Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The best place to experience Ireland is in a Gaeltacht, as Irish-speaking regions are
called. These are government-subsidized national preserves for traditional lifestyles. In a
Gaeltacht, it seems like charming and talkative locals conspire to slow down anyone with
too busy an itinerary.
I was deep into one conversation with an old-timer. We were on the far west coast of
the Emerald Isle—where they squint out at the Atlantic and say, “Ahhh, the next parish
over is Boston.” I asked my new friend, “Were you born here?” He said, “No, 'twas 'bout
five miles down the road.” Later, I asked him, “Have you lived here all your life?” He
winked and said, “Not yet.”
In even the farthest reaches of the globe, travelers discover a powerful local pride.
Guiding a tour group through eastern Turkey, I once dropped in on a craftsman who was
famous for his wood carving. Everybody in that corner of Turkey wanted a prayer niche in
their mosque carved by him. We gathered around his well-worn work table. He had likely
never actually met an American. And now he had 15 of us gathered around his table. He
was working away and showing off…clearly very proud. Then suddenly he stopped, held
his chisel high into the sky, and declared, “A man and his chisel—the greatest factory on
earth.”
Looking at him, it was clear he didn't need me to tell him about fulfillment. When I
asked if I could buy a piece of his art, he said, “For a man my age to know that my work
will go back to the United States and be appreciated, that's payment enough. Please take
this home with you, and remember me.”
I traveled through Afghanistan long before the word Taliban entered our lexicon.
While there, I enjoyed lessons highlighting the pride and diversity you'll find across the
globe. I was sitting in a Kabul cafeteria popular with backpackers. I was just minding my
own business when a local man sat next to me. He said, “Can I join you?” I said, “You
already have.” He said, “You're an American, aren't you?” I said yes, and he said, “Well,
I'm a professor here in Afghanistan. I want you to know that a third of the people on this
planet eat with their spoons and forks like you, a third of the people eat with chopsticks,
and a third of the people eat with fingers like me. And we're all just as civilized.”
As he clearly had a chip on his shoulder about this, I simply thought, “Okay, okay, I
get it.” But I didn't get it…at least, not right away. After leaving Afghanistan, I traveled
through South Asia, and his message stayed with me. I went to fancy restaurants filled
with well-dressed local professionals. Rather than providing silverware, they had a cere-
monial sink in the middle of the room. People would wash their hands and use their fingers
for what God made them for. I did the same. Eventually eating with my fingers became
quite natural. (I had to be retrained when I got home.)
