I don't think it is a particularly unusual thing to notice, when travelling abroad and particularly to countries that are poorer than the United States, how much happier much of the rest of the world seems. I think many travelers (and particularly travel writers) arrive at this conclusion as though it is their own precious jewel of revelation, carefully mined from the dark earth of their own experience. And maybe it is, but I've heard it too often to think that I'm the first person who noticed it. But notice it I did. And bowl me over, it did. Even as I went into my travels prepared by so many writers to be enlightened by the simplicity of life in poor countries and the happiness such living brings, I was SHOCKED (in a distinctly all-caps way) by how happy people seem.
Happy in places without running water or electricity. Happy without fancy restaurants or TV or shopping malls or dentists. Happy even though they lose children and loved ones to completely treatable diseases. Happy doesn't even cover it.
I'm not being didactic here. I'm not preaching that we should give up all modern conveniences (or dentists) or that living in mud huts will make every one happier. But the biggest single shock I faced upon my return to America was not cars or English or grocery stores (though all three were confusing and kind of stressful) but the fact that every one seemed to be in such a bad mood. Grumpy. Stressed out. Impatient. These are things I often was (and still often am) but things I no longer see as a necessary part of my life.
So as I sit in Starbucks waiting for my mom to finish up at the dentist so we can go to the mall and go shopping, I have to wonder at the people around me. Are any of them happy? They don't smile. Most look bored, a few look angry, two are gossiping loudly and expressing their disapproval of another woman's life choices and despite the expensive clothes, the impeccable dental work and the abundance of highlighted hair, I have to say that I don't see a whole lot of beauty- I see instead the exhaustion of trying to appear beautiful, the high-strung desperation and even fear of youth slipping through fingers that were never meant to contain it.
I don't think Americans are happy. I don't think we know what makes us happy. I don't know that I do, either, but I am grateful for at least having learned that stressing about time, appearance, money or status doesn't make me happy, has and will never make me happy. I'm not going to do it any more. Or, I should say I'm going to try not to do it any more. Some habits can't be helped and I have spent too long conditioned to care about these things. Lately whenever I find myself getting consumed by stress I close my eyes and think about my trip and I just say "ok." This will happen. Or this will not happen. I have time for this. Or I don't. I care about this. Or I don't. Laisa Muskela.
I know that much of the world aspires to be more like this- Rich. Developed. Powerful. Globally significant. I'm not one to credibly say what is best for any one, but I hope that we figure out what makes us happy and I hope that other societies aren't so quick to emulate what we have that they lose sight of their own value, or the drawbacks of our own system.
I don't know what the answer is- is it possible to have a society where people don't die easily of preventable diseases without a Starbucks on every corner? I hope so.
Happy in places without running water or electricity. Happy without fancy restaurants or TV or shopping malls or dentists. Happy even though they lose children and loved ones to completely treatable diseases. Happy doesn't even cover it.
I'm not being didactic here. I'm not preaching that we should give up all modern conveniences (or dentists) or that living in mud huts will make every one happier. But the biggest single shock I faced upon my return to America was not cars or English or grocery stores (though all three were confusing and kind of stressful) but the fact that every one seemed to be in such a bad mood. Grumpy. Stressed out. Impatient. These are things I often was (and still often am) but things I no longer see as a necessary part of my life.
So as I sit in Starbucks waiting for my mom to finish up at the dentist so we can go to the mall and go shopping, I have to wonder at the people around me. Are any of them happy? They don't smile. Most look bored, a few look angry, two are gossiping loudly and expressing their disapproval of another woman's life choices and despite the expensive clothes, the impeccable dental work and the abundance of highlighted hair, I have to say that I don't see a whole lot of beauty- I see instead the exhaustion of trying to appear beautiful, the high-strung desperation and even fear of youth slipping through fingers that were never meant to contain it.
I don't think Americans are happy. I don't think we know what makes us happy. I don't know that I do, either, but I am grateful for at least having learned that stressing about time, appearance, money or status doesn't make me happy, has and will never make me happy. I'm not going to do it any more. Or, I should say I'm going to try not to do it any more. Some habits can't be helped and I have spent too long conditioned to care about these things. Lately whenever I find myself getting consumed by stress I close my eyes and think about my trip and I just say "ok." This will happen. Or this will not happen. I have time for this. Or I don't. I care about this. Or I don't. Laisa Muskela.
I know that much of the world aspires to be more like this- Rich. Developed. Powerful. Globally significant. I'm not one to credibly say what is best for any one, but I hope that we figure out what makes us happy and I hope that other societies aren't so quick to emulate what we have that they lose sight of their own value, or the drawbacks of our own system.
I don't know what the answer is- is it possible to have a society where people don't die easily of preventable diseases without a Starbucks on every corner? I hope so.
