This one is about reserving judgment.
I recently traveled to Myanmar — you may know it as Burma — and rented a motorcycle to ride through the heart of the country. I wanted to see real life there, untouched by tourism or curated experiences. I expected the people to have fewer material possessions. What I didn’t expect was how much they had to give.
Halfway through the trip, I was riding through the mountains when I hit a patch of oil. In an instant, I was skidding across the pavement. Luckily, I wasn’t going fast, and I walked away with only a few scrapes. The couple riding behind me immediately stopped. They lifted my bike, helped me up, and noticed the foot peg was bent against the gear shift. Without hesitation, the man picked up a rock and hammered the peg back into place until it worked.
I said thank you, the only way I knew how — “jesudumare” — and continued on.
A few miles later, I came across a small bamboo shack with worn-out scooters scattered everywhere. I pulled in, hoping someone might be able to help me check the bike. A few men came over. We had no shared language, only hand signals and good intentions. They understood exactly what needed to be done, brought out the tools, fixed the issue, and refused any payment.
Again — Jesudumare.
Before this trip, I had assumed the people there might resent Westerners for their wealth. That they might take advantage of tourists when they could. But I found the exact opposite. They were generous, honest, and deeply kind.
Travel teaches you about the world — but the best travels also teach you about yourself.
Reserve judgment. Walk — or ride — a mile in someone else’s shoes before deciding who they are. People may surprise you in ways that change you forever.