There may be two types of people in the world. Michael, my husband, who doesn’t need to know everything about everyone - because he is part shy, part very busy and just simply, part private. And then there are people like me, who love nothing more than to get up in everyone’s business, and to share intimacies right away. The one breed, I think, might be more suited to be a travel writer than the other. And as Michael will point out, my sense for drama paired with a stranger, does always make for a better story...
Speaking of stories - I did a piece on the insane Drag Queen ban in Tennessee for SPIN magazine this week. Read that here.
Maybe this is why Joan Didion inspires me. She would, whilst traveling for a writing assignment, often be less interested in the subject she was commissioned to report on, and be more absorbed with lives she simply noticed from the corner of her eye. Like a child slowly jumping into a motel’s kidney shaped pool in New Mexico, or a Nicaraguan woman kicking a lonely cigarette vending machine that won’t hold up its side of the bargain. These characters, some whom she spoke to, and others she could merely observe - informed her travels, her ways of seeing the world. And as Didion says, “opened her up to even more of everything.”
Didion, also does this thing with her writing where she would juxtapose, as some critics call it “the hardware and the software.” Like, “a disposable needle in a Snoopy waste basket,” or “rattlesnakes in playpens.” And it’s that kind of attentiveness, combined with an openness to chat to anyone where I think travel’s magic sprawls. At home you’re more likely to be surrounded by your herd, but out in the wild - anyone, or everyone, is probably fair game.
So I absolutely do understand that sometimes your seatmate on your trans atlantic flight really does not want to talk to you for the next seven hours - and, yes, you can quickly sense those situations through body language, and some verbal cues. And I really do get it - some people are shy, and speaking to a stranger kicks in as some deep seated fear, one that I may never fully comprehend as a not-shy-extra chatty Cathy. And, of course, I grasp that there sometimes is an enormous language or cultural barrier that seems impenetrable. I am fluent in smile language for those situations.
But let me tell you that so many of my closest friends I have actually met on the road - by just chatting them up about something innoxious. Like a while back, on my flight to Jordan I met one of the smartest women I have ever spent time with. She works for the United Nations and has been stationed in Eritrea for more than a year. Eritrea, the North Korea of Africa, was finally opening up to the world she told me, and as a traveler it has always been a place I dreamed of spending time in. Well, she and I are now fast friends. She shared how in Eritrea, because of its Italian influence, there are cookies that may have been forgotten in Italy, but are still sold in cafes all over the capital, Asmara. And that she met the last Jew left in the country, who stays as a remembrance of his people’s time there. Of course, I am ready to book the next flight out.
But the friendships just keep coming. Michael and I also have two dear friends whom we met sharing a picnic table on a mountain in Utah. We now often travel with them, as we share the love for fun and games on the road. And when I was in Paris I made a best friend in a laundromat - because necessities whilst traveling bring people together. The other thing that fetters people, is tackling a challenge together - like my now dearest friend Ben, whom I shared a month in an Indian ashram with. We got through a silent retreat together, and our friendship was sealed.
As a matter of fact, ten of my closest friends, people whom I have shared years of friendship with, and continue to deeply love - I met at a little coffee shop called Origin in Cape Town. Today I am the godfather of their children, the chairman of the board of their organizations, and we are frequent travel companions. After going to this cafe every day and seeing the same people all the time, whilst marveling at their coffee and bagel orders, you have some camaraderie simply waiting to happen. My theory on speaking to just about anyone is that you have very little to lose. The gains seem to always be in your favor.
It’s true that sometimes it’s a little more difficult. For instance, when I noticed this woman next to me in the Admirals Club wearing two watches on the same wrist the other day. I happen to also own the exact same watch as one of hers. I commented, she spat at me. Not quite literally, but she didn’t want to chat - clearly. And so I just smiled. And a few minutes later she came over to tell me - it’s my husband’s watch, he has just died, and so I can’t stop wearing it. And there, in an Atlanta airport we shared a deep, and beautiful moment together. I offered her a moment in the world to share her pain, and hopefully that helped her in ways that I may never know.
We also now live in the age of travel apps. From the organizational ones, to the social ones, to those I don’t understand why they exist. And one of the many ways that I have always found it easy to make friends - or to make lovers while traveling when I was single - is to log into the app Grindr. This ubiquitous location-based app is designed for gay men, but there are thousands of similar apps for everybody else.
In my hometown of New York City millions of people use Grindr to skip the bar and meet people online. You see the orange and black screens on the subway, in line to get your dry cleaning and in the gym - and I know there is some grinding happening around me. But when I am traveling it becomes a tool to know where to go and find some locals. Take for instance, my recent trip to Amman, the capital of Jordan. A city where gays aren’t exactly welcome. In Middle East terms, Jordan’s anti-gay stance is probably less severe than other countries, but it still isn’t progressive enough for the LGBTQ community to fully come out. But where there is a push, there will always be a pull. So in places where homosexuality is frowned upon, in my experience, the underground scene is booming - like the secret clubs and parties in the UAE I sniffed out, and the crazy tea dances I went to in Pakistan.
