Imagine a train station. Imagine high ceilings, long hallways, and lighted boards constantly flickering, displaying destinations and times and platform numbers. Imagine directional signs guiding a person towards luggage storage, the ticket counter, the toilets, the exit, and the nearest metro station. Imagine escalators and stairs going in every direction, leading the masses to various platforms, through security checks, to local restaurant flavor and shopping for the traveler to nourish their needs and spending desires. Imagine flurries of people with suitcases, backpacks, pets, children, guidebooks, cell phones, and maps, meandering through such a scene, all in a hurry, trying to avoid all obstacles, human and inanimate, that may be in their frantic way.
Imagine a metro station. Imagine a dark tunnel, with one or two sets of rails parked in between opposite platforms. Imagine a row of ticket machines with lines of people in front of them, all fishing through their pockets for change as they navigate the 21st century touch screen. Imagine the crowds pouring down the escalators from upper to lower levels, and the stairways packed with people moving at a slow pace that allows no one to be in much of a hurry. Imagine rows of turnstiles checking your purchased ticket that's small enough to be impossible not to lose, with all but two of the turnstiles in either direction out of order. Imagine colorful maps and color-coated signs directing the masses to the correct destination and line. Imagine trains that run on time and follow the "every two minutes" time clock on the one board per tunnel, but train cars that are so packed that you can often forget about sitting down, in fact, you're always breathing in the flavor of someone else's chewing gum, your hands slip due to the humidity of so many people from the bars that are meant to help stabilize as the train weaves through the winding tunnels, all the while you're wishing you could be one of the people only carrying a purse instead of the giant backpack your current lifestyle demands.
These days, these are the places I live.
And these are my neighbors, the people I sit next to but never speak with, the people whose personal space I have invaded and they've invaded mine but we've never introduced ourselves, the people I've spent hours with going from one country to another but have never known what their passions are or who their dearest friends are, nor do they know this information about me.
These are my neighbors, and half the time, I don't even see them. Perhaps they don't even see me. (Although, when Alex and I have the backpacks on, everyone sees us.) This isn't an animous or bitter observation, because especially on the metro, we aim to go unseen. Not only can it be awkward to make eye contact, but you're focused on going from point A to point B, you're counting the stops until yours, and a person hardly has time to concern themselves with who else is riding the same metro. People on the metro avoid eye contact, put on their headphones, stick their noses in books; they stay in their own world for the same reason I dress even more conservatively than I do back home: we don't want to be noticed. We're aiming for invisibility.
And this makes sense in the context. You're on your way to or from work, your mind is in another place, you're trying to get something done, etc. Perhaps it's purely an effort to mentally use the time efficiently, or it could be that after a long and trying day, it's nice to get some quiet and not have to interact for your 30 minute commute home. Perhaps you just don't want to be a possible victim of the common theft that often occurs in such places.
The invisibility can be quite appealing, I imagine. Whether traveling from city to city or enjoying the personal seclusion of the crowded metro, you're never really staying long enough for people to actually see you, or for any sort of responsibility or ownership to settle in. We've been traveling for over two months now, and honestly, we make new friends every single day. But even if we spend a few days exploring cities and sharing in laughs with these people, we don't ever get the pleasure of really getting to know their depth, or letting them know ours.
And the cities, don't even get me started on how much we don't see in each city and country. It's impossible to do unless you have months and years of time to dedicate to each. When backpacking, time really only allows you to scratch the surface with people and places, and honestly, you really only get to wave at them, then bid them the best of luck in their travels.
Most of the time, this is acceptable, at least to us. Because we're on a mission to see places and keep moving, and it's not all that sad to leave things behind with such a bright future ahead. But then again, every once in a while you meet someone, or you encounter a place, and leaving doesn't become so easy anymore.
Did you know that when you ride the metro, you purchase a ticket in the denomination of "journeys"? Meaning, you can purchase one "journey", or you can purchase, let's say, 10 "journeys", which is a handy purchase for the tourist/traveler such as we are.
But one "journey" is defined as the distance from where you first enter the metro, to where you last exit the metro. That being said, a "journey" could consist of riding only one line, if that's all it takes to get to where you're going, or it could involve two or three metro lines, and multiple interchanges. From when you first enter the metro system to when you eventually exit, this is all under the definition of one, single "journey."
