Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

Do Digital Nomads Have Homes?

by Joyce McGreevy on June 12, 2017

An apron with passport in a kitchen symbolizes the art of travel as a vagabond homebody, not just a digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A recipe for domestic happiness?
© Joyce McGreevy

When the Art of Travel Is Domestic

“Do you ever get tired of being a digital nomad? You know, living out of a suitcase, never having a sense of home?” The art of travel would fray around the edges if that were so.

“Are you constantly managing logistics? Always on the move?” I get questions like these since decluttering and pulling up stakes to travel full time—while continuing to work full time.

Happily, none of those circumstances apply. Neither does another stereotype of full time travel.  As an online photo search shows, the stock image of the digital nomad is a Millennial with a Laptop at the Beach.

A beach at sunset in Maui evokes the art of travel as a digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Who needs a laptop when you can monitor nature’s display?
© Joyce McGreevy

Surfing the Net?

Variations include stock images of the Millennial with a Laptop in a Hammock; silhouetted by a glowing monitor inside a tent; perched cross-legged, but still posting, from a promontory; or typing away at a tiki bar.

In this stock art of travel, the backdrop is always a beach. Because what could be better for a laptop—the equipment on which the digital nomad’s livelihood depends—than prolonged exposure to tanning oil, saltwater spray, and windblown grains of sand?

My day-to-day travel experience couldn’t be farther from that stock image. Let’s coin a new term, an alternative to “digital nomad.” Just call me a vagabond homebody.

Cutlery and napkins symbolize the domestic pleasures that make an art of travel as a vagabond homebody or digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Chop wood, carry water, appreciate everyday household objects.
© Joyce McGreevy

Have Apron, Will Travel

On arrival in a new place, the first thing I unpack is my apron.

What little else I’ve brought takes moments to put away. Each empty drawer or closet, though it might seem alien to others, is to me as inviting as a hand extended in friendship. Once again, a little corner of the world has made room for me and that feels like a kind of miracle.

It will be a month, maybe two, before I need my suitcase again.

On the first morning, I check out farmers’ markets and meet local greengrocers. Then, as I begin using the kitchen—be it spacious and connected to a large garden, or merely a two-burner countertop in an urban studio—a sense of home comes over me.

A lamp-lit desk in a cozy Irish study evokes the art of travel as a digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

I work in many countries, yet carry a sense of home from place to place.
© Joyce McGreevy

Home Travel Pleasures

Maybe it’s the fragrance of the herbs, the reflections in water drops that cling to leaves of lettuce. Maybe it’s the tactile and auditory pleasures: the satisfying push and thunk of the paring knife prepping rosy, golden, and green vegetables for an evening meal.

Maybe it’s the memories that play like background music for those of us who ponder as we cook.  Above all, it’s gratitude in the present moment.

Breads and charcuterie in Budapest symbolize the domestic pleasures that make an art of travel as a vagabond homebody or digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Bringing home the bacon in Budapest.
© Joyce McGreevy

Out and About

Grounded by domestic ritual, I go out to explore, to learn, and above all, to connect with others:

  • To meet new people who inform and challenge me.
  • To stay in touch with colleagues, alumni, and friends who inspire me.
  • To reconnect with family, near and far. To be there for school plays, graduations, and weddings. For early-morning walks and late-night talks.

Because sometimes I travel to acclimate to a whole new culture, and sometimes I travel to rediscover the cultures that have shaped me.

Oh, I see: Travel can be a series of homecomings.

What About Work?

Keeping an ever-changing roof over my head requires that I work full time.

This, too, connects me to the everydayness of places.  It lets me learn how to use the library in Copenhagen, request printing services in Bulgaria, conduct research at a museum in Athens, or go for an after-work swim in Oslo.

My work centers on writing textbook content, everything from language arts and history to original plays and short stories.  This motivates to do something else I love: meet with students and teachers from all over the world.

 

A mother and child walking home in Valletta, Malta evoke the domestic pleasures that make an art of travel as a digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

One little moment in Malta creates a sense of home.
© Joyce McGreevy

Our Global Neighborhood

Some neighbors I meet in my travels are new to me, some I’ve known all my life. Each one carries a piece of the world’s puzzle. People of all backgrounds, perspectives, and ages, including millennials. So far I’ve never met a Millennial with a Laptop at the Beach.