Well I arrived in Jordan and logged into the Grindr app with my new friend whom I met on the plane. She’d never seen the app in action, so she was all eyes and ears. We parked ourselves at a little cafe where they served pour over coffee - my usual travel trick - and we let GPS show us who’s nearby. Soon enough we were chatting to some friendly Jordanian locals over the app. I did make it clear in my profile - traveling through, friendship only. One such local, who’s profile photo was of Queen Rania, was ready to come have a coffee with us. I’m no fool, so a public place made most sense. Soon enough, tall, dark and handsome Khaled arrived. He’s from Amman, works in media and writes a column for a local magazine - and his dream is to live in gay Paris. I asked him why he uses Grindr - and he said, as much as he knows many people use it for sex, he was more interested in making friends and building a community with gay friendly locals and people traveling to his city. I love that.
Our afternoon of sharing stories about our lives included how Khaled has a wife, and two little kids. He loves them, the way, I guess, someone loves a best friend, and he provides for them in a way that’s deeply caring. But he dreams of a life where he can be openly gay without his family ostracizing him. He says that his wife knows, and she’s supportive of his friendships on Grindr. But to him, it’s not a full expression of himself. And his heart is cracked.
At some point I excused myself to go and call my beloved. Khaled’s face sank slightly and he said, “I’ll never be able to do that. I’ll never have someone to call, who I’m in love with.” My stomach did butterfly flips and I felt such gratitude to be able to live, for the most part, in a free country where I can choose to openly love whomever I wish to. I shared this with Michael, and we sat over the phone for a moment of meditative contemplation - feeling appreciation for our life. And there it was, the reason I travel. For these tiny moments, often from strangers, that may seem insignificant but hold all the truths - both the good and the bad.
Soon enough the afternoon turned into making plans for the evening. Khaled mentioned we’re in luck - Wednesday evenings the bookstore across the street hosted a mingle night. We were, of course, in. And as mingle nights go, this one was a little different. First off it was a fake book reading. At the front of the room was a well dressed gentleman in a fedora at a little podium holding a copy of a book, he lifted it ever so slightly and I saw he was pretending to read from Michelle Obama’s biography. In front of him were rows of chairs, and every seat had a bum on it. And instead of anyone paying attention to the reader up front, they were all chatting in pairs. It was book store speed dating.
Khaled was already there and I noticed him chatting furiously to someone in the chair next to him. He was quietly laughing and seemed thrilled. Wednesday nights in Amman, who would have thought. People moved about the bookstore with their drinks in hand (drinking alcohol in Jordan is socially cool, so I noticed it’s pretty much all over Amman), the atmosphere festive and relaxed. Khaled spotted us and introduced us to some of his friends - including two Dutch tourists, a Canadian Aid worker stationed in Jordan, and a Brazilian martial arts teacher who was working with local farm communities. Apparently Kale was about to happen in Amman. Khaled had found his tribe - and so had we.
I often tell people to hit a gay bar when you’re traveling, whether you’re gay or not - because they will probably have superb music, and even better drinks. Or go find an Irish Pub, because they’re bound to have someone willing drink beer and play pool with you. Or I say, get yourself invited to an Indian wedding, because everyone is welcome and it’s a great way to meet festive people.
Travel is also conducive to games and turning any situation into a fun one. Like defending the decor which we learned from our friends, Little’s parents - it is especially handy at a badly decorated Florida Airbnb. Or you can learn to do just one karaoke song - because I cannot sing at all, I have Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash prepared for the occasion, because I think he may actually just be speaking slightly melodically. If you have one song in your pocket, you can hit any karaoke bar and find some people to hang out with - because the chances are everyone is as bad or good as you are. However Michael actually has an incredible voice and has recorded music, so he’ll always outdo me. But then I’ll just lament to someone within earshot, and it will be a big laugh...and bam another new friendship ensues.
Michael and I have our own little game we play when we travel - find the cheapest haircut on the planet. Granted he’s more reluctant than I am, and therefore I have ended up with some strange Vietnamese undercuts and half buzz cuts perfect for the Sponge Bob Square Pants broadway musical. Currently I hold the record with a $1 on the street hair job in Shanghai. I was literally sitting on a patio chair, under a plastic bag awning tent contraption, next to a tree, right on a sidewalk. The haircut was power, and I was served a vegetable broth whilst the artist went to work. Of course I smiled when I returned and saw the latest hipster hair place in New York charged $150 for a trim. If only they knew!
The pour over coffee example I use very often, is a fail safe - because if they do pour over coffee, they care about beans, and those are my kind of people. I think humans often work themselves into very niched tribes - like surfers who find their fellow surfers in Indonesia, and Dungeons and Dragons card players who do the same in little Britain. But I always think tribes should mix - so as much as I don’t golf, I am convinced I could find some interesting people to chat with at a golf club. And I have done that, complete with bright purple polo shirt and a quick Google to throw down some golf lingo, like Birdie and Par.
Even tribes you haven’t ever considered, But I know absolutely nothing about water acrobatics, or knitting, but whenever I walk by those classes people seem to be very willing for any newcomers. And soon enough strangers on the road are just friends you haven’t traveled with yet.
Always talk to strangers
You inspired me (yet again) to talk more to strangers while traveling. You never know what chance encounters might occur!