Experience

Every now and then, I find myself talking about traveling and living abroad. Okay, whom am