In many countries, cafés are for socializing, not filing reports or reading spreadsheets. I usually work from home, whether at a desk in Budapest, a kitchen table in Bend, or a cozy dorm room in Bloomsbury.  On those days, the travel pleasures are simple yet rich: the view of a park, the music of a local radio station, a quick jaunt to the nearest library, the wit of a favorite colleague as we confer online.

Family and friends gathering for a home-cooked dinner in Copenhagen evoke the domestic pleasures that make an art of travel as a digital nomad. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Sunday supper with my niece, Sydney Bevando, and her classmates in Copenhagen.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Traveling Compass

The countries, neighbors, and customs change. But when I wake up each morning, I always know exactly where I am: I’m home.

Even on airplanes, I’m at home. In-flight, I reflect on memories of my late father, a TWA pilot, and my late mother, whose home cooking reflected her love of travel.

At home in many cultures, Mom and Dad connected the art of travel with everyday domestic pleasures. They showed my siblings and me that a happy childhood is a home you can carry within you wherever you go. They taught us that everyone has a right to feel at home in this world.

No, there’s no need to call me a digital nomad. I’m really just a vagabond homebody.

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Quaintness, Rudeness, and Bad Food

by Joyce McGreevy on June 5, 2017

An urban view of the Grand Canal, Dublin counters cultural stereotypes of Ireland as “quaint” and “rural.” (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Beyond quaintness and cottages: This, too, is Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Travel Guide to Cultural Stereotypes

“Do people in Ireland talk normal?” the 13-year-old girl asked me. “You know, do they say things like cowabunga?” As cultural stereotypes go, this was one of the more intriguing. I’d never thought of cowabunga as a barometer of normality.

Cowabunga is a bundle of cultural stereotypes. Considered surfer slang, it’s a word no real surfer would utter. But actors playing surfers on Gidget, a popular ‘60s TV show, used it frequently. In the ‘90s, animated series like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and The Simpsons resurrected cowabunga.

A sign in Lahinch, Co. Clare shows that despite cultural stereotypes, surfing is popular in Ireland. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

In Co. Clare, Ireland, surf’s up, but stereotypes are out. 
© Joyce McGreevy

It began in 1953 as cowa-bonga, a phony Native American word used by a phony Native American character called Chief Thunderthud on The Howdy Doody Show. Not that anyone would have said Native American then.

Today, we’re more PC, yet cultural stereotypes persist. Here are a few I’ve encountered.

Jollity On Demand

“People are so unfriendly there.” This is one I hear a lot about Eastern Europe. Sometimes even from people who have been there.

A statue of Tsar Samuil in Sofia, Bulgaria embodies cultural stereotypes tourists often have about so-called unfriendly Eastern Europeans. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

If this is your image of Eastern Europeans, you’re missing out royally.
© Joyce McGreevy

There are entire threads on travel forums devoted to the question of whether people in Eastern European countries are friendly. How does this alleged lack of friendliness manifest? Do Bulgarians spit in your soup, Croatians curse your birthplace, Montenegrins shove you aside to cut in line?

None of the above. No, the Big Problem, say many first-time, short-stay visitors, is that Eastern Europeans don’t smile enough.

A smiling woman in Sofia, Bulgaria counters cultural stereotypes about so-called unfriendly Eastern Europeans. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A smile is not a commodity, but a response. Take the time to engage, listen, and learn. 
© Joyce McGreevy (in Sofia, Bulgaria)

Let me see if I understand.  We blitz through countries that for over 2,000 years have been invaded and occupied by everyone from the Goths to the Venetians to the Ottomans to the Soviets, yet we’re surprised if the locals fail to greet us with instant warmth?

A smiling group of people in Sofia, Bulgaria counter cultural stereotypes about so-called unfriendly Eastern Europeans. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Oh, those “unfriendly” Europeans!
© Joyce McGreevy

What if we decided to see what we could learn by practicing patience and respect for cultural differences?  What if that which we hastened to label “unfriendliness” was simply reserve?

As I talk with people in their home countries, there often comes a moment when the conversation shifts from a basic exchange of information into genuine connection. Those moments are why we travel.

Such moments don’t come instantaneously.

But what about instances of undeniable, cannot-believe-they-said-that rudeness?

