Minimalist Travels: How Travel Helped Lead Me to Minimalism

Some people say that minimalism has led them to traveling. I would also say that traveling can lead to minimalism. I’ve traveled a lot over the past several decades—to study languages, to visit friends, and when I married, to live with my spouse in his country. I learned a lot on my trips though not always what I had intended to learn. Sure, I improved my language skills and learned one language fluently, but the most valuable lessons came from seeing the world through from a different lens. This sounds like a cliché, but it’s true. Travel broadens your horizons. You may not always like or agree with what you experience, but it will change you.

By the time I graduated college, I had traveled to Germany, Switzerland, France, Spain, England, and the former USSR. Those trips were mostly brief and from a tourist’s point of view. I had little exposure to the daily life of the people there. Nevertheless, those experiences exposed me to a way of life different from the American one I knew.

It wasn’t just the different food, language, and customs. I saw people using subways, buses, or bikes as their main transportation. People bought food at a market (farmers’ markets were not yet trendy in the U.S.) or at small, specialized stores. Apartments were the rule in many of the places as there were housing shortages. Perhaps if you came from New York City, you wouldn’t have felt so out of place, but for me, this was all quite different from home.

The real culture shock came when I moved to West Germany in the 1980s. I was going to live with my German husband, learn the language, and make my home there. I knew the standard of living was similar to America’s, so I naively believed I would slip into the culture without a hitch. It’s Germany, how different could it be? 

In contrast to visiting as a tourist, living in a different culture takes time and effort to adjust. Everything in Germany seemed different and smaller, much smaller—cars, streets, stores, and homes. The apartments we looked at were smaller. Even appliances were smaller—refrigerators were similar to dormitory ones and freezers were tiny. (Question: Where would I put a frozen pizza? Answer: Don’t buy a frozen pizza.) Bedrooms had no closets and the wardrobe cabinets we purchased didn’t hold very much. It took some time, but I eventually learned the language and adapted to the lifestyle. I took public transportation, bought fresh food more frequently, and got creative about storage.

During my Germany years, I took a five-week trip to Israel. I had wanted to visit the country for a long time, and after meeting some Americans who had lived on a kibbutz there, I began to make arrangements to volunteer on a kibbutz. I planned to stay for one month on a kibbutz near the southern city of Eilat. Afterwards, I’d visit Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, then return to Germany. 

I roomed with two other volunteers in a small room. We were issued work clothes, so I didn’t need to pack much. I was surprised how quickly I adjusted to living without money. There was a small store to get basic supplies and a credit system to get some extra items, mostly snacks. Families had small apartments with kitchenettes, but since we all ate in a large dining hall, they were used mostly for baking treats or the occasional special meal.

For one month I wore a very limited wardrobe and spent very little. Except for a weekend trip, I didn’t handle money at all. By then, it seemed almost absurd to exchange pieces of paper or metal for goods. It was an interesting experience and it showed me how little I really needed.

My summer-long Russian language program in 1989 allowed for more opportunities to meet people and visit their homes than my first trip back in 1977. It was the beginning of the glasnost era, and it wasn’t as dangerous for Russians to have foreign friends.

I wasn’t as surprised by the smaller apartments this time because I had already lived in Europe. Food scarcity, though, was a big issue, and my Russian friends often resorted to the black market to acquire fresh fruit and vegetables. My meals were included at the hotel we stayed in for the program, but the meals lacked variety and quality.  I began to long for the simple, whole foods I took for granted back home.

More importantly, though, was seeing how my Russian friends handled living in a society that often lacked consumer goods. Yes, it was annoying, no doubt. However, I was more impressed by how much they discussed the importance of family and friends as well as social and cultural issues. I heard conversations on these topics not only from highly-educated friends but also from taxi drivers and store workers. On the subway and buses, I saw the majority of riders reading books and newspapers.

When I moved back to the U.S., I experienced reverse culture shock. I couldn’t believe how huge the stores were! The abundance of goods in a typical supermarket was overwhelming. I had returned to car country. Very few people were outside walking. Houses, appliances. and cars were all larger, much larger. All the bedrooms had built-in closets. The amount of wasted space seemed almost sinful. It was disorienting to feel so strange and out of place in my own country.

Looking back, I’m grateful my perspective of living space and consumption was adjusted downwards when I was just starting out as an independent adult. I spent a lot of years on a relatively low income, so that perspective helped a great deal when making do with less. I may have a better income now, but I don’t really want much more. Traveling and living abroad changed my views forever about what is truly needed to live happily.

RESOURCES

Gilbert, Elizabeth Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia

Oxenreider, Tsh Notes from a Blue Bike: The Art of Living Intentionally in a Chaotic World

At Home in the World: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the Globe

For more resources, go to this page: Resources

Related Blog Post

Minimalist Travels: Packing Light

Minimalist Travels: What Life in Germany Taught Me about Simple Living

Travel Quotes

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” Oliver Wendell Holmes

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” Martin Buber

“All travel has its advantages. If the passenger visits better countries, he may learn to improve his own. And if fortune carries him to worse, he may learn to enjoy it.” Samuel Johnson

“The life you have led doesn’t need to be the only life you have.” Anna Quindlen

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” Marcel Proust

“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.” Saint Augustine

“To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.”  Aldous Huxley

“To travel is to take a journey into yourself.” Danny Kaye

“Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.” Seneca

“Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.”  Gustave Flaubert