As I write this, I’m in Seoul, South Korea. Even that sentence feels a little surreal. For years, South Korea was a place on a vision board, and for weeks it was an itinerary. Before, it became an airline reservation, Airbnb bookings, maps, train stations, activities, budgets, weather forecasts, and an embarrassing number of questions I needed answered before I felt prepared enough to get on the plane, it was an ideal. A maybe one day I will try and visit.
Now I’m actually here. And over the next 25 days, I’ll travel through South Korea, Japan, and Thailand. Alone.
When I first started thinking seriously about this trip, I knew it would be a big undertaking. I’ve traveled before, but there is something different about traveling halfway around the world by yourself. Different languages. Different cultures. Different transportation systems. Different currencies. And absolutely no one beside me to turn to and say, “You figure this out.” That part is all me.
As a child, I experienced what it meant to immigrate to a new country and adjust to a different way of life. But that was real life, not travel. And I wasn’t alone as I learned a new language, culture, currency, and system. This time is different. I chose the unfamiliar.And this time, I’m navigating it by myself.
I Wanted to See More of the World
The simplest answer is that I wanted to go. Sometimes I think we feel like our decisions need a more profound explanation than that. There are places in the world I have seen through television, movies, books, social media, and other people’s experiences that I wanted to experience for myself. I wanted to see South Korea beyond what I’ve watched in Korean dramas. I wanted to experience Japan for myself. I wanted to visit Thailand. I wanted to taste the food, walk through neighborhoods, ride the trains, visit historic and cultural places, observe everyday life, and see what these parts of the world actually feel like. Not through someone else’s camera. With my own eyes. There is something incredible about remembering how large this earth is and how many people, cultures, languages, traditions, and ways of living exist beyond the small part of it that we call home. And I wanted to experience a little more of it.
Mostly, though, I wanted to go away somewhere where I could be with God. There is something interesting about intentionally seeking God while traveling through countries where Christianity is not the dominant faith. I wondered what it would be like to experience God in unfamiliar places, surrounded by different religions, cultures, languages, and traditions. I wanted space to renew my faith and to learn what it might look like to truly let my life be guided by faith instead of fear. I kept thinking about the words of Psalm 121: I lift my eyes toward the hills and remember where my help comes from—the God who made heaven and earth. What would it look like for my life to be truly centered around God? Away from everything familiar—family, friends, work, church, and community—who am I when it is just me and God? Maybe part of this journey is finding out.
Why 25 Days?
Twenty-five days sounds like a long time. It feels like a long time too. But when I started planning this trip, I realized that I didn’t want to travel this far just to rush through everything. If I was going to spend more than 15 hours on an airplane to get here, I wanted enough time to actually experience being here. I didn’t want every day to be about checking another attraction off a list.
I wanted time to explore. Time to get lost—although hopefully not too lost. Time to sit somewhere. Time to observe. Time to change my plans. Time to have an ordinary day in an extraordinary place. Time to pray and reflect.
And for once in my life, I actually had the time. I’m currently on a three-month sabbatical from work. That created a window that I don’t know when I will have again. Twenty-five days without worrying about how many vacation days I have left. Twenty-five days without trying to squeeze an international experience between work meetings. Twenty-five days to simply go. So I decided to take advantage of it.
Why Asia?
People have asked me why I chose South Korea, Japan, and Thailand.
Part of the answer is curiosity.
South Korea had been on my mind for a while. Like many people, Korean television introduced me to places, foods, customs, and parts of Korean culture that made me curious about what it would be like to actually visit. But watching a country through a television screen and being in it are two very different things.
There are things television can’t show you. What the air feels like when you walk outside. What the streets sound like. How confusing a train station feels when you can’t read most of the signs. What people are actually like in everyday interactions. What surprises you. What feels completely foreign. And what, unexpectedly, reminds you of home.
From Korea, traveling to Japan made sense. And Thailand gave me the opportunity to experience another part of Asia with its own history, culture, food, and rhythm. Three countries. Three different experiences. One very long trip. And a whole lot of faith.
But Why Alone?
This is probably the bigger question. Why travel alone? The truth is that traveling solo wasn’t necessarily about proving that I could do something without anyone else. I didn’t wake up one morning and decide I needed to demonstrate my independence. I would have enjoyed sharing parts of this experience with people I love. But I also didn’t want my ability to experience the world to depend on someone else being ready to go when I was ready.
Schedules don’t always align. Finances don’t always align. Interests don’t always align. Life doesn’t always align. And sometimes if you keep waiting for everything—and everyone—to line up perfectly, you can spend years waiting. There are things I don’t want to keep postponing. So I decided to go.