Let me ask you: Have you ever encountered rudeness in your own country? And if so, did you extrapolate from said rudeness that everyone in your country must be rude? (Except you of course.) I’m guessing not.

Oh, I see: Wherever we go, whoever we meet, we’re complex individuals interacting with other complex individuals.

alt tk

Good things happen when we remember we’re all in the human race together.
© Joyce McGreevy (in Copenhagen, Denmark)

Dishing the Dirt

Food stereotypes make me do a slow boil. According to food stereotypes, Chicagoans are obsessed with deep-dish pizza, the Nordic diet consists solely of pickled fish, Tuscan food is overindulgent, and Irish cuisine is a contradiction in terms.

A sign advertising tacos in Copenhagen counters cultural stereotypes about dining in Denmark. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

From tacos to traditional Nordic…
© Joyce McGreevy

A sandwich and beer in Aarhus inspire a writer to dispel cultural stereotypes about Danish cuisine. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

food is deliciously diverse in Denmark!
© Joyce McGreevy

Only it’s just not true.

Tuscany is where I learned how to transform leftovers into frugal feasts. Today’s Nordic menus are wildly diverse.  Deep dish? Pull-eeze. Chicago’s 77 neighborhoods offer a world tour of culinary traditions.

When Things Change, But Stereotypes Persist

As for Ireland, oh what a drubbing it once took from critics. “The drama of Irish cuisine is not that it is bad. It’s that the Irish believe it is very good.”  So sneered the authors of a French travel guide in 1964.

Good Things Café & Cookery School in Skibbereen, Co. Cork counters cultural stereotypes about dining in Ireland. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Good Things Café & Cookery School typifies today’s Irish cuisine: organic and artfully prepared.
© Joyce McGreevy (in Skibbereen, Co. Cork)

Today, Irish chefs and home cooks are transforming organic resources, artisanal traditions, and creative innovation into superb everyday dining experiences.

But outdated cultural stereotypes stick like burned rice.

People enjoying home cooking in Galway counter cultural stereotypes about Irish cuisine. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Despite the stereotypes, Corned Beef & Cabbage was never popular in Ireland.
Try homemade pâté, fresh-baked breads, and local cheeses. 
© Joyce McGreevy

The Quaintness Stereotype

One of the most entrenched stereotypes is the idea that whatever country “we” are from is always ahead of the curve, while “those other” countries struggle to catch up.

When I was living in Ireland, some American friends would say, “You don’t have electricity there, right?” I hasten to add this was in the 1980s, not the 1880s.

“That’s right,” I’d chirp. “We line the airport runways with candles and flap our auld arms for takeoff.”

People at a digital archiving class in Clifden counter cultural stereotypes about Ireland, a leader in technology. (Image © Brendan “Speedie” Smith)

In Clifden, Ireland, neighbors gather to digitize, tag, and annotate images of days gone by.
© Brendan “Speedie” Smith

In fact, my first job in Ireland is what introduced me to technology. Back in the ‘70s, many a Galway University graduate worked by computer. The Irish have always been early adapters and innovators of technology, which plays a critical role in the economy.

Students in a coding and app making class in Galway counter cultural stereotypes about Ireland, a leader in technology. (Image © Brendan “Speedie” Smith)

In Ireland, app-making and coding are part of primary (elementary) school curricula.
© Brendan “Speedie” Smith

Likewise, texting was commonplace in Europe and Asia long before it caught on in the U.S. As Scott Campbell, professor of telecommunications at the University of Michigan explained in a 2012 CNN interview, texting was slow to take off in America because differing networks did not work well together in the early days of mobile communication.”

A woman using a smartphone in Sofia, Bulgaria counters cultural stereotypes about Eastern Europeans and technology. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

As of 2017, 97% of Bulgarians use cellphones, compared to 95% of Americans.
© Joyce McGreevy

An End to Cultural Stereotypes
So how do we put an end to cultural stereotypes? In fairness to the cowabunga girl, she didn’t make pronouncements, she asked questions. More important, she listened to the answers.

So that’s 1 and 2 right there.

She came away knowing that the Irish do a great many wonderful things with language—things that win Nobel prizes for literature and that change laws to ensure equal rights for all. It just so happens that saying cowabunga and sure n’ begorrah aren’t among then.

