Two new travel resources from me

A blog about something travel-related again! 

I've created two new pages on the travel-portion of my web site: one to encourage people to be better prepared for a public health crisis while traveling and one to encourage people to travel with respect to others and their surroundings. Both were inspired by the current global pandemic or current political climate. 

travel with respect
To be able to travel - and to travel abroad - is a sign of your privilege. You absolutely should travel if you are able - it's a wonderful, soul-enriching act. But never forget that to be able to travel depends on your economic status, your passport and how the world labels or categorizes you. To be able to travel is a privilege. People without your privilege see you, the person that has such. And, sometimes, they see your pity and condensation. Or your outright disrespect and arrogance. And that contributes how they see and treat all travelers - including me. These are tips for how not to be an asshole while traveling - and I can't believe anyone needs this guidance but, based on what I've seen - yeah, a lot of people don't know this.

Traveling during a global pandemic
Welcome to the reality that, while you are out having a great time far from home, an intense disaster, even a global pandemic, can break out and not only alter your travel plans but force you to evacuate and get home ASAP. It's actually always been a possibility, but while there were stories here and there of travelers stranded somewhere because of a disaster, or having difficulty re-entering their home country because they are coming from a place with a widespread disease outbreak, the novel coronavirus pandemic has brought home the reality that this can happen to anyone, anywhere. If you are going to travel before the global pandemic is over, these are suggestions that will keep you safe, keep others safe from you, and help you prepare beforehand in case you need to get out of a dicey situation.

I have no idea if these will really help people. I'm expecting criticism for being sanctimonious and a killjoy. So be it. 

Embracing the reality that the pandemic isn't over

The pandemic isn't over. So many countries haven't seen the worst of it. I am so happy to be vaccinated (Pfizer), but I know this is a pause, not the end, in lockdown life, because of variants, because unvaccinated people are providing a breeding ground and evolutionary laboratory for such. 

I know people are exhausted from thinking about the novel coronavirus and that most people in the USA haven't lost any loved one to COVID-19. For most people in the USA, this disease is still something abstract and just merely inconvenient, even with almost 600,000 deaths in our country alone and untold numbers of people who have long-term disabilities. I am not one of those people, but I'd like to think I would still be this alarmed even if I didn't know people who have died or are permanently disabled from this.  

This past weekend, I saw a neighbor I hadn't seen in many months. Lucinda adores him, so I crossed the street so she could greet him. He was thrilled. He asked how we were and I said we were fine, grateful we've been able to stay healthy and that we've been fully vaccinated, and that I'm so sorry for the people in our neighborhood who are still dealing with long-term effects from the virus. 

"People in our neighborhood?" he said with alarm. "People here have had it?"

This isn't the first time I've remarked to a neighbor about other neighbors having this disease - no names, of course - and that neighbor having NO IDEA, having thought he or she was living in a safe little disease-free cocoon. 

I walk my dog every day. I know most every person in my neighborhood by sight, if they have a dog or not, if they have an outdoor cat, when they bought their house, how many people live in the house, how often their adult children visit, if there's a baby on the way, if one of the kids graduated in May, and on and on. I'm not an Oregonian - I'm a Kentuckian, and I talk to people. I'm Gladys Kravitz and I have no apologies for that. People have piped right up with the info to me as I walk by: "I got COVID. It's been hell." I don't reveal their names to anyone, but yes, absolutely, I've referred to people in our neighborhood having this disease. And most of the time, the "What?!?" reaction is what I get from other neighbors. 

But it's not that ignorance and denial that fuels my pessimism. 

In July 2020, I wrote about how the novel coronavirus may never go away, even with a vaccine. There are links to the long articles I read that predicted this and that made me realize this wouldn't be something that would be with us for just several weeks or a few months, in contrast to what politicians and news folks were saying. This week, I came across this interview with the epidemiologist who worked with the WHO to help eradicate smallpox and was the science adviser for what many are calling a prescient film, Contagion. I really hope you will read the article in its entirety. It notes, in part:

If a third of the population, 30 percent, is not vaccinated, not wearing masks, and we’ve already got the variants in the United States—what do you think’s going to happen? Remember, what drives a virus is not how good we’ve been at vaccinating 60 percent. It’s the 120 million Americans who are not vaccinated, not wearing masks, not practicing social distancing, and who are congregating. And it only takes one little virus, and it’s everywhere, because they’re just not protected. Of those who aren’t vaccinated but had the virus, a high percentage have already lost their immunity or have waning immunity—there’s much less and much less durable immunity from getting the disease than from getting the vaccine.

