While traveling, some of my favorite moments have been the seemingly mundane ones where I’m immersed in someone else’s routine, momentarily living in their shoes.
Taking the metro in the morning, I watch commuters journey to their 9-to-5 jobs: a man flipping through the newspaper to find the crossword puzzle, a group of students huddled around a digital camera. I hear announcements in a foreign language, each one marking a different stop, a different story.
At Sunday markets, I observe the elderly carefully picking out a mini harvest of fruits and vegetables, dragging their metal food carts—their mini bounty for the day. They share conversations with friends, smiles on their faces.
Late at night at a roadside food stall, I watch someone order something they’ve had hundreds of times. A smile, a nod, a few coins exchanging hands, the first bite of a warm meal.
I imagine their stories, what their lives must be like, and how “different” they are from mine.
Their ordinary is my extraordinary.
But maybe, just maybe, my life and my routine back at home are extraordinary to someone too.
Joyous travels.