A sign in Lahinch, Ireland advocating for equal rights dispels cultural stereotypes tourists often have about traditional societies. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

When we stereotype cultures—whether positively or negatively—we miss what’s real.
© Joyce McGreevy (in Ireland)

I came away learning that 13-year-old girls who dare to ask imaginative questions deserve thoughtful answers.

Step 3 is to question our own assumptions. Once when a friend ranted about “loud Americans in their loud clothing,” I couldn’t resist pointing out that by the speaker’s own criteria, soft-spoken Americans who blended in were powerless to balance the cultural stereotype—they existed, but by definition, you’d never know it.

That’s the thing about cultural stereotypes. We can always find evidence to support them—but if we look past our first impressions and give each other a chance, maybe we can move beyond them.

Explore the Computer and Communications Museum of Ireland here

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Travel Adventures with a Heartfelt Focus

by Meredith Mullins on May 29, 2017

A cheetah in Namibia, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

The beauty of a cheetah in motion in Namibia
© Suzi Eszterhas

Wildlife Photography that Makes a Difference

Focus is a word that comes to mind when talking about Suzi Eszterhas. Not just because it’s a clever— albeit overused—pun that pops up in photography circles, but because Suzi was focused at an early age on what she wanted in life.

Not too many six-year-olds know what their future will hold. Suzi did. Travel adventures were her destiny. She knew she would be a wildlife photographer.

Suzi Eszterhas, a master of wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Suzi Eszterhas: Patience, Drive, and Passion
© Jak Wonderly

Obsession Can Be a Good Thing

Her family lived a suburban life in Northern California; and, she remembers, her parents weren’t that interested in nature, although they were devoted to rescue animals so the family had a menagerie of dogs and cats.

Since Suzi felt a magnetic and magical pull toward wildlife, she set out to find her own way.

Koala and baby, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Who doesn’t love koalas?
© Suzi Eszterhas

She plastered her bedroom walls with pictures of animals (Ranger Rick décor). She hunted nature documentaries on television. She studied the behavior of squirrels and deer in the open space of her backyard and spied on the skunks and raccoons outside at night.

She became a serious bird watcher at age 8, with field guides in hand. She took notes, drew pictures, and kept journals of bird behavior.

Red-legged honey creeper in Costa Rica, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

An early love of birds turns exotic (Red-legged
honeycreeper in Costa Rica).
© Suzi Eszterhas

She started feeding the birds that came to her yard and collected books with different recipes for different species. She even convinced her mother to take her to local nature preserves to expand her natural world.

These early childhood obsessions taught her patience—waiting for animals to show special moments of their hidden lives. She also learned the importance of research to understand animal behavior.

Grizzly Bear in Katmai National Park in Alaska, a result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Suzi quickly expanded her boundaries beyond her own back yard (Katmai National Park in Alaska).
© Suzi Eszterhas

Photographing the Beauty of Animal Family Life

Over the years, Suzi stayed true to her destiny, fueled by an innate drive. She soon became a successful wildlife photographer, specializing in the family life of endangered species, particularly the compelling behavior of the young animals.

“What I live and breathe is wildlife and the experiences I have with these animals,” she says. It’s much more about the wildlife than about the photography. Baby animals have always spoken to me.”

Why is she so passionate about documenting animals’ family life?

“There’s a pattern of vulnerability and innocence in what I’m trying to capture—the beauty and rawness of that innocence and vulnerability. There’s no better way to capture that than between mothers and their young or sibling relationships. I was always moved by the younger animals.”

A Sumatran Orangutan baby, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Sumatran Orangutan: Innocence and Vulnerability
© Suzi Eszterhas

Africa . . . Here I Come

Suzi told her parents when she was a child that she wanted to live in a tent in Africa. They thought it was a passing phase. It was a phase, in truth—but a phase that lasted into her adult life.

The dream was realized when she lived in the Masai Mara in Kenya for three years photographing cheetah families, then moving on to lions, hyenas, jackals and bat-eared foxes.

Cheetah cubs in the Masai Mara, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Patience was key in this portrait of cheetah
cubs in the Masai Mara.
© Suzi Eszterhas

She set up camp, built relationships with the locals, respected the culture, learned the language, and created unique opportunities for her photography, such as working with the anti-poaching team and the park officials.

