Fragility, life and the traveller

Friends and the fragility of life for the long term traveller  

The life of the long term traveller isn’t all cocktails by the pool, surrounded by beautiful people. In fact, on my budget it’s never about that and besides, the last thing the beautiful people want is some shabbily dressed, ugly old git like me hanging around cramping their style.

Not that I’m trying to say it’s a shit life but after six years mostly on the road, the prospect of ever having to do a proper days work again fills me with such grim foreboding that I’m not in any hurry to give it up.

Death can be an important part of life in African art

Probably the greatest pleasure of this lifestyle has been making friends in distant lands where, as different as the culture and life may be, learning how much we share overcomes any barriers of difference. Being able to go back to visit as a friend rather than a tourist opens the eyes to understannding that can never be bought out of a brochure or paid for an a credit card.

Often, the worse the visible signs of poverty and crisis are, the greater the sincerity of the welcome and in few places is that more true than Africa. To be invited to share a simple meal with people who may have little idea where the next one is coming from is a humbling experience, particularly when you know that a refusal, no matter how polite would be met with disappointment or even offense rather than relief.  It’s no wonder to me that this is the part of the world where I have made the closest friends, both among Arabs as well as black Africans.

Sometimes the opportunity that these return visits can afford means glimpses of the dark underbelly of life that all countries possess in some form or another, including our own, no matter how much more priviliged our western lives may be. Beyond the self evident poverty in places, such glimpses are usually obscured from the tourist’s viewpoint as we bathe in the glow of new sights, sensations and welcoming people.

There’s a fragility to life that only a struggling economy can bring however. All too often I hear that someone relatively young I met from an earlier visit has died. The cause was rarely something that would have provoked much worry or challenge to our own medical systems. The price of a test or a packet of medicine however, is well beyond many, including friends of mine. What can start as something of little concern, treatable with a modest amount, can easily evolve into something life threatening. I’ve been to hospitals in Africa with chickens wandering the corridors and cockroaches scampering around toilets that don’t flush, so even having the money is no guarantee of getting cured.

Voodoo spirits of the dead in Benin. With death rarely far away you need to keep on its good side

It’s this fragility of life that brings the only true test to my life of travel. Life back home may not be governed by the same uncertainties that my African friends encounter but life inevitably reveals to us its fragilities.

Three friends are currently undergoing treatment for cancer, and the life of one is almost certainly measured only in months. The resilience of all of them has been inspiring and although they have loved ones to support them, I’m not doing my duty as a friend by being there to provide at least occasional support or at least them knowing that I could be called upon if ever necessary.

Other friends have lost parents while I’ve been away and for those of you lucky enough to still have this as a distant prospect, there are few times in life when a hug from a friend is worth so much. Comforting words over a phone from a distant land, no matter how eloquent will never match the silent beauty of a hug.

The simple statistical probabilities of increasing age also open up our experience of mental health issues. While I’ve never been personally affected by these issues, I have several friends for whom it plays a very serious role in their lives. One friend even committed suicide. Although she wasn’t a particularly close friend it was an emotional reminder of human vulnerabilities as I’ve had other, dear friends who I know have attempted suicide. You can’t help but think, could I have made a difference if I was there?

Not being there for my friends is a cost way beyond any other for my lifestyle and its the one thing that will undoubtedly put me on a plane back home one day.