at first — I live in the one of the most densely populated cities in the U.S. and we don’t do this. One Saturday morning, we casually strolled up a very closed-to-cars Avenida Carrera, where hundreds of people could be found biking, skating, walking their dogs, or jogging. There were street vendors selling jugos, frutas, and botanas. There were mobile bike units that can fix a flat or tune your bike, and plenty of bowls of water for the mascotas running alongside you. Museums were open and free on Sundays. Musicians played in town squares. And artists spilled their work onto closed streets, inviting us to private showings of their latest works.
I’ve been home for over a year now, but I still reflect on my time in Colombia, and in Mexico and Portugal, and came to realize something incredibly important. Every country I’ve visited has further broken down these ideas that somehow there is a “them” and an “us”. Traveling the world has reinforced that there is a we, one people, on one planet. The borders we draw on maps are just imaginary lines in the sand.
As human beings, we are one in the same, regardless of our country of origin. We are wired to protect our young; care for our families; participate in our communities. Sometimes the world feels like an incredibly big place — the things that happen in other countries couldn’t possibly affect me. But my coffee could easily come from Colombia — and the farmers who farm it could have been the same ones at the local market I visited when I was there. We are all aiming for the same goal: enough to live and survive and provide for our families.
America is fortunate, if not too arrogant. There is a lot to learn from the countries around us — how we can better support our communities, how we can support each other, and how we can share with those who need it most. The idea that we are better than anyone else, anywhere else, has to end. We need to recognize that we (people) are no different, that our experiences, pain, and wants and needs are no different than anyone else’s.
I encourage all of you to take a second today and immerse yourself in a new culture — read a different language, visit another part of town, and remember that Love is Love is Love regardless of what language we speak it in, on what country, and in what city.
