Long ago, I discovered that one of my true passions is traveling around the world, both to big and small places. I have yet to explore most of the countries that exist on our planet, and I also recognize that the clock is ticking, so I may run out of time to do so. But I will keep trying. Traveling is an enriching and perspective-building experience for me; I love to discover new towns and cities, to observe how people live, what they eat, and the streets they walk around in their daily life. I do feel a jolt of joy from the moment I’m sitting at the gate impatiently waiting to board my flight, up to the moment I have to return back to the reality of daily life, already thinking about where I’ll go next.
Traveling also involves mundane and sometimes less exciting tasks like paying for airfare or plotting the car ride on a map, packing, and all the other logistics involved. I am both an overplanner and overpacker, to the point that I list all my outfits based on the daily weather forecast and spend hours selecting which seat on the plane will cause me the least pain or the most satisfaction – which depends on the type of trip too: business, pleasure, or a mix of the two.
Despite the fact that I will run out of time to discover all the places I dream of visiting in my lifetime, and that I don’t get to travel much these days of corporate-driven time off and the anchoring of adult life, I treasure any opportunity to travel not only for leisure, but also as a way of learning and exploration. After all, I’m a learning professional for a reason: I love discovery, curiosity, variety, and what is most deeply human. The other aspect I have come to appreciate during those times when I’ve been compressed between uncomfortable bodies in an airborne metal tube is getting to know people whom I have been randomly “destined” to sit next to in such confined spaces. This is also part of the travel experience I’ve learned to savor as much as the local scene I get to discover during my trips. For some reason, my memory keeps these moments of connection alive and well in its sometimes spotty archives. I think it may be because I feel most alive when I travel, along with other favorite activities that involve creative exploration and spending time in good company. As I think about it, traveling connects all these dots for me.
Sharing space with others in an airplane can feel like going solo to a conference or dinner party with assigned seating and wondering if you were assigned to the cool kids table or the one with the awkward guests. When flying, however, it’s less likely that you will have a common interest with your fellow seat mates as it would be the case in a conference or social event. And herein lies the serendipity of getting to know the stranger next to me, even for a few minutes if we happen to show any interest in making eye contact or acknowledging the human who’s sitting next to us. I must confess that sometimes I’m in the mood for that, but not so much at other times, and I’ve taken many flights where I could not even describe the person who sat next to me for a couple of hours. But when an impromptu exchange happens, the conversations can feel transformative, and sometimes almost magical.
One time in my earlier travel days I struck up a brief conversation with a man named Ben, an analyst with a big global financial firm. Based on previous experiences flying for business and sitting with other businesspeople, I would have expected him to be an aloof “finance guy” who would busily tap into his keyboard writing reports until landing while avoiding the fluff of a casual chat. Conversely, he ended up sharing sweet stories about his family, who was eagerly waiting for him at our final destination. There was also the strange-looking, deeply religious woman I sat next to during another flight. She was stuck in the middle seat as a last-minute traveler, and got little sympathy from other passengers when she had trouble stowing her bag under the seat. Even though I thought I may regret it, I did what I could to help her, and she proceeded to shower me with blessings and emotion-filled prayers.
The first time I realized that I had much to learn from meeting strangers on airplanes took place on a flight from Calgary to Denver, over a decade ago. I was coming fresh from a week of business meetings, still wearing my business suit and thinking about all the corporate-laden discussions I had engaged in for days. As I relaxed in my comfortable extra-legroom seat, I saw a man fully dressed in hunting gear approaching my row, and I thought “please don’t sit next to me.” And of course, destiny had set it that way – had I not learned??? I immediately judged him in my head for ending the lives of wild animals that had done nothing to him, “and for what?” I thought. I don’t remember how or why we started a conversation, but in our initial exchange some curiosity sparked in me and we spoke about his hunting, his family life, and why he does what he does. My prejudice and sense of intimidation melted away and I ended up enjoying a thoughtful conversation with a person who did justice to the word gentleman. A charming and gentle man in full camo? Yes, indeed. Such an event brought to life for me the commonplace advice to never judge a book by its cover. I don’t want to be judged by my cover anyway, so why would I do that to others? And who gave me the right? That taught me a big lesson about challenging my assumptions and biases.
One of my most memorable moments meeting a fellow traveler took place when I sat next to a frail-looking elderly man during a flight from Chicago to Zurich. This time I was going on vacation and had scraped together a bunch of soon-to-expire miles that were the last remnants from my corporate travel days. Upon finding my assigned seat, I must confess that I immediately lamented in my head having to sit next to him; he looked like he was going to be a handful and my spoiled little ego complained in a way that I’m not proud of. He seemed sickly and I started wondering if he was too unhealthy to take the long-haul flight. Our first interaction took place when he could not get his bottle of pills open, hands shaking too much to keep the contents from falling out. I gingerly offered to open it for him, and he allowed me to step in and help. What I experienced next changed my entire perspective for the rest of my adventurous trip and beyond. His eyes were vivacious and he had a melodic Irish accent. He told me that he was going to see his son, whom he hadn’t visited for quite a while. He also told me beautiful stories about living in exotic places in the Caribbean, loving amazing women, and having a life of adventure. That aged body could not conceal the liveliness in those still-young eyes or darken the colorful scenes in his stories. Oh how he opened my eyes that day! For me, getting to know that man brought unexpected wonder, which set the tone for a trip where I, for once, had not planned much and was going with the flow. This time I would take chances and decide on train routes and hotel stays across Switzerland pretty much last-minute for the next several days. Our conversation certainly added richness to that time of adventure and discovery.
Getting to know strangers on planes has become a rare occurrence that happens quite naturally, but only when the conditions are right and my seat neighbor and I are both similarly open and curious. The biggest lesson I have learned through these moments is that everyone has a story worth knowing about, and sometimes what appears dull, strange, or intimidating at first can give way to insightful discoveries that last a lifetime. These encounters have only given me snapshots of people’s lives which I don’t pretend to fully know. In fact, no lasting friendship has ever been forged during these relatively short periods of time. Still, the snapshots have created a beautiful album of memories and important lessons in my mind, also part of the many mementos from my travels. This has made me realize more than ever that remaining curious and withholding judgment – at least until others behave badly and confirm our mostly unfounded suspicions – can open the door to possibilities. Life tends to put people on our path that we may not initially want to meet and, if we lower our walls of resistance just enough to let them in, we will realize just how much we needed to do so.
