How We Go
In Santa Teresa, I struck up a conversation with Rosario, an ice cream vendor who thanked me for speaking Spanish. She mentioned how many expats live there for years without learning even a few words of the language. Her gratitude wasn’t just about the effort, it was about being seen and respected in her own country.
Contrast that with the scene I witnessed at a chain hotel breakfast in San Jose: a group of older Americans treating the staff like servants, one woman snapping “Excuse me, I was here first, can you please get me my tea?” when the staff was clearly waiting for a replenishment. The impatience, the sense of superiority, the complete lack of awareness of where they were and who they were interacting with.
Travel strips away our familiar environments and reveals who we really are. When everything is different, when we can’t rely on our usual patterns and privileges, our true character emerges. Some people rise to the occasion, becoming more curious, more humble, more open. Others double down on entitlement, treating foreign countries like theme parks designed for their convenience.
The best travelers I’ve met approach new places with genuine curiosity. They ask questions, they try the food, they attempt the language even if they butcher it. They understand that being a guest in someone else’s country is a privilege, not a right. They see differences as opportunities to learn rather than inconveniences to overcome.
The worst travelers export their expectations everywhere they go. They complain when things don’t work exactly like home, demand that everyone accommodate their preferences, and treat local customs as quaint obstacles to their comfort. They’re not really traveling, they’re just relocating their bubble to a more scenic location.
Travel has this amazing ability to teach us about the world, but only if we’re willing to be students. When we approach it with humility and openness, we come back richer, more empathetic, more aware of our place in the larger human story. When we approach it with arrogance and entitlement, we just confirm our existing prejudices in new locations.
The choice is ours every time we step off a plane, enter a restaurant, or interact with someone whose language we don’t speak. We can be ambassadors of curiosity and respect, or we can be walking stereotypes of ugly tourism.
At least I know which traveler I want to be, even if I don’t always succeed.