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Reason and Rhyme
Reason and Rhyme
A Man Rode A Train
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The feeling of standing in a train during rush hour, with one’s body pressed tightly against strangers—a sardine amongst many sardines—cannot be a pleasant one. One fidgets uncomfortably, resisting the urge to throw an elbow to the person on your right, simply because personal space is being violated. When the train shudders to a halt, its passengers pour out hastily and silently. Eyes never meet. The train is a mere tool used to fulfill a certain purpose: to get to where one must go. One cannot find joy in it—no passion; rather, it is a routine that one has to follow in order to get to school, to the office, or to the mall. This travel is work-related. It is not done for enjoyment, but is instead done as a stepping stone. The reason for such travel is not within itself. Tiresome and repetitive, it is done because it must be done.

But others may spend thousands for that experience. Imagine a prosperous tourist from another country riding that same train. His curiosity radiates from the top of his carefully styled hair to the toes of his polished shoes. The feeling of being cloistered by strangers is not claustrophobic—instead, it is a unique and memorable sensation—one that ought to be recalled for future value. He has no purpose in riding the train except for the experience of doing so. Unlike the others who were traveling for work, this passenger is traveling for fulfillment.

There are distinct differences between these two types of travelers: the first travels for necessity, the latter travels for satisfaction. But where does this fulfillment come from? What is it about travel that compels a person to slave away at a job for an entire year, for a mere week-long trip in another country? Why work so hard when the end result is just a train ride—a train ride that some people may even despise? What causes this mystification of travel?

Market value.
John Berger, in his book “Ways of Seeing,” recognizes how people mystify the things they see in life—whether it be art, relic or an idea. “The art of the past is being mystified because a privileged minority is striving to invent a history which can retrospectively justify the roles of the ruling classes,” Berger claims. If Berger were to interpret the excited (perhaps spiritual?) gaze of that man who found a sense of satisfaction in riding the train, he would have scoffed at the “bogus religiosity” that the man exhibited. By being on the train, the man was confirming his wealth and proving his superiority over those in a lower social class than he. “Mystification!” Berger would have yelled. To him, the man’s view of the ride’s impressiveness—its sanctity—sprouted from its market value. How much did that man spend for that experience? After all, he could have easily bought a cheap book on that country or that railway and soaked up the culture from there, but he chose to fly to a foreign land to view it firsthand—for a very simple experience like riding a train. What else could possibly motivate him?

This man, Berger would have said, is explaining away what is evident. It was a train ride. Why make it into a somewhat religious experience? The other passengers certainly didn’t. To Berger, that man’s presence in that train was political. The man viewed his ride as an impressive and mysterious accomplishment, which would be a particular form of snobbery considering that such an attitude would be a way of considering one’s mind more “cultured” than ordinary people.

But the fact that the train ride cost a lot of money, did that raise the significance of his experience? Being on that train pleased him. But was it merely because the market price of his journey was a reflection of its spiritual value? Personally, as a fairly wealthy traveler, was he different from the other passengers, with their blank or irritated expressions, because he set himself above others, or because he saw travel in a different way?

Prestige.
Juliet Schor in “The Culture of Consumerism” implies that people purchase things and desire things because they want to project an image of success. Just like a man who buys a Ferrari in a traffic congested country, what we buy or achieve is done for the sake of those watching. We keep on raising our standards because we compare ourselves to people with more and wish to be praised as such. Then, what we want suddenly becomes what we need.

Travel, if viewed from this circumstance, is done because that man wants to be able to say, “Oh? That train in London? The one that passes through that famous Paddington station? I’ve ridden in that,” in order to see the captivated, envious faces of those listening. That man may have enjoyed the train ride because it confirmed his impressive status in the eyes of others. Underneath the veil of mystification, the reason one travels might not be found internally, but externally. If a person travels for prestige, the opinion of others may be more important and changing than the experience itself.

Did that man simply want to go home and oh-so-casually say to his friends that he was able to experience a train ride in a European country? Was it for bragging rights—or something else?

Control.
According to Susan Bordo in “Hunger as Ideology,” we humans desire control over our lives. In this world, we are struggling for freedom from that which may have power over us—whether it be our bosses, our parents or our teachers. It seems that whatever we do, we still have to suffer from the mandates of those in authority. We desire the independence to shape our lives. Controlling our destiny is linked to our happiness.

When we travel for pleasure, we are showing control over our lives in the purest sense. In the short time that one travels, duty is halted. Because there is a conscious choice to put responsibilities aside, one feels in control. What tasks lay heavily on one’s mind are unburdened by the decision to leave—as if one were shedding duties as one sheds a bathrobe. A man can dance on the tabletops of a bar in Saigon, then return to his wife in Minnesota without any permanent effect on the flow of his life. When one travels, freedom can be exercised, maybe even abused, since travel is a heightened suspension of reality.

The rules of conduct become more flexible when one is not rooted in a country. Certainly the laws of that land must be followed, but other than that, what one does in another country is characterized by impermanence. Tourists and visitors do not have that tiresome chore of needing to merge into society. Much of what they do will not be remembered. Travel represents not being weighed down—being immersed in a culture you will eventually abandon. Perhaps we mystify travel because it represents liberty.

The man wasn’t forced to ride on the train, unlike those unfortunate passengers surrounding him. His act of riding the train was done because he had taken command of his life. Perhaps he even rode a train to work in his homeland—but what separated the two acts was the fact that he was willing to ride a train on foreign soil.

So what was it? What made him smile contentedly from a mere train ride? What made him take a plane or boat to another country so he could do a seemingly mundane act? Perhaps it is all three factors: the market value of the experience, the prestige in being there and the high he received from being able to have some control over his life.

But there remains one more question. What if that man had been scruffily dressed, with moths in his wallet and only a full passport to his name? What if he was backpacking through the country, content to sleep on park benches as he traveled, purely for enjoyment? How could one explain his mystification then?

Could he (maybe possibly probably) like the act of traveling—for itself?

September 25, 2009 | 7:22 AM Comments  0 comments

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