Traveling con Contexto

Traveling con Contexto

Traveling as a First Gen, Mexican American in today’s political climate.

I landed in Bocas del Toro, Panama on the day the US government kidnapped a sitting president of a sovereign country. Waking up to those headlines that morning at Albrook Inn in Panama City was a shock to my system. The New York Times breaking news headline was the first thing I saw when I rolled over in bed to snooze my alarm – I didn’t click on it. I locked my screen, took a deep, controlled breath, chanting “don’t get triggered, don’t get triggered” in my head. I laid there, staring at the ceiling for minutes holding back the thought: “what the actual fuck”.

The abduction of Nicolas Maduro is complicated. Venenzualen people have every right to feel how they feel, celebrate in relief if that feels right. None of us get to impose permission on or condemn their reactions if we have not lived over a decade under Maduro’s atrocious authoritarian regime. I do however have my own context. As an American-born Mexicana who travels extensively, my identity impacts how I travel and how I interact with locals. It also informs the way I view my impact on other places and people.

The invasion of Venezuela is just the most recent example of US imperialism and intervention in sovereign countries, but it feels like a good place to ground the launch of this Traveling con contexto blog.

I’ve been lucky enough to visit 22 countries in my life – most of them in the last 10 years – and every time I learn something new about people, myself, and the world at large. 

Several years ago, when I was living in Madrid, a well-meaning professor could not control his urge to make my marginalized identities the center of the conversation in a 70+ student lecture hall. Every day it was: “la mexicana americana” who speaks almost perfect *Latin American* Spanish despite growing up in the states, attends UC Berkeley against all odds, and is here with us now… what do you think about blah blah blah. I was forced to (1) recognize the weight my existence carries when I enter a space and (2) accept that my presence impacts the places I visit whether I want it to or not. 

Context matters. 

As a traveler, I haven’t been to Venezuela yet, but I’ve met Venezuelan immigrants throughout Latin America. Innocent people who have had to flee their country out of fear and a need for self-preservation. People who’ve shared their stories, their desire for safety, and hopes of one day being able to return to a restored Venezuela. In 2022, while in Bogotá exploring La Candelaria, we came across a woman and her little boy. She was selling handcrafted jewelry and children’s outfits. They had just arrived from Venezuela and were trying to acclimate to Colombia. At one point she mentioned how expensive the city was and she expressed concern they wouldn’t be able to stay, likely moving towards Cali soon. Meanwhile, all I could think of was the conversation I’d had the previous night with my friend about how incredibly affordable everything had been so far and day dreaming of taking a year off to live here. I felt guilty, even though I hadn’t contributed to this woman’s situation. I purchased a ring, despite never wearing jewelry, and a top for my niece before moving on. I still wonder about her and her family. I hope they made it.

Feeling guilty about your own reality isn’t useful. It’s heart breaking to hear stories of struggle like this in contrast to your own situation, uncomfortable even, but these stories are important. They remind us that we aren’t the center of the universe and that perspective taking is essential in a global society. That’s what we live in now – a global society. The internet and social media have transcended barriers in an irrevocable way, and AI is only going to expand that further.

Learning to live with contradictory emotions isn’t simple or easy. For me, I manage it through conscious traveling. I don’t travel like a tourist or a vacationer (yes, I like to do touristy things and I have been on vacation once or twice); most of the time you’ll hear me say “I’m traveling,” not I’m “on vacation”. Traveling implies cultural enrichment and connection, vacation implies rest and relaxation. While I’m traveling, I’m meeting people, observing and absorbing the lessons within the cultures I encounter on these travels; always mindful of the impact my presence has on the existing community. In these moments, I’m focused on learning to be a good neighbor, a better person, a more empathetic human, and a less self-centered American. 

When I return from a new place, I’m different. The people and the spaces have changed me. Those experiences are a constant reminder that we’re all just humans trying to live our lives with a lot more in common than it might appear on the surface. This feels even more important right now with a nationalist authoritarian regime taking hold of the US and impending threats from said regime to invade neighboring countries.

In the travel category of this blog, I’ll be sharing the context behind the beautiful parts of travel; the people I’ve met, the cultural norms that contrast the ones that exist in the US, and how it feels to be a traveler with a complex identity: Mexican. American. Woman. First Gen. Enjoying every part of the experience.