"was I even there?"

They travel globe now. An easy get up and go.
Peru, Nepal, Ghana, Bolivia, Prague, Madrid, Australia, Paris, Florence, Crete, China...The list could go on for days.
It is just so easy now.
The world is ours.

But I want to see it too, you see.
I saw a glimpse, a sliver of a sort. A tiny amuse bouche that lingers still on the tongue.
Tell me, how does it feel to live with a tribe in the Tanzanian desert?
A home stay in Peru? I bet it is nothing like you imagine.

We go, because we can. It is just so easy. You see, everyone goes away now.
The excitement is choosing a place nobody else has chosen.
A game perhaps.

Let me spin this exotic tale into my own.
A blind pin on a map, yes, that sounds about right.

A fun game. We go, take pictures, pretend we know what we are doing, pretend we actually care.
A constant stream of posts to Facebook, or a "check out my travel blog, I've done cool shit" sort of thing, or a, "Let's party, get drunk and make out with foreign boys"!

When will we realize that this globe is not just ours for a public showing to display how cool we are?

Did you even chat with that local baker? The one you bought your croissant from every morning?
How about that little child who rode his bike in the street? He sure watched you.
Did you learn about yourself? Did you write down how blessed you are and vow to heal the world?

I didn't.

I intended to. It just never panned out as such. I saw, took pictures, posted to a blog and spent most of the time cooresponding with the American world instead of focusing on where I was and how to live there in that foreign home.

I believe that is what most of us do, but I swear, when I get back out there and place my pins on the map, they will be deliberate. I will focus my attention on the people and the culture and how to better myself. I will learn and care. I will desire to be better.

If this is what I learned abroad then it is something so dear, but how come it always comes back to haunt us? How come when I see others post their pictures in the sun, I get a dreaded feeling within that prompts me to ask, "was I even there?"