Travel Reflections
In 2025, after more than a decade of fundraising and partnership-building for nonprofits, I took a six-month career pause to travel around the world. I’m finally sitting down to share some reflections.
For four months, my partner Travis and I explored Southeast Asia, Central Asia, the Baltics, and the Balkans. We went diving in Borneo, cooked curries in Sri Lanka, hiked the mountains of Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, and ate our way through Georgia. For two months, I traveled alone—trekking through Albania and visiting my high school exchange sister in northern Italy. I returned to South Africa to spend two weeks with my Peace Corps host family in rural Zululand, and I traversed Namibia, camping next to the world’s largest (and oldest) sand dunes. I have about half of the trip documented in this travel blog and hope to write about the rest.
In the meantime, a few personal reflections.
1. Traveling—whether with someone or alone—makes me feel vulnerable, and that matters. Getting stuck at the Tajik border for days and depending on the kindness of our driver’s family to take us in. Taking my first solo multi-day hike in Albania and figuring out how much I love it. Feeling the nerves of stepping back into my South African host community after so many years away—and the relief of being wrapped up in their love. Doing things I might feel wholly unprepared for, and learning (and re-learning) just how much I’m capable of—and how much the world is capable of giving.
2. Traveling can be both the greatest world history lesson and a present-day perspective widening experience. I gained a better understanding of Sri Lanka’s ancient dynasties and colonial history, its civil war and genocide, and its complicated reconciliation struggles. Of ancient and not-so-ancient geopolitical struggles along the Silk Road. Ofthe Soviet-era impacts and current fears of Russia across central Asia and Europe. Of familiar stories about corruption and democratic backsliding in places like Georgia and Kazakhstan. Of the effects of climate change on ecosystems and on people—most notably in Borneo, one of most biodiverse island in the world. Of complex wars and genocides across the Balkans, including the pain of the Bosnian genocide and the US/NATO role in stopping a humanitarian catastrophe in Kosovo. Of Lithuania’s reluctance to acknowledge its role in the Holocaust and rise of present-day antisemitism. Of the many ways U.S. policies echo everywhere, alongside shifting attitudes toward the U.S. and a changing world order.
3. The countless reminders of our shared humanity that I find when I travel fundamentally change me. Community, family, food, laughter, joy, culture—there’s so much we have in common and discovering that in far corners and unexpected places shifts something inside of me each time. Those places stay with me, and I can always return to them for empathy, energy, humility.
4. Travel—curiosity—will always be something I need. Not vacationing necessarily: traveling, learning, understanding, seeing, meeting, failing, adventuring. And it won’t just happen. If it’s a core value of mine, then I have to design my life to make it possible. The greatest gift of that time away was time itself—and that’s not what every trip will look like. But life is painfully precious and short, and we have to make time for the things that matter most to us, whatever that looks like.
I’ll always be grateful for that extended time away. Coming home has brought its own kind of vulnerability—stepping back into a job search at a moment when so many others, including close friends, are being pushed into transition without choice. If that’s you, I’m sorry. I’m angry about it, too.
I don’t know exactly what my next chapter looks like yet. But I do know I want it to be rooted in curiosity and collaboration. For now, I’m listening and reconnecting, and grateful for this community.
