The Himbo Approach to Global Travel

One of the principal reasons I chose my current profession was the appeal of travel. Going places I’d never been. Meeting people I wouldn’t otherwise have encountered. Seeing things that no one at home had ever seen.

Recreational international travel is, for the most part, the domain of the wealthy. But as a researcher in the international development sector, my employers were footing the bill for trips I could could barely have imagined, much less afforded. The downside is that I never really got to pick my destinations. I’ve never been to Paris or Rome. I’ve only seen Tokyo and Berlin through airport windows during layovers. I’ll probably never make it to Rio, or Moscow, or Tahiti.

But that’s OK. Instead, I regularly get tossed into countries I never planned to visit where I spend weeks listening to folks talk about the things that matter most to them. It’s amazing. And it’s not at all like any sort of conventional recreational travel…

The sign behind me says “irresistible coffee” but we didn’t even have enough time to go inside. It was just stop, smile, snap a photo, and back into the van.

My destinations are determined by the research matter.

My hotels are chosen for proximity to government offices or field sites rather than amenities.

My schedule is at the mercy of stakeholder availability.

Sightseeing happens through the window of a van on the way to somewhere else.

Traffic and sleep take precedence over sumptuous meals and local delicacies.

Bringing family or friends is impractical or inadvisable.

Decent coffee is rare, if it exists at all.

Because the vast majority of my travel experience has happened within this context, I’ve developed something I’ve come to call, “the Himbo approach to global travel.”

The obvious first question to address here is, “What’s a Himbo?”

Thanks to Sarah Ellison for the illustration

The easiest answer is simply that a Himbo is the male version of a bimbo. But that’s not totally correct, and in fact bimbo was originally just the feminine form of the Italian word bambino (a loose colloquial form of the word “baby”).

The Himbo is something else — a masculine figure who exists at the nexus of beefy, stupid, and kind. The archetypal Himbo is probably Kronk, from the 2005 Disney film “The Emperor’s New Groove,” but other examples abound — Chris Helmsworth as Thor in the Marvel/Avengers franchise, Brendan Frasier as George of the Jungle, Launchpad McQuack from DuckTales, Sully Sullivan in Monsters Inc., Chris Conrad as Dennis McClaren in the show Patriot (sidenote: The Tick may actually be too stupid to be a Himbo).

How does a Himbo approach global travel?

With delight.

The Himbo is carefree and unbothered - thrilled just to be there.

Wherever he goes, the food is great, the people are sooo nice, some key element of the scenery is beautiful, and any discomforts or inconveniences are incidental. If something goes wrong, the Himbo reacts with gentle confusion rather than anger or annoyance. (I would hypothesize that the word “galoot” has a similar connotation)

Please note that this cup of coffee, unlike many others, was outstanding.

The Himbo is continually underestimated because he’s not pushy and he seems a bit slow. But he’s still given the benefit of the doubt because he’s never intentionally rude and he’s little bit intimidating. And people don’t mind having him around because they feel smarter relative to him and they might need him to carry something large.

But here’s the trick:

It can’t be an act. It’s got to be real. If you want it to work you have to embrace your inner Himbo and let him run free.

I’m not beefy — just a bit taller and heavier than average.

I’m not always kind — I often struggle to temper my abrasive tendencies with even basic politeness.

I’m not that dumb — I’m a lifelong bookish nerd.

But there was a moment many years ago during my first trip to Africa when I was getting off of a plane in Nairobi, jet-lagged, tired, out of my element, and uncertain about what needed to happen next. Up ahead was some muzungu asshole telling people how to do their jobs while snarking about how inadequate and inferior the whole system was. All I could think was, “Dear lord I hope no one mistakes me for that sort of asshole.”

And then I suddenly remembered that I was on the other side of the planet, and south of the equator for the first time in my life, and I was about to experience stuff I’d never seen before in a place where I couldn’t blend in if I wanted to. Why in the hell would I want to be seen as as a high-rolling jet-setter when all I really wanted to do was to see and feel and taste all of the good shit that only that place had to offer during the little time I had?

Something unlocked in my head, a big dumb grin spread itself across my face, and I walked into the gorgeous Kenyan night as a friendly meathead.

It doesn’t all work for everyone. Being seen as dumb and/or nice is oftentimes an invitation to getting taken advantage of or walked over. And of course, we can’t all be bigger than average. Probably less than half of us are.

But at the heart of being a traveling Himbo is something special: humility.

• We should not define ourselves by our physical (or financial or national) advantages.
• There’s nothing wrong with not being the smartest person in the room (and in fact, if you are regularly the smartest person in the room, you need to find new rooms).
• And as far as kindness is concerned…William Penn said, “I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again.”