story of a nomadic traveller | away in Europe

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The first thing I study when arriving in a new place is the way people move.  

   I study their eyes, too, the kind of emotions contained within them: fear, desire, anger, calm. Whether their pupils dilate or constrict as they meet the eyes of passing strangers. I think it’s important to watch people when arriving in a new place for the first time, especially if you’re reliant on public transport. Not all public transport systems were built equally, maintained appropriately to the needs of people. India, for example, was an eye opener. Public transport is a part of travel I have always enjoyed. But still, if there’s no barrier to entry, CCTV, locks on train doors, how you feel when you travel on public transport can change quite dramatically. Cleanliness matters, too, as does staffing and operating hours. Anyway, whenever I exit a bus station or train station or subway station overseas, I first consider if the streets are well lit, and then consider how the people move, and then how they feel about the place in which they move.

   I do this because people are fascinating. I also do this because people often show you what they’re about when unaware anyone is looking. If wanting to travel in one direction with no plan B, on a budget most would dispose of socializing with friends over a weekend, use public transport. Plus, you learn about the ways a city or town or village moves in new directions, dependant on the time of day. This is really the way people move, of course. Commutes often reveal how residents of a place feel, what they do, have in their lives. Commutes are valuable if interested in the development of cultures. The attitudes and diversities, opportunities and policies that relates to social class, race, government—this stuff can be understood by proximity and found on say a train or bus. Ride public transport. There are few definitions there, only curious gatherings of the largely unknown. Even if the history books tell you something different to what you experience in a place. The eyes don’t lie.

I think it’s better not to be told something about a place and how it functions before you get there. It’s good for the soul to exist among people and discover. Do what they do, go where they go, eat what they eat, learn about others through participation and proximity. Sociology teachers should make their students travel somewhere and ride public transport for a week. Different forms of transport that take them to different parts of the place they occupy for a moment in their life. It’s a valuable thing to do if interested in developing an understanding about societies. Society is basically just people occupying shared territories, willingly or otherwise. The complicated part is coexistence, of course.  

   Anyway, whether a subway at rush hour or train on a Friday night, departing a night bus in search of a bed after a long ride across country, it’s wise to consider the movement and expressions of locals. Subtle stuff too, like if they have a watch or phone or necklace on display. If headphones are worn and music plays. If they care about who is around them in busy spaces. Do they walk tall or look right ahead? Especially as they move away from stations towards a place they know as home. You can learn a lot about a place that way. It’s even more important to be discreet about it, though. Some people can get really pissed off if they feel like they’re being watched. Especially if in their own social environment. It doesn’t matter if you do it with a smile, kind eyes. A lot of people find the smiles and kind eyes of strangers weird. They also find it strange you aren’t on your phone like everyone else. I was on a train once that took me north from Toronto to Quebec in the dead of winter. Everyone on my carriage was reading a book, everyone. But then again it was pre-internet. Reading a book on public transport used to be the equivalent of a phone for entertainment—and talking to your neighbour, of course.