Travel adventures became a part of her regular routine—in exotic locations and often unforgiving environments around the world.

She has fought her way out of an attempted kidnapping and has been stung by jellyfish, stranded on a deserted island, nearly arrested for poaching, and hobbled by a run through the jungle chasing chimps (foot injury).

A Ugandan jungle provided surprises every day, including bee swarms and being greeted one morning by a tick in her nose.

She rose to these challenges and let her passion be her guide.

Ugandan chimpanzee, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

The Ugandan chimps move quickly through the dense jungle.
© Suzi Eszterhas

A Modern-Day Explorer

“I think some of my trips where I rough it are really hard core, but then I read things about the early explorers and see how unbelievably harsh and unforgiving the environment can be,” Suzi says. “My life, my job, seems mundane, easy by comparison. I don’t even know what harsh is, what roughing it is.”

In comparison with the early explorers, what she says is true. But she perhaps underestimates her bravery, her drive, and her ability to adapt to foreign cultures and rugged lands. Her life is anything but mundane.

Adelie Penguin on Paulet Island, Antarctica, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Unforgiving environments around the world
(Paulet Island, Antarctica)
© Suzi Eszterhas

She often travels alone, but depends on local guides and researchers to help her learn about the animals and environment where she is photographing, as well as to spot the animals.

She is also experienced enough now to know that an investment of time is paramount, whether she’s in a remote forest, a tangled jungle, or a sweeping savanna.

A California harbor seal and pup, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

A California harbor seal and pup
© Suzi Eszterhas

She knows that in-depth work yields the best results and makes her images unique in the competitive world. She often devotes her time to a single species, for example working three seasons photographing harbor seal pupping.

Or she invests the time needed to wait for the birth of the young, to watch the young animals grow up and learn the ways of the world, or just to gain the trust of the animals.

Lion cub meeting his father, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

A seven-week wait for this image of a lion cub meeting his father for the first time.
© Suzi Eszterhas

“In most of my work, the animals know I’m there and have accepted my presence,” she says.

“I would never intentionally harass an animal. Ever. They are individual beings with feelings. I need to work with them in a manner that they no longer pay attention to me and they trust that I’m not going to hurt them. ”

Sometimes this takes a while to achieve. Her record is 17 days—the time it took her to acclimate a jackal family to her presence. She moved closer and closer to the den, all the while being sensitive to how the animals were responding. She took no photos until the 18th day.

She knows that, if the animals are stressed, they might move their babies, which could be dangerous to their health and safety.

Jackal pups in the Masai Mara, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

Black-backed jackal pups in the Masai Mara
© Suzi Eszterhas

Oh, I See

For Suzi, the “Oh, I see” moments are born from the amazing behavior of the animals she is studying, particularly the powerful family interactions. She adds to those experiences her ability to capture the power and beauty of nature.

“Nature makes it easy to bring art into the photographs. Nature itself is painting with light and color and texture. It makes people feel something.”

A mountain gorilla in Rwanda, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

A nature painting: Mountain gorilla in Rwanda
© Suzi Eszterhas

She supports several conservation groups by raising funds and awareness and offers free photography workshops for teen girls to encourage them to enter the male-dominated field of wildlife photography.

She has also created a nursery print series and books for children—Wildlife Rescue series, Moto and Me, and Baby Animals (coming this fall)—so that children (even babies and toddlers) will have access to these special moments.

California sea otter and newborn baby, the result of Suzi Eszterhas wildlife photography and travel adventures. (Image © Suzi Eszterhas.)

A California sea otter and her newborn
© Suzi Eszterhas

Her overarching mission is to bring these amazing animals into people’s homes so that future generations can be empowered and inspired by the beauty of the wild and the exhilaration of dramatic travel adventures. The imagery is a powerful tool. The ultimate goal is to bring awareness to the importance of protecting these rare treasures and their habitats for years to come.

With Suzi’s focus, drive, and passion, this mission (and the story of her destiny) continues to unfold. We are fortunate that the story has the promise of a good ending.

Follow Suzi Eszterhas’s work and workshop schedule on this site and Facebook page. You may also wish to follow the organizations she supports: the Cheetah Conservation Fund, Wildlife Conservation Network, Tiger Time, Sloth Conservaton Foundation, Orangutan Foundation International, and The Center for Animal Protection and Education. 

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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