The class watched as our professor typed “Tell me about Thailand in 150 words” into ChatGPT. We watched as phrases like “warm hospitality,” “decadent street food,” and “ornate temples” filled the screen. He turned to us. “So… how does this description make you feel?”
I listened as my Thai classmates shared how this mere tourism advertisement lacked any depth beyond their country’s attractions. Hearing their reactions compelled me to confront my own position. As an international student who spends her weekends traveling, the discussion stirred feelings of guilt and confusion in me. Had I been viewing my travel destinations as a checklist of pretty things to see? Was my interest in culture shallow or vain? And if so—if the heart of tourism was vain—then what was a healthy alternative to this attitude?
A photo of Little India from my visit to Penang, Malaysia.
These questions followed me as I planned my next trip to Hanoi, Vietnam. I kept replaying that class discussion in my head and started examining my own style of traveling: visiting historical sites, wandering through national parks, and eating street food. Yes, they’re typical tourist activities. But none of these practices are inherently shallow, and every Thai host I’ve met has expressed genuine joy and gratitude for the business travelers bring.
What mattered, I realized, wasn’t whether I was doing “touristy things,” but how I was approaching them. Lately, I’ve been consciously thinking before I make decisions about traveling: Why do I want to visit this place? Is it because I saw a pretty picture online or because everyone says I “have to go”? Or is there something I genuinely want to learn? And sometimes I don’t have a clear answer. Sometimes, I just feel drawn to a place without being able to articulate why.
I’m learning that this isn’t a problem. Not knowing my exact motivation doesn’t make the experience vain. What matters is the willingness to let a place teach me something. That, I think, is how travel becomes more than consumption in my eyes.
And through this reflection, I realized that tourism can be a stepping stone rather than the endpoint. While I have a clear approach to sightseeing, I want something deeper than what short-term travel has to offer. Learning about a culture only goes so far when you’re in a place for three days, or even three months.
Laotian food from my cooking class in Laos!
Being in Thailand has pushed me to think about my future as a way to continue this thoughtful engagement. As an education major, long-term teaching programs abroad feel like a natural extension of the approach I’ve been developing as a traveler. Teaching allows me to move beyond observing culture from a distance and actually participate in a community. It’s a way to learn from people who live here while also contributing something meaningful in return—something that goes beyond the quick hit of “I was here.”
Without the language, without time, I’ve only scratched the surface of understanding the Thai people—their humor, values, and rhythms of daily life. I want to learn more, be intentional in how I engage with a place, and actually give something back in the process. If someone asks me to describe a place I’ve lived or taught in, I hope my answer goes deeper than a tourism advertisement and into something that reflects the people, the culture, and the time I’ve truly taken to understand it.