The sensation

As I am sitting in the airport, waiting for the departure, I am often amazed by the mix of emotions, feelings and affects that are brimming inside me with the start of a new journey. As a marine biologist, who has a kind of nerdy love for quantifiable and statistically feasible data, I find it a bit hard to get my head around these three concepts “emotions”, “feelings” and “affects”. Let me try to explain. As I walk through the passport check-point, waving a last goodbye to my family, friends, boyfriend or whoever is standing there, I feel a slightly bit sad. “Sad” is the emotion I encounter. At the same time, I feel a tension in my stomach and sometimes I can even feel a few tears gathering behind my eyes. Those bodily sensations are my “feelings”. The tears are disappearing easily with some blinking though, and I inconspicuously try to look around me – a bit embarrassed (an emotion!) – to see if anyone noticed. The tension in my stomach is also partly due to the excitement and I start to think about the adventures and new experiences that await me. The plenty of time before boarding leaves enough time for anticipation, which is an emotion that involves excitement and perhaps a tinge of anxiety. Will I be in time to catch my next plane? Will my luggage arrive? Did I pack everything I need and – oh no, did I forget to pack the charger for the batteries of my camera? A brief moment of chaos and the contents of my hand luggage scattered over the floor gives me the relief I was looking for; of course, I had put it in a special pocket to be able to find it quickly.

“Sad”, “embarrassed” and “excited” are all a state of mind to which we can give a name: the name of the emotion. Sometimes we are conscious about how we feel, but there are rarely moments in which we feel only one emotion. And we cannot always give a name to our mood or how we feel. Those are the “affects”. When I finally enter the plane and I feel the small “hop” when the wheels loose contact with ground, ascending in the air, I can say that I am affectively enjoying all the feelings and emotions that make a journey such a wonderful sensation.

The sensation of starting a new journey becomes bigger when looking
out the window and seeing Earth so far below me.

The study

            My latest big travel experience has brought me to Norway. While the country itself was my purpose, it was not the tourism I was specifically coming for, but the academic credits. I lived in Bergen, which they call the rainiest city in Europe (in my experience that wasn’t quite true), to follow marine biology courses at the university. That doesn’t mean I did not do tourist-activities. I think it even allowed me to experience the culture more thoroughly. Studying in another country – and hence doing tourism in a completely different way – has learnt me a great deal. It taught me not only academic skills and knowledge, but also about being part of a different culture. In that way, learning is not only a reason to travel, but travelling as a reason to learn.

            Coming month I will travel to St Eustatius as part of a research team with the goal to invest marine biodiversity. Going to an area of the world I have not explored yet, it will be a completely different experience. I cannot wait to pick up my bag again and get in that travel-flow again.  

Enjoying sunset on a research vessel during one of my trips on the North Sea I did for my studies.

The sustainability

That I met a lot of nice people on my journeys does not mean I liked all of them - sex tourists least of all. This type of tourism I was unfortunately encountered with quite often in the southern part of Cambodia, where middle-aged men could “buy” young local girls, consuming them as if they were an object. Not something I regard as sustainable tourism, meaning that it doesn’t leave a positive impact on the environment or society.            

There are also more sustainable ways of tourism in Asia of course, volunteer tourism being one of them. Activities such as teaching English, or helping to clean up the environment might not have a huge impact on the entire country, but locally can affect people in a positive way.

In North Norway, Sámi tourism is expanding sector of indigenous tourism. The Sámi are a nomadic people originally inhabiting the arctic region. Traditionally they are involved in reindeer herding, but nowadays this often is not sufficient to provide for all livelihood. Tourism provides many Sámi with jobs and enables them to preserve their cultural heritage, but it might also result in frustration by the way they are handled by the tourism industry. When I met a Sámi woman, who lived near the Lofoten with her reindeer herd and also ran a tourist-company, she didn’t seem irritated. “The tourists have fun with the reindeer sleigh, and we have fun because the tourists look funny”, she told me.

Tourism should be sustainable, but the question is how. I think treating each other as persons, not as “local”, “tourist” or “object”, treating each other the same way you would like to be treated yourself, is a small step in the right direction.   

A Sámi woman feeding her reindeers. 