That people are refusing to be vaccinated when the vaccine is available is outrageous. It comes from a place of privilege, of being willfully obtuse and not experiencing any immediate consequences from such reckless selfishness. I've used this analogy so many times, but it fits: imagine millions of people in the USA and the UK during World War II saying, "Screw these restrictions, I have a right to gas, to steak and to cosmetics, I'm going to do what I want because rations are inconvenient to the life I want to live." I think about people in the UK in particular, who went without things like oranges and chocolate for MANY years - they were still living with a lot of deprivation even in 1950.

I know people are frustrated that "the science keeps changing." It's not that science keeps changing, but our understanding of it does: we get more data, we get a larger group looking at that data, and sometimes, we realize that our understanding is wrong. For instance, it turns out, in contrast to what was said a year ago, in contrast to my own understanding, face masks DO protect the wearer, far more than scientists thought they did - but the reality is still that your face masks protect others even more. I love the pants analogy the most: pants don't protect you from getting some of your own pee on you, but they do protect you from getting pee on other people. Since I care about people, and I care about myself, I'm masking up - and apologizing to all the tourists I made fun of in my mind for about 15 years. 

Knowing what we know about masks, it should be that vaccinated people aren't wearing them and people who aren't vaccinated are. Instead, it's the opposite. And I'm one of those people still wearing a mask inside anywhere other than my house, despite being vaccinated. Why? Because I'm afraid of variants. Current vaccines may not work against the South Africa and India variants. Because I don't want to be permanently disabled: not being able to taste, not being able to sing or breathe deeply, being exhausted from just walking across the house, etc. Because I'm not ready to die. 

Do read this article, which has many interesting historical notes, like that the "Spanish flu" originated in Kansas, and why it got the "wrong" name. 

We're stronger and smarter than we're acting right now. That's what makes me so angry - we know better and we act like petulant children instead. I want to go to the movies, go to live theater, go to concerts, go inside and eat, and on and on - but if people don't radically change their behavior, I'll never be able to do any of that safely. And neither will they. 

I'm treating pandemic life now, in its current state in the USA, as a pause. We're going camping. We're eating outside at restaurants. We go inside to stores, wearing masks. We're planning a motorcycle trip for September and for 2022. Stefan is hoping to fly to Europe next year and see his parents. We're going to enjoy the pause, we're going to make the most out of it. But we're fully expecting this to be a pause in the pandemic to end - and fear what the next lockdown will bring in terms of people's behavior.  

Current status

 I wish I wanted to:

• Become obsessed with a map of the moon.
• Build a treehouse.
• Restore a piece of old furniture.
• Restore a historic house.
• Study everything about one ancient civilization, in one particular era, for the rest of my life. 
• Become an expert in one aspect of history or one species. 
• Wanted to get a doctorate. 
• Learn beekeeping. 
• Knit.
• Play pickleball.
• Fall in love with a professional sports team and want to watch all their games. 
• Take jazzercise classes.
• Join Rotary.
• Get a new degree. 
• Write a screenplay
• Make a movie. 
• Produce a podcast.  

I wish I wasn't ravenously hungry all the time. 

I wish I had something that intrigued me enough to invest my time in it. 

Instead:

2021 - not the return to normal

I'm working part-time, consistently, for 2-3 clients at any given time, and it's been fantastic. But all of the jobs are related to the pandemic crisis on some way - I would not had them had this crisis not happened - and that's beyond surreal and sad. 

I'm still home, venturing out only to walk my doggy. I don't even pick up groceries or fetch take-out - I'm too frightened of the new coronavirus variants, so Stefan has to do it all now (he's fully vaccinated). I'm supposedly eligible as of May 1 now, but you have to get a small miracle to get an appointment - my 80+ neighbor was eligible for eight weeks before she finally was able to get hers. I still think I may not be vaccinated until the Fall. 

As those of you who are getting the vaccine excitedly post about your plans for the summer, please remember that a lot of us still have to stay home, we have no access to a vaccine - and that millions around the world have no access at all and won't this year at all. What I'm saying is... maybe lay off the "Look where I am!!!" vacation photos for 2021. And if you can, find someone over 65 that hasn't gotten the vaccine yet, and help them sign up to get it. 

People have been posting since April of LAST year, "What the first thing you're going to do when this is over?!?" As though there is going to be this singular moment when it's safe to "return to normal." I've avoided doing that because it's unrealistic and I don't want to think about all the things I'm desperately needing. 

When I feel safe enough to get on mass transit again - and it will be with a mask and maybe even a face shield - I'll know we've turned a corner. And where will I go when that happens? 

• To get my hair cut and colored (though Stefan has been doing a great job). 
• To a museum. 
• Maybe to the movies. 

I'll also be willing to go camping (and use a public restroom) and to go into the grocery to shop. And all of that will be enough to make me extraordinarily happy.   