There Is Freedom in Being Responsible Only for Yourself
I spend a lot of my life being responsible for things. At home, there are family obligations. At work, people need decisions. In community leadership, people need answers. At church, there are responsibilities. There are meetings, projects, problems, deadlines, expectations, and people depending on me to follow through. Even when you love serving and leading, carrying responsibility can become heavy. This trip is different.
For 25 days, I am responsible primarily for myself. If I want to wake up early, I can—unless I booked an early tour. If I want to sleep late, I can. If I decide I don’t want to do something on my itinerary, I don’t have to do it—unless I’ve already prepaid for it! I’m still me, after all.
If I want to spend an hour sitting somewhere doing absolutely nothing, nobody is waiting for me to finish. I don’t have to lead the group. I don’t have to make sure everyone else is having a good time. I don’t have to solve anyone else’s problem. There is something freeing about that. Maybe this trip isn’t only about seeing Asia. Maybe part of it is learning what happens when I have the freedom to listen to myself.
I Was Excited. I Was Also Nervous.
I don’t want to make solo travel sound more glamorous than it is. Getting here was exhausting. Before I even boarded my flight, I had spent hours traveling by train to the airport. I waited hours for the airline check-in counter to open. I was already tired before beginning a flight that would keep me on an airplane for more than 15 hours.
And underneath the exhaustion was nervousness. I was flying to a country where I don’t speak the language. I didn’t know the geography. I didn’t know exactly what it would feel like to navigate everything alone. There is a difference between looking at Seoul on Google Maps from home and standing in Seoul trying to figure out where you’re supposed to go. I felt excited. Nervous. Tired. Curious. And grateful.
There was another layer to my nervousness that I can’t ignore. I also wondered what it would be like traveling through Asia as a Black woman. Before this trip, I read and watched so many different accounts from Black travelers. Some described incredible experiences. Others talked about uncomfortable encounters, discrimination, staring, or microaggressions. After consuming enough of those stories, I didn’t really know what to expect. Would I feel welcomed? Would I stand out everywhere I went? Would I experience discrimination because of the color of my skin? I didn’t know. And there was no amount of trip planning that could answer those questions for me. At some point, I had to stop reading about everyone else’s experience and be willing to have my own. I prayed about that too. I prayed that God would protect me, give me wisdom and discernment, and help me navigate whatever I encountered along the way. And then I went.
Sometimes courage isn’t the absence of nervousness. Sometimes it’s being nervous and going anyway.
Faith Has Been Part of This Journey Too
Before leaving, one of my prayers was simple: May God protect me. Protect me while I’m traveling. Give me wisdom. Help me pay attention to my surroundings. Put kind people in my path. Help me make good decisions. Be with me throughout my travel and help me have a new experience with you. And bring me home safely.
But I’ve also been thinking about gratitude. I am grateful that I have the opportunity to do this. Grateful that I have reached a place in my life where a trip like this is possible. Grateful for the resources. Grateful for the time. Grateful for the courage. And grateful to God for creating a world much bigger than the small piece of it I know. I don’t know everything these 25 days will teach me. That’s part of the reason I came.
I Don’t Need to Come Home a Different Person
There’s a tendency to talk about travel as though every trip has to transform you. Maybe this one will. Maybe it won’t. I’m not traveling across Asia because I need to “find myself.” I know who I am. I’m not expecting to return home as an entirely different person. But I do hope I return with something. Maybe greater confidence. Maybe more curiosity. Maybe a deeper appreciation for cultures different from my own. Maybe greater gratitude for home. Maybe new friendships. Maybe a few lessons about letting go of control. Maybe simply some really good memories. And probably a ridiculous number of photos. I don’t know yet.
For Now, I Am Here
For weeks, I planned this trip. I researched. I budgeted. I booked. I changed reservations. I worried. I created itineraries. I asked questions. Then I asked more questions. And probably a few more after that.
At some point, though, planning has to end and experiencing has to begin. I’m here now. In South Korea. Thousands of miles from home. A little tired. A little nervous. Very curious. And incredibly grateful. For the next 25 days, I’m giving myself permission to experience this part of the world without needing to turn every moment into a lesson. But knowing me, I’m sure I’ll learn a few anyway. For now, I’m simply grateful.
Grateful for the privilege my American passport gives me to travel relatively freely through this part of the world. Grateful to my organization for giving me the time to step away. Grateful to the Melville Charitable Trust for helping fund a portion of this experience. Grateful that I have the resources and opportunity to make a trip like this possible. And most of all, grateful to God for giving me the courage to go. For months, I wondered what this journey would be like. Now I don’t have to wonder anymore. I’m here. And I’m excited to see where God meets me along the way.