So theoretically, if a person had the time and desire, for the small price of a "one journey" ticket, one could just ride the metro all day long, never exiting to return up above to the hustle and bustle of life, never getting off at a stop to go out and participate in the world around. A person could just keep on riding the metro, to their heart's content.
Come to think of it, it seems entirely possible that a person could spend their entire life on the hypothetical metro, never getting off at any stop, never actually participating in a life where people see you and know you.
I suppose you could be anyone on the metro, or while traveling. The other day, we were at a hostel in Lisbon, and the 47762657th person asked me what I would do when I went home/what I did when I wasn't traveling. Instead of giving them the honest epic tale briefly telling of 2-3 years searching for purpose and enlightenment, which is still ongoing, I thought I'd spare this stranger/potential friend the bore, and instead provide some lightheartedness between us. So I simply responded,
"I'm a ninja."
And without missing a beat, he was clever enough to respond with comments about the job security of such a career and his personal struggle with tapping into such a secretive job market. It's always a good day when you find someone so quick-witted and easygoing as that with which to banter.
But the thought then occurred to me how easy this would be to do everywhere. One city I could play the ninja card, then next city or country I'm an underwater basket weaver, another I'm a pirate on leave, and the next perhaps my life consists of circus performances and finely tuned trapeze skills.
And like the hypothetical metro, I would remain in a perpetual state of invisibility, because no one would ever actually get to know who I really am.
For the last 6-7 years, I've lived a life that many would consider nomadic. Never quite satisfied with where I was, the place and the path I was pursuing continued to change every few months or year. A mentor once said I was simply having trouble adjusting to the point in life where it was time to lay down roots. But at this news I was appauled - I had no intention, at the time of that conversation, to lay down any roots anywhere. It wasn't that I was having trouble adjusting, it was that I was adamantly rejecting the idea! That was 3 years ago. Now, I'm beginning to see that traveling is teaching me what it really means to be somewhere, and the type of place I'd really like to be, what it means to really get to know a place, a city, etc, not to mention the type of person I'd really like to be. (Yes, a ninja.)
Traveling can be so glamorous, but as we move from place to place I begin to hear the Postal Service's cold words in the back of my head, "I am a visitor here, I am not permanent..."
I think after a while it will be time to get off the hypothetical metro, and hopefully we all find a place where we can do so. There's something very beautiful about finding your way home, to the people that you'd like to let go of the invisibility for. I suppose it can be frightening, letting down one's guard, because what if they don't like what they see, or we don't like who we really are behind the fun and entertaining "ninja" mask? But to have a place where people know you, where you're really seen in a deep and powerful way, can be the most incredible feeling and reality to discover. I know there is great beauty to be found in places I can visit. But what can be said about the beauty of a place you don't want to leave?
Perhaps we're all trying to get home, to a place where we can let down our guard, and be visible, to people. Except I wonder, if you ride the hypothetical metro long enough, do you forget how to be anything but invisible?
If you know and see me, you can inspire me, encourage me, support me, cry with me, laugh with me, gently help me see my faults and blind spots, grow with me, and share in all things that life entails with me. If I know and see you, I have the great pleasure of doing the same, and I can share in your life with you. But as exciting as it can be to constantly be on the move, unless we get off the metro and dig in somewhere, we will never be able to experience more than this surface level joy with people, or with the places we visit.
It doesn't even have to be literal travel. Like I said, the metro could be hypothetical. Proximity to someone does not automatically mean depth of relationship, and your literal neighbors could be just as foreign to you as those I ride the metro with daily. On the other side, there are those that I do not currently see at all that know my heart more deeply than everyone else on the planet. I think, like in the case of the metro or the ninja question, it all depends on how much we let someone else see into who we really are, and if we're actually listening when someone decides to let us see who they really are.
My hope is that whatever our travels may be, we are learning what it means to dig in to a place, to fully be known to people and to fully know people, to stop 'flirting with life' and to start building solid relationships and legacies. Because it is becoming increasingly obvious that it is people that make up the stories worth telling, that make the memories worth reliving, and that make the journey and places come to life.
"Everybody's talkin' in words I don't understand
You've got to be the only one who knows just who I am...
Cause you make it real to me" -James Morrison
"We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend." -Robert Louis Stevenson
“Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.’” –Lisa St. Aubin de Teran
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