What I won't be doing until I think it's safe (and that means not in 2021):

• Going to an indoor performance.
• Going into a crowd of any kind, even outdoors.

When you speak only to belittle

There's a scene in Fried Green Tomatoes that rings so, so true, and is incredibly painful. It's when the Kathy Bates character, Evelyn, is leaving a grocery store and a young guy walks right into her, pushing her. Her groceries fall out of her hands and when she looks up, he says something to her - I don't remember what. But it's rude. She follows him outside and this is the exchange:

Evelyn: Excuse me young man there was no reason for you to be so rude to me back there.

Boy: Get away from me you fat cow!

Evelyn: [stunned and hurt]  What did you call me?

Boy at Supermarket : Beat it you old bitch!

Evelyn: Why are you being so mean to me? What have I ever done to you?

And she kneels and cries as she tries to pick up the groceries that have now fallen out of one of the torn bags. 

It's a scene that's hurt my heart both because I can't imagine being randomly cruel to someone and because things like that have happened to me. I guess all women and girls have had these moments - where someone, usually a man or someone younger than us, calls us a bitch or does something else to mock us and belittle us, to make us feel as bad as possible, usually with other people around. And they delight in that look of shock, hurt and fear in our eyes.  

The same kind of behavior happens online and, unfortunately, when others, especially men, see the behavior, they pile on, gleefully re-sharing the insults and adding their own. The online onslaught can be so overwhelming that it drives women to not only remove themselves from all online spaces but also to do things even more drastic, like quit jobs and relocate, not just to a new home but an entire new city. Or worse.  

That scene has been on my mind a lot, per an ugly bought of online and phone harassment last year. I've been targeted before, by a man who ran a company that was doing something illegal - I brought media and law enforcement attention to what he was doing and he ended up being forced to close shop, but not before he and a few others wrote some very angry, insulting messages on my blog. But the stuff in 2020 was scary, with phone calls, emails and texts to me, my family, and current and previous clients, as well as videos with insults and threats of lawsuits. It drove me to do as much online research as I could about how to handle online harassment.

Some friends chirped, "Well, I guess you'll just have to not be online!" Um... it's my job! If I go offline, what is it you want me to do for a living? Plus, I love being online - I have been online since the 1990s and it's brought me an incredible amount of joy and lifelong friends, even playing a huge role in me meeting my husband. Also, going offline doesn't stop the bullying, as that scene from Fried Green Tomatoes illustrates all too well. 

When women complain about being harassed, please offer them support. Don't tell them about how they need to withdraw from online - or onsite - spaces. 

I didn't know Lee MacMillan. I've only just learned about her. She was a social media star, documenting her travel adventures and road trips in her van. She had many thousands of followers on Instagram and more than 50,000 subscribers on YouTube. She was gorgeous, and her travel videos and photos are polished, perfectly edited and perfectly filmed and framed, presenting perfect pictures of a very beautiful girl-loving life on the road. She clearly brought joy to many, many people. 

But as is openly talked about by her family in online articles, she had also fought depression, and like all of us, whether we admit it or not, was struggling with all of the pressures of the global pandemic, which had taken away her life's work of travel blogging. In October 2020, she revealed on social media that she had come off her anti-depressants after being on them for several months, and was undergoing cognitive behavioral therapy. In the beautiful tribute written for her Instagram page, it's noted:

MacMillan was an advocate for mental health. She was candid and open about her own struggles. She was receiving help: from professionals, from family, from friends. She had support around her. She was not alone, she was not trying to fight this alone. And yet she still succumbed to this terrible illness. It is more nuanced than we can, or do, appreciate or understand.

I have no idea if I would have liked Lee MacMillan - I didn't know her! I have never seen any of her social media before now. But if I had been familiar with her social media accounts and I had decided I didn't like her based on that, I would never have said a word about her online. I don't produce social media commentary on someone just because the way they travel isn't my cup of tea. When I have been negative online - and I most certainly have been negative online - it's been because I have bothered (usually OUTRAGED) by egregious behavior or profound, even harmful, selfishness. 

You aren't going to see me posting about travel bloggers that don't travel like I do, unless they do things like ride elephants or pet "orphaned" animals for photos or promote pay-to-volunteer-and-hold-African-orphans. To write blogs and produce videos taunting travel bloggers who don't choose accommodations or food options that I would, that dress in a way I wouldn't, or that don't otherwise make choices like I do, is a fucking waste of time and energy and would just make ME look stupid. I don't care if I could make a few thousand dollars a year if I did it - that's a whole level of asshole I'm not going anywhere near. I'd rather be poor and ethical. 

