It's wonderful to learn about new cultures and to be able to

Hear the words of Stephen A. Schwarzman, who declared with simplicity and truth: “It’s wonderful to learn about new cultures and to be able to travel easily to so many countries.” Though they sound light as a traveler’s remark, these words carry a profound wisdom. For they speak to one of the oldest desires of humankind: the yearning to cross borders, to see beyond one’s own village, to encounter the ways of others, and in doing so, to know oneself more deeply.

To call it wonderful is to recognize that such encounters are not trivial, but transformative. For every culture is a universe of memory and tradition, a tapestry woven with the threads of language, ritual, and belief. To learn of another culture is to glimpse another way of being human, to see that the world is not one color but many, not one song but a chorus. Schwarzman’s words remind us that to travel is not merely to move through space, but to expand the horizons of the soul.

The gift of travel, made easier in our age, is a blessing that earlier generations could scarcely imagine. Once, crossing seas meant peril, disease, or exile. Once, reaching distant lands was the work of months or years. Yet now, within hours, a man may step from one continent to another, tasting foods unknown to his ancestors, hearing languages his forefathers never dreamed of, standing before temples and towers that once were only myths. To move so freely is not a luxury to be ignored—it is a miracle of human progress, and it calls for gratitude.

History gives us vivid examples of this truth. Consider the journeys of Marco Polo, who traveled from Venice to the great court of Kublai Khan. In an age when travel was hardship and danger, he brought back to Europe not only stories of distant lands, but ideas, inventions, and wonders that reshaped the imagination of his time. Or think of Ibn Battuta, who journeyed more than seventy thousand miles across Africa, Asia, and beyond, recording the vast richness of human diversity. For both men, travel was not only discovery—it was transformation, the revelation that the world is far larger than one’s own corner of it.

The emotional power of Schwarzman’s words lies in their celebration of connection. In learning about new cultures, one does not merely collect curiosities, but begins to see the shared humanity beneath the differences. To walk in another land, to eat at another table, to hear the songs of another people, is to break down the illusions of separation. Travel, in its highest form, is not consumption but communion—a recognition that though we speak with different tongues, our laughter, our tears, our hopes, and our fears are alike.

The lesson for us is clear: do not take for granted the ease with which we may travel, nor the richness of the cultures that surround us. To remain enclosed in one’s own world is to live half a life. To step beyond it is to live fully, to grow wiser, humbler, and kinder. If you wish to be truly educated, you must go not only to books, but to people—to listen to their stories, to walk their streets, to see through their eyes.

Practical wisdom follows: whenever you travel, seek not only entertainment but understanding. Learn the history of the land, respect its traditions, speak even a few words of its language. Ask questions not as a critic, but as a student. And even when you cannot travel far, look for the cultures near you—in your neighbors, your coworkers, your community. For every encounter with difference is an opportunity to widen the heart.

So let Schwarzman’s words endure: “It’s wonderful to learn about new cultures and to travel to many countries.” For they remind us of a timeless truth: the world is vast, and we are small, but in learning from one another we grow larger in spirit. Embrace the gift of travel, whether near or far, and let every journey make you not only a witness to beauty, but a builder of peace among nations.