“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.”
Paul Theroux

The first time I was in Cambodia, already four years ago now, I was a tourist. One could say, of course, that I still am; that traveling by oneself is just another, albeit very different, form of tourism.

But all those who have already been backpacking know it is not entirely true.

I was a tourist in the purest sense of the term, participating in tours around the country, seeing the touristic places, following guides, having meals where it was organized for me to. I was coming with my family, an uncle of mine having arranged everything, I think, through a travel agency; and this exactly shows how much I knew about what was happening. Or, rather, how much I did not know.

I would lie if I said that I tried really hard to be informed, though. To look at maps, to read about the subjects we were to encounter, to learn some basic Cambodian history and about Khmer culture. But on the other hand, I did not need to. I only needed to do what people had planned for me to do, to sit in a car to get somewhere else, to walk where I was told to, to eat what people had ordered for me. I had the option to be lazy. I took it.

And now that I have been backpacking through Cambodia, I see the extent of my mistake, of how much I could have learned, how much I could have gained as a human being if I had been interested. Because this time, I did it. Not that I had a choice. And this is another aspect that I love about traveling: you have no choice but to learn and adapt yourself, if you want to survive; you have no choice but to talk to people in order to get what you need.

It is such a relief when you discover you can do it for the first time. A reaching, a simple opening of yourself to others, forgetting every tacit Western social rule about not talking to unknown people; a smile, a few handsigns when needed, and this is it. You can communicate with anyone. And, more importantly, you learn to like communicating with everyone. Real people, on this so beautiful planet, actually do not look suspiciously at you before fleeing when you address them. They smile back and try to help you, laugh with you and share their knowledge.

  

Forget your fears. Forget everything you learned about being scared of the unknown, unknown people, unknown places, unknown food, even unknown next night. You have no clue where you are going to sleep; but how does it even matter? You will find a way. Talk with people. Ask for advice and recommendations. This is something I learned on the road, after years of practice of not-worrying-anymore: if you want it, somehow, everything always ends up working out.

It is worth it — it definitely is. This world is such a beautiful place, with its incredible diversity of people, cultures, landscapes, animals; and our lives are so short, so desperately short, that I cannot for the life of me fathom why people would want to be afraid to leave their houses. I want to enjoy, to make the most of every hour given to me on this planet. I have no time to be scared.

That is, sadly, one of the main reasons why people prefer going on tours, I guess. They pay more to have the safety of mind, the added security, to know everything is planned and will roll smoothly. You have no unexpected events on a tour: you only get what you pay for. No bad surprises, but, as well, no good ones. And surprises are always good, if you have the right mind for it. Etienne, a friend of mine, once told me he strove to learn from every experience, be it good or bad — though the bad ones were more interesting to decipher.

   

And thus we got to travel in the countryside of Cambodia, something I had not done the first time. It is incredibly rewarding to get off the beaten paths of mass tourism and to discover what is real life in a country. Sharing the daily life of the family running a guesthouse, sitting behind a villager on his motorbike, watching farmers peacefully ploughing their rice fields, basking in the chaos, the scents, the noises of the streets: how could it not be worth a bit of unknown?

And the food. Aaaah, the food. The best food is always the street food — this I learned from Anthony, a veteran backpacker; but if not for him, I do believe I would have found out myself too. Only in a market can you sit down with the locals and eat the noodles they all love. And for a reason.

I did not learn a thing when I came with a guide. Not for want of trying; I did listen to them, but I just kept forgetting what they said five minutes before. Mainly, I believe, because I had no idea why we had come in the first place; I had not made the choice, had read nothing before deciding to go there. It was simply holidays — the location was not such an important factor. We were planning to have a good time together, relax for a while, visit some famous places, and go back home. It did succeed in that aspect, for sure. But I had no idea what I had seen or where I had been.

Now, I don’t know where I’m going, and I find I actually love it.