Lee MacMillan was hit and killed by an Amtrak train in Santa Barbara last week. She stepped in front of the train on purpose. In addition to the stress of the pandemic and her mental health issues, her father said that she had been struggling with cyberbullying and, in the days before her death, had been the target of an online ‘pile-on’ to belittle her after she was ‘roasted’ in a YouTube video.

I was lucky - my online harasser last year has no following. His videos rarely get views or comments, including the ones about me. His tweets didn't get retweeted. He had no online army to mobilize against me. Even so, it was jarring to open up social media and see posts mocking my life's work, even my name.  

The person who made Lee MacMillan the target of his derision, who made a video with the sole purpose of gleefully mocking and insulting her, and mobilized others to join in, has deleted all of his social media content. I've already found a blogger trying to excuse him - "it was just a roast." I guess that the roast guy couldn't take all the insults now being thrown his way - he expects others to, he expects others to say, hey, it's just a roast, but he slinked away when that same kind of derision he created was focused on him. 

Yes, let's #speakupforlee. Let's talk about mental health, let's be there for each other, and let's talk about the hurtful, harmful consequences of online harassment, especially when it targets women. 

Beldame

This was me, from November 2016 to January 2021. 

I'm much better now. 

Breaking her spirit

I don't know why some people delight in tearing women down. But I have, too often, befriended such people, or worked for them. 

It's a calculated plan: these folks first look for opportunities to make a passive-aggressive comment, or call into question something the woman has said or done, particularly if they can do it in front of other people. Why did you do it that way?! implying in the presence of others that they had no idea what you were doing or why you are saying whatever it is you are saying. But these folks save the worst comments for one-on-one conversations, so they can later deny what was said was ever said. They also like to entice you into conversations where you think things are fine, great even, and so you share, as they are sharing with you... but later, you hear them represent some comment you made twisted in a way you never meant, or something you thought you were sharing in confidence revealed to all your friends or colleagues. 

The goal is for others to see you as these folks are framing you, and for you to second guess everything you say or do. And, unfortunately for women, it's a strategy that works all too well. 

These folks know when they've made a woman doubt herself. They know when they've stopped her on some kind of trajectory she was on, and now she's not going to do that project at all, or in quite the same way, or tell that story, with the confidence she had just a few seconds ago. They know she's going to become more and more silent and tentative. That realization is their first moment of triumph, and they work hard for more.  

The strategy starts off as little, infrequent attacking comments. And it may never escalate above that. And you may tolerate it because this person is otherwise really great to be around. Or brilliant. Or a neighbor you will probably see every day. Or your boss in a job you really, really need. Or someone your boss really likes. Or a family member.  

Or it may become relentless. And soul-crushing.  

It's all about control. These folks have, somehow, seen something in a woman - you - that intimidates them, that threatens them, so they have to pick at it, if not out-and-out try to crush it. There's something about that woman that makes the person think, I cannot let her confidence continue. And I know how to kill it.  

The word bully gets thrown around a lot these days, but I can't think of anything that better describes these folks. A bully isn't just someone who says something that hurts your feeling. A bully isn't just someone who criticizes you. According to my dictionary, a bully is a person who habitually seeks to harm or intimidate those whom they perceive as vulnerable. 

I think about the people who have spoken out about their treatment by Joss Whedon, someone whose work has touched my life and lifted me up as much as any actual friend I've ever had - and maybe more. I think about what Megan Markle said about her experience in London. And I think about my own experiences, including a recent work experience. 

When I complained about being sexually harassed at one humanitarian job site by a co-worker, the HR person said, "You know that this kind of work is hard and presents really tough challenges. If you aren't cut out for it, you might need to look for work elsewhere." And I quit complaining and asked a co-worker to please make sure I was never put in the same car as that other co-worker, because I really loved that job otherwise, I really needed it. So, not only was the harasser making life hell - the HR manager wanted that moment of control, and the ongoing power that comes with it - I'm so grateful it never worked out that that HR manager was in no way involved in my performance review, because I know exactly how he would have reveled in that power. 

When an employer that I'd left under not great terms called almost two years later, almost begging me to come back, I went back, knowing full well how badly I had been treated before - the insults, the cutting remarks, the humiliation in front of other staff - but I really, really needed the job, and thought, okay, this time, I'm going to be different. And it was different - it was worse. I guess there are people that would say, "You knew what you were signing on for. You knew how it would be. You can't complain if you knew all that." 

Let's be clear: there's a big difference in a tough work environment and a humiliating one. And no one should have to tolerate working or living in a humiliating environment, no matter how much "tradition" is behind it, no matter how brilliant the leader is perceived to be, no matter how much great work that workplace or institution or person may or may not have done. 

You have every right to say, "This is not what I signed up for. I'm out." And to walk away.