About Travel – I

travel-twain

Twain is right, but I would add a small correction (later). And I was impressed to learn that the author of Huckleberry Finn and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer – which I read as a boy and inspired me to run away from home more than once – also travelled to India, as I had, and allowed its multiple traumas and trances to fall over his soul. No one comes back the same, although some may happen upon its more degenerate sectors, and judge it all from the gutter. Still, India remains (as does much of China, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Ethiopia and Myanmar) one of few reserves in our violently modern world where you can still experience what it was like to live within rhythms of ritual liesure and along stretches of geography unvisited by the haste of programmed intervention (whether from Market or from Marx).

I grew up in Kansas, about as far from foreignness as you can get in modern geography. The incredible beauties of Mexico – just a thousand miles away (closer than the route to California, or even to New York) – were never even mentioned as possible vacation destinations for our family outings.  I was left with the impression – through no fault of my parents (who simply consumed the media’s report on all things ‘non-American’) – that south of the Rio Grande you would only find insufferable heat, incessant revolutions, violence, and governments run by families (like the Adams, Roosevelts, Kennedys, Bushes, Clintons…. oops, sorry– I am trying to remember the names of the Latin American dynasties….no luck). At any rate, it was a foregone conclusion that we had better stay up here north of the boundary if we want to enjoy the benefits of democracy.

Well, my biography seemed to already be projected in international terms.  I had a lady friend in Kansas who offered once to do my horoscope, and as I was then (as now) skeptical of such things, I let her cast my scope as a kind of lark. I read through it sympathetically (not wanting to hurt her feelings), and noted a large number of perhaps statistically foreseeable coincidences, but then my eyes fell upon a detail that was obviously so far from even the most modest expectations for the life of a Midwestern kid, I only laughed.  It said I would travel much.