The Length and Breadth of Travel

22 October 2026

Last weekend, I helped a student of mine work on a school assignment.

“Elaborate on the statement – ‘Travel broadens the mind’.”

Four sentences in, I realised she hadn’t really understood what that statement meant. Her list of visited destinations was lengthy, but the breadth of those travels hadn’t entirely hit home. How could I simplify it, so that a 14-year old could not just elaborate but also relate to it?

Simple – Dig through my personal experiences, starting from when I was around the same age!

I was 15 when I first boarded an internationally bound flight alone. A small German town eagerly waited to welcome me, as part of a cultural exchange program. With bags packed full of curiosity, nervousness and excitement, I landed on foreign soil for the first time in my life.

A long, scenic journey took me from the airport to what would be ‘home’ for the next six weeks. A mandatory toilet break enroute opened the doors to a public toilet so clean that I almost hesitated using it. While I flushed down that cultural shock, the toilet seat began to twist and turn in front of my eyes.

I gulped down an anxious lump in my throat. Had I broken something within my first hour of entering this new country? My amused host family calmly explained that it was just the seat covers automatically being sanitized after use.

Lesson #1 : Systems and public standards can be set differently. Something as simple and as necessary as a toilet seat taught me how perspective toward hygiene changes across cultures.

Meanwhile back in India, my exchange student partner couldn’t make sense of the way the table was being laid – where were the forks and knives, and when would the variety of dishes being brought out from the kitchen, stop?! However, within a couple of confused yet hungry minutes of her looking around the table, she had already made her dinner choice.

While the rest of us sat with the chapatis growing cold in our plates, she smacked her way through our vegetable preparation (sabzi) for the day!

Lesson #2 : Translation is not always vocabulary; more often than not, it is context. Something as habitual as arranging a dinner plate ends up varying so much based on where you are on the map.

A few years later, I was in the UK for my Masters. One very ambitiously late night, I took the bus from the city centre to my university. It was my usual route, but an unusual time. I boarded the bus to realise I had only 3 co-passengers – the bus driver, a drunk man and a boy around my age. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the drunk man getting up from his seat just as I took mine. We were seated at opposite ends so his walk toward me was slow, though my heart had already begun to beat fast. My frightened glances at the passive driver made me realise he would only interfere if and when he felt the situation required it of me.

In the split second that it would take the drunk man to sit down next to me, our last co-passenger slid himself expertly into the empty seat. He smiled as though we were old friends and whispered, “Aapko Hindi aati hain? Main Pakistan se hoon, aap daro mat. Aise dikhana ke hum dost hain. Main aapko university tak chhodne aata hoon.” (“Can you speak Hindi? I am from Pakistan; don’t be scared. Pretend that we are friends. I will make sure you get to your university safely.”)

Lesson #3 : Kindness and humanity aren’t limited by political agendas or boundaries. It took a stranger from a warring (read : neighbouring) country, missing his stop by multiple stations just to ensure I reached home safe; for me to realise that prejudices and stereotypes need not cloud your judgement.

My grandmother’s death a few years ago left me anchorless for a while. Heartfelt condolences poured in, but nothing eased the ache. Amid the chaos, three mysterious Amazon parcels came looking for me, one per day. No sender address, no attached note. Just carefully packaged chocolates, that the practical me couldn’t even eat without knowing their source. The third package delivery finally brought across the explanation.

An accompanying note to yet another pack of chocolates, read : We couldn’t be there to hug you in person, so sending these chocolates to make you feel better. Love, your German family.

The family that had first welcomed a 15-year-old me knew perfectly well how to fill the void the 32-year-old me now faced. And this wasn’t even about the chocolates that I could finally eat.

Lesson #4 : You can be separated in terms of geographical location, cuisine, customs and even outlooks toward life. But the need for raw human connection remains universal.

That day, while my student diligently rewrote her school assignment, I began to think of how much travel has broadened my perspective. Of how accepting it has made me, how adaptable and open-minded.

My student nodded back to me that day and said, “It is perhaps not about how far and wide we travel, but maybe about how broad our mind remains even after we’ve unpacked our bags.”

I don’t know yet what grade she got in that assignment. But helping her with that assignment sure reminded me of how I became who I am.