Jillian's July Post: Paying it Forward

People sometimes ask me about the value of changing their life. I say it's not just for them; it’s for all of those they will touch, directly and indirectly. When I wrote Change Your Life Through Travel, my secret hope then, and now, was Change Your Life Through Travel, Change the World through Understanding.

Peter’s story from Change Your Life Through Travel provides a simple example of how our impact can begin to spiral.

I’ve included the full story here for those of you who don’t yet own Change Your Life Through Travel. For those of you who do, I hope it’s a valuable reminder of how our journeys can help us "pay it forward."

Paying It Forward

"When I graduated from business school, my mother wanted to buy me a fancy watch. And I didn’t want one," Peter said. "I said I wanted to take a trip. My mother was opposed to the trip. My father supported it. My mom said she wanted to give me something I would remember forever. My father said, 'If we send him on this trip, he will remember it forever.'"

Peter, now a successful financial manager, would travel for six weeks, mostly alone, through Central and East Africa. And, while in Tanzania, he joined a group for part of the trip. "There were two drivers in our group," Peter said, "one of them was named Mohammed. I was the only single person, so I got to be sort of friendly with this guy. And one of the first days we were in a real town, Mohammed said, 'Let's go have a drink.' I said, 'Oh, you're Muslim, you don't drink.' And he said, 'You're Jewish, do you eat pork?' And I said, 'Sometimes.' And he said, 'Well, I'm Muslim and I've been known to have a drink.'

"So we became thick friends in a very short amount of time," Peter said. "And, at the end of the trip, I was going to have this layover in Nairobi and Mohammed invited me to come home with him.

"So I got to spend thirty–six hours in a village, in a real Masai village. I was welcomed by his family. I slept on the ground. I ate what they ate. I drank what they drank. There was a pretty big celebration, having an outsider there. I was fascinated. I would've gone lion hunting with the kids if they had let me. I sat next to the village elder, who spoke not a lick of English, because it was my place of prominence as a guest. I ate a goat meat stew that was so spicy –– and I like spicy foods –– that my eyes were running, and, ultimately, I got so violently ill that you don't even want to know about it. I also drank this special homemade honey wine that was like a hallucinogenic. It was spiritual. The whole experience was very, very spiritual," Peter said.

Why was it so spiritual?

"These people have no real commerce, no income," Peter said. "The government does show up once in a while to give them money, which is almost meaningless. These are people that are living off the land. And they are so happy. I'm sure they have stress. How they're going to eat, or drink, or take care of their families, or get new shoes, meet their basic needs. But these are really pure, happy people. They get up in the morning and they have a smile on their faces. And they’re nice to everybody; it’s just amazing. Even the old people don’t look so old."

So, after Peter’s privileged experience, what was his most poignant memory from his thirty–six hours there?

"How happy the kids were," Peter replied. "Every kid had this big, beautiful smile. And the minute they saw me their faces would light up," he said. "I'm talking about kids who had no toys and no TVs. They're running around barefoot, half–naked, playing games with sticks. And they're just laughing and having a great time."

Today, some of these experiences seem to have translated into Peter’s own life. "I want my kids to live in the moment, and be appreciative," he said. "At Christmas, Ellen and I took them to this place called the Lydia Home, which is an orphanage for older kids –– my kids' age. And these kids come from really, really bad situations. I take my kids there because I want them to see what the real world is all about."

Also part of Peter's "obsession with creating good kids" is to "totally de–emphasize all material possessions in front of my children," he said. "Like a new car is not a big deal, a new shirt's not a big deal. So that these kids don't get obsessed with material possessions." As Peter spoke, it seemed to me that his trade of a watch for a travel experience that turned spiritual still ripples in his life today.

During the weekend between our two–part interview, Peter's five–year–old son, Nicky, who "had no idea that you and I had been talking about this," came to his dad and asked, "Where are your Africa pictures?"

Coincidentally, Peter's wife, Ellen, recently had begun creating photo albums of their years of travels. So, that Saturday, Nicky crawled into bed with his father and they looked at Peter’s photographs, again. "He loves looking through the pictures," Peter said. "I think he's interested. He sits and he stares at them, and asks a million questions. And, from reviewing that book, Nicky was obsessed all the next day. He went online to Google Images and made his own photo album of animal pictures. And he’s already started to ask when he can go to Africa."

As we started to wrap up our interview, Peter grew quiet for a moment. "These experiences, which you're making me think about now, I wonder, What good are they? It's sort of selfish to say, 'Well, I just wanted to see the world.' But they taught me valuable lessons," he said. "In fact, it just hit me in the middle of the conversation that the meaning of this –– the opportunity that I had to go away –– is: if I hadn't taken those trips, I know I wouldn't be the person I am today. And I think that is going to end up making me a better parent," Peter said. "And, hopefully, my kids will become better people for it."