I was standing in line ready to check into my flight from Lima to Mexico City, and this guy stepped in line behind me. It was clear from first sight that he was a nomad — not just a backpacker, but a nomad. I took one look at his worn Deuter ACT Trail rucksack and asked, “how long have you had your backpack?” What a strange question, Emma! He didn’t quite understand me at first, and I had to repeat my question: “how long have you had your backpack?” He eventually gathered what I was asking and replied “10 years” with a smile. I smiled back and turned around to reveal my red Deuter ACT trail backpack and said, “10 years for me.”
My nomad-dar for detecting fellow nomads was accurate as usual, but what’s even crazier was that he was taking almost the exact same route as I was across the Pacific! Mexico City — California — Singapore — Thailand. I mean, come on, universe!
This scenario, to an extent, was not the first time it has happened to me. In today’s global world, there are bound to be others like me — like you. We see them working in the cafes, walking down the streets, and boarding yet another plane. Our eyes may or may not lock, we may or may not interact, but we know we are connected — connected by the energy of travel, of exploration, of pursuit. What if every time we saw someone we thought was a fellow nomad, we asked a different question rather than “where are you from?” What if, instead, we start asking “how long have you had your backpack?” or “where are you headed?” or “where did you get that travel yoga mat?” You see, I know how important that ‘where are you from’ question is to most people. But the problem is, we are no longer from where we are from.
I am a Canadian but I haven’t been “from” Canada in a very long time — Canadiense pero no Canada. And I bet your bottom dollar that this guy in my airport line is no longer from where he was from either. We are all nomads. Yes, you may not agree with me, but the question becomes what degree of nomad are you? If you moved twice in your life, are you a nomad? If you moved 7 times in your life but only in your home country, are you a nomad? If you have never left your childhood home, but have travelled to over 50 countries, are you a nomad?
Perhaps the question is not whether or not you are a nomad, but more “Am I a nomad?” Maybe it has everything to do with how we ourselves define what we are. Is this the most important question we will ask ourselves in our lifetime? Perhaps not. But is it something we might want to ask ourselves a bit more, or something we can use to re-define the mundane question of “where are you from?”
What opening line would you use if you couldn’t ask someone where they were from, or while we are at it, “what they DO?” That’s a ridiculous question too, but I’ll save the topic for another piece.
Follow up: I caught up with this guy after the flight and read him the above. Just as I finished reading him the piece, the young Peruvian guy in front of us turned around and asked, “where are you from?” Then he commented on what an interesting conversation we were having. It was his first time travelling abroad and he was excited for his semester in Guadalajara studying tourism. So there we stood, in line for immigration, two full nomads and a new traveller, and the day was perfect.
Photos in order: Camino de Santiago 2007; Mozambique 2011; Machu Picchu 2017
