Travel, regardless of what form it may take, is a privilege. To move around the world for work, vacation, or in some instances, out of sheer necessity, requires money and time, but also the ability to physically cross borders and to do so on one’s own terms. Some are born without that opportunity, while others have it forcibly taken away later in life. After a period confined behind fences or walls—tangible or abstract—what meaning can the act of traveling take on once it’s been regained?
For writer Ryan Moser, whose essay reflects on a week he spent in Miami following eight years of incarceration, it was an electrifying and overwhelming reacquaintance with freedom, where his first breath of ocean air held equal weight to the roar of a crowd on New Year’s Eve. For Yousef Aljamal, who grew up in Gaza, travel has now become a reminder of what he has lost: culture, opportunities, loved ones—but also a means of helping the Palestinian diaspora survive. Author Esmé Weijun Wang, meanwhile, used her first international trip after a long, debilitating illness to light a fire within her, propelling her out of isolation and back into the buzz of busy European streets and theater crowds.
All three of these pieces expose the power and complexity of travel, as seen from unique perspectives; and, we hope, the agency it affords—if you’re lucky enough to be granted it.
After years of debilitating, undiagnosed illness, my world shrank to the inside of my house—the sensory overload of a new city burst it open again.
Leaving Gaza as a student was a reminder of what I had lost—but it also helps our diaspora survive.
Incarcerated at a facility in the Everglades, I spent years living in the shadow of Miami. Finally, I got to visit.
Credits
Lead editor: Lale Arikoglu
Editors: Matt Ortile, Arati Menon, Megan Spurrell
Writers: Yousef Aljamal, Ryan Moser, Esmé Weijun Wang
Visuals direction: Pallavi Kumar
Illustrations: Gabriele Cracolici
Research: Alexandra Sanidad
Copy editing: Damian Fallon