The people

During my travels I have become acquainted with many different kinds of people, both tourists and locals. I have made friends all over the world with whom I shared many stories, cultural differences, conversations and cheerful laughs. They often offered me a different kind of view on the world and how life can be lived. One of my strangest meetings was when I was invited by locals for a party. When I arrived, it turned out to be a funeral party. I was a little bit shocked, but the life-size cardboard statue in the garden of the deceased person told me it was not a joke. The party was crowded with people who were enjoying food and no one seemed particularly sad – it all felt very strange to me. My friends explained to me that this was their way of honouring the deceased. The more people that commemorated their friend, the better chance his soul would have for a blissful next life. With such a party, they actually give the deceased person a guaranteed ticket to a happy reincarnation. Sometimes the family even invites a stripper to funeral parties to attract more people. The feeling of absurdity faded away and I started to understand that, though very different from how it is done in Europe, this was just another way to grieve. A perfect example of how exchanging culture with other people helped me develop a better understanding about the social world and came to criticize apparent truths (this is called “social constructionism”; for those interested in the concept). 

A very nice way to meet locals – whether you travel alone or together – is couchsurfing. The concept is very simple: people offer you their couch to sleep (or bed…living room…palace) when you visit their country and you can do the same when you are in your home town. It is more than a place to spend the night though; the host often takes up the role of tour guide. I went couchsurfing when I was travelling in the polar circle of Norway and stayed both with students and families. The best one was when I could stay on a cruise ship. I have spent a great deal of time with my hosts watching whales and hunting for northern lights.  

The friendships do not always last, but the people sure do brighten up your trip and the new experiences are the best souvenirs. 

A local party with local drinks – including dried snake. 

The story

Stories are an innate part of people. Every culture has its own forms of myths, epics and poems. Going to Norway, I thought I would learn a lot about Vikings and familiarize with the Edda. I was mistaken; the only time I encountered the Edda, was when I passed a big ship in the industrial site of the harbour that was named after the prose. Sometimes myths are a bit harder to find in the modern world.

Despite that, travelling is never without stories. Every person has his or her own tales – tales they like to tell. Tourists naturally have a narrativistic approach. Having a good story to tell is not one of my main reasons for travelling, but being part of a story is.

To communicate with my friends and family back home while living in Sri Lanka, Cambodia and Norway, I kept a travel blog. Perhaps a quite postmodernistic approach – due to the central role of internet and mass-communication – but it is very effective when living far away.

In addition I wrote a travel diary. Though this was not meant to communicate with anyone, I wrote it (without the intention) as if it were supposed to be read by someone else. With descriptions of cities and food and richly illustrated with maps, tickets and cards it almost appears to be a travel guide. But then a personal travel guide, with my own stories. When I read my diaries now, on a rainy day, I remember every little detail of it and I can drift off – dreaming of exotic places and stunning fjords.

A collage from bits and pieces of my travel diaries

The food

Having to choose a travel destination for my first outside-Europe experience was easy: Asia - because of the food. I was not disappointed: I have spent hours wandering along markets, tasting all that looked different. I have tried everything – from delicious saffron pancakes and curries to snake, beetles and things I cannot even put a name on. Apart from the food itself, it is the street life that attracts me. Everywhere there are buzzy, little foodstalls along the road, with people working and children playing. Social life takes place on the streets, which is something that is not obviously present in the Netherlands. Travelling makes it possible to change ones surroundings. Gazing upon the “other”, as John Urry defined. These differences with my home country are one of the key reasons to travel.

When studying in Norway, I felt I could live in this beautiful country for the rest of my life – were it not for the food. The cheese was tasteless, the oranges were as dry as the Sahara desert and adding to that: everything was extremely expensive. At such moments, I realise how much food can add to the experience of a journey. Food has memories and gives extra flavour to journey – literally. A piece of fresh baked French bread with a bit of salted butter will always remind me of good times with my family, while papayas provide me with an image of the tropical forests in Sri Lanka; both turn a smile on my face. Again, this is something that is not present at home. When trying to cook the same dish you ate on a journey never tastes the same. It misses the important ingredient that is called “travelling”. 

The market in Cambodia.

Want to try a different recipe? Sweet sticky rice with mango is often eaten as a sweet snack or delicious desert.

   

The nature

As a becoming biologist, I have always wanted to see animals and nature during my travels: the spiders and snakes in the jungle, the elephants, the sea turtles and whales. I enjoyed starry nights on an island, with the bioluminescent plankton in the water and the dark skyline of palm trees. I climbed many mountains on holidays with my family, breathing the fresh air. I explored creeks and bays while snorkelling or scuba diving. Ever since I knew how to swim, I went searching for crabs and gathering shells. Perhaps the biologist has always been inside me, but it was during my travels I really came to know who I was and what I wanted to study.  The feeling of “going back to nature” – which is a quite typical idea of Romanticism - makes me at the same time feel as “going back to myself”. Travelling is part of shaping our identity. 

Whether they are furry friends or snappy crabs – I always feel the urge to study them closely.