I'm passionate and I travel the world not just as a tourist but

Hear the fervent words of John Galliano, who declared: “I’m passionate and I travel the world not just as a tourist but to understand cultures… I’ve lived with Masai tribe… I travel the world and bring it back in the form of a research book that would become the starting point for the collection.” These words are not the idle musings of a wanderer, but the confession of an artist who has given his life to the pursuit of truth through creation. For Galliano reminds us that there are two ways to travel: as the tourist, who looks only with the eye, and as the seeker, who looks with the soul.

Mark this distinction, O listener. The tourist collects sights, souvenirs, fleeting pleasures. But the seeker, the true traveler, collects understanding. He does not skim the surface of the world but dives into its depths. To live among the Masai, to eat their food, to walk their plains, to hear their stories—not as spectacle, but as communion—is to become part of their rhythm, if only for a time. Galliano’s words reveal a higher form of travel: not the consumption of culture, but the honoring of it.

Consider, as example, the journey of Herodotus, the ancient Greek often called the Father of History. He did not merely visit lands; he lived among their peoples, recording their customs, their beliefs, their ways of life. His writings, though filled with myth and marvel, preserved the voices of many cultures otherwise forgotten. Like Galliano, Herodotus carried the world back with him, not in trinkets, but in words and stories that became the foundation of understanding. So too does Galliano carry the essence of his travels back into his collections, so that garments may become vessels of memory, history, and spirit.

Yet Galliano also reveals the heart of the artist’s work: that creation is born from immersion. One cannot invent from emptiness; one must drink deeply of life, of people, of earth and sky. The research book he speaks of is more than paper and ink—it is a vessel of lived experience, a gathering of colors, textures, emotions, and truths. From it flows the artistry of design, where fashion ceases to be mere clothing and becomes a bridge between peoples, a celebration of diversity transfigured into beauty.

But let us not think this teaching belongs only to artists. The principle is universal: to bring forth anything of worth, one must first immerse oneself in life. The scientist must study the natural world, the leader must understand the people, the teacher must live among students. Without immersion, without humility, without understanding, creation is hollow. Galliano’s passion teaches us that to contribute meaningfully to the world, one must first receive deeply from it.

The lesson for us is clear: when you travel, do not walk as a stranger skimming the surface. Sit with the people. Learn their songs. Share their bread. Listen to their histories, not as curiosities, but as wisdom. Then, when you return, do not hoard what you have learned. Transform it—into writing, into teaching, into art, into life that enriches others. In this way, your travels become not only your own treasure but a gift to the world.

Therefore, O seeker of truth, embrace Galliano’s example. Be passionate, not passive. Travel not merely for pleasure, but for knowledge, for communion, for transformation. Carry the wisdom of cultures back with you, and let it shape what you create, how you live, and what you give. For the world does not need more tourists—it needs more seekers, more learners, more builders of bridges. And when you live this way, your life itself will become like Galliano’s collection: a woven tapestry of many peoples, many stories, and one shared humanity.