Foreign travel isn't for everyone. To appreciate foreign countries one has to have read something of them and be curious. Otherwise, Disney World will suffice. From Helen Roy:
The real problem isn’t that the quote is likely misattributed—it’s that the sentiment itself has been absorbed uncritically, as if travel was inherently a signal of personal enlightenment, rather than a lifestyle commodity, as it now is. The concept of travel has become a meme, similar to what I’ve written about regarding religion, tradition, and fertility. And like all such things, it relies on a convenient caricature of those who don’t participate in the ritual: the pitiable, provincial, unwashed, unsophisticated American, hopelessly trapped on a single, unread page.
Wrapped up in the meme of modern travel, it is given that:
Travel makes you a good person, because by observing the “exotic” practices of “exotic” people, one is meant to loosen their grasp on their own petty, provincial notions of How Things Are Done. (Ironic, of course, that the Observer must regard his or her own local customs as fundamentally abandonable, never those of the Observed.)
Travel makes you a smart person. This seems to be an elaboration on the belief that novelty equals profundity. I guess it’s true that a mind trained to absorb only the superficial can be deepened by a mere change of scenery.
Travel makes you an interesting person. The absurdity of this one should be obvious to anyone who has ever met, say, a Frenchman, or a twenty-one year old political science major fresh off his semester abroad. He who harbors a sense of himself as “interesting” and “cultured” is usually betrayed by the incongruent inability to let another person get a word in edgewise.
Talking to a European (I am including many Australians here, who clearly share the one-sided beef) as an American abroad can feel like a 2003 time capsule, where the EU passport breaux pictures himself as Jon Stewart, clowning on the specter of the Toby Keith Republican, forever. They regard Americans as uncultured swine—neither good, smart, nor interesting— precisely because most have not “traveled” in the way that Europeans do. Our tube socks and lack of taste for shawarma betray us as evidence of the capital sin of provincialism!1 (Read more.)
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