Beyond Our Walls and Beyond COVID-19

We used to travel around the world—we used to be five of many hundreds of thousands of travelers. Now, in the coronavirus epoch, none of us are going anywhere. 

Here in Siem Reap, Cambodia, the Santillo’s are in a holding pattern. We are waiting for the world to be well and safe again. We are waiting until we can responsibly resume traveling—or just go home. 

Ironically, while holding still, we have time to better contemplate the very nature of traveling about. Why do we do it? What is the best way? I’ve been working on this post for months, and with the virus landscape in mind, I finally have some meaning behind my musings.

We move around the world in many ways, each with its own label and perceived baggage. When you travel, do you prefer to be a tourist or an explorer? To vacation or be a worldschooler? Or do you try to be a ‘family-timer’ when you travel? (That’s a term I’m particularly fond of, coined by our Swiss friends, read their blog here). Maybe you are someone who yearns to ‘live’ in a foreign place for a while, or perhaps you travel like a nomad, not really living anywhere at all. 

Travelers, Tourists, and Vacationers – Oh my!

Though you probably gravitate towards one description or another, most of us spend some time as each. 

Here’s how the FiveBackpacks Family sees itself:

We tend to classify tourists as the people who emerge from large busses with matching lanyards and too much luggage. We tease the ease and predictability of this mode of travel until we catch ourselves doing the same. In other words, when we follow our noses to an exciting place to visit, we realize that exciting places to visit are almost definitionally tourist attractions, and we meekly buy our over-priced tickets and get in line with everyone else.

We sometimes fancy ourselves as explorers who are blazing a rugged trail where no one has been before. But invariably, when we arrive, we find there is already someone there. Which to be frank, we are grateful for as it means there will be a comfortable place to stay and a restaurant willing to feed our weary selves. 

When we arrived in Kashgar, Xinjiang, China, we thought we were pretty cool and tough for venturing so far from the “tourist track.” That was until we met Mickey, a Taiwanese-Kiwi who had bicycled to China from Europe. Our third-class diesel train ride didn’t seem so tough anymore. Or was it second class?

We have worked hard not to be vacationers. Don’t misread me here—there is nothing wrong with vacationing. But, given that traveling is our full-time existence right now, it would be a bit much. A vacation is a break from a full and busy (and often stressful) life. It is meant to be relaxing and low key. But you can’t be on vacation day in and day out for months and even years on end. What would you be taking a break from? 

Nevertheless, when we were in Nha Trang, Vietnam, we unexpectedly found ourselves in a vacationer’s beach town. We took three days to relax on the beach, enjoying resort-style travel. It felt uncalled for, but in retrospect was a much-needed balance to some intense learning about Vietnam’s troubled past (adding “self-immolation” and “political assassination” to our sons’ vocabulary, as well as surfacing difficult questions about U.S. foreign policy). We realized that worldschooling is sometimes stressful work too, work which merits a vacation every now and again. 

As we rove around the planet, we find people who like to stay in one place—to live in a town for a while, to really understand the vibe. And we find others who move on and on like someone is chasing them. Sometimes we find ourselves in each of these proverbial boats. 

In Khabarovsk, Russia, we met so many locals and had such a full social calendar that we extended our stay. We went to Karate and Yoga classes. We were guests at an English school. Friends we met there took us hiking, out to dinner, for walks, and a festival. The owner of the English school drove us to the train station when we left—after breakfast at our favorite cafe where we took selfies with our regular barista. It felt like we had a home there, if only for a week or two. 

Meanwhile, through Central Asia, we flogged on as though the dogs of hell were after us. Every day was the same: wake up, spend several hours seeing the most amazing Silk Road era architecture and relics, then board a train for the next destination along our route. There were so many places that we wanted to see that we hardly saw any of them. It’s hard not to wonder what we might have seen or experienced if we had stayed longer in one of these amazing places. But, then again, we would then have to wonder what other sites we wouldn’t have seen if we had tarried. 

Through it all, we have been family-timers. 24/7. Perhaps that is the greatest blessing of traveling—whichever method you prefer—it gives you a chance to be with your family. We eat three meals a day together, except for the days when we eat four. More often than not, we share one tiny little hotel room with three little boys crammed into one bed (that’s not going to work for much longer). And we sit down together at the end of our best days, share the wonderful experiences we’ve had, and discuss where we should go next. 

But family time is not the be-all goal for travel. If it were, we would be locked in a cabin in the middle of nowhere (kind of like we are now). But that was never the plan. The plan was to travel—however you wish to subdivide the concept. The idea was to see the world and, even more importantly, to meet the people. And I think many of you understand the urge—understand the wanderlust and the curiosity that might drive one to wander around the world day after day. 

There are so many places to go, so many people to meet. We celebrated Seth’s birthday with Russian friends at a horse ranch; Jack’s was in Cambodia, celebrated with British and Japanese friends. For Leo’s birthday, serendipity led us to an English language school in Uzbekistan with our French friend; our Uzbek friends had a left-over cake from their engagement party and insisted we share it as his birthday cake. 

And I think that is why we travel around the world. Not just for the free cake, but also for the people that we meet. We have friends all around the world, and I’m so grateful for all of them. Our sons are seeing first hand one of life’s most important lessons: No matter where they are, how they live, or who they worship, people are people. 

And perhaps that is why COVID scares me so much. The death is awful. The economic pain is real. But what about travel? When this is over, will we open our borders again? Will people again travel around the world and meet each other? Or will we shut ourselves away? Will we be afraid of those from far away? 

I, for one, hope that the world will be open again. I hope that people will travel to meet loved ones and strangers. I hope that we will someday be comfortable shaking hands and hugging those around us. There are so many places I’m still excited to see, but more importantly, there are so many friends I look forward to making. 

So, wherever you are, be safe, be well. And think of a healthy future where we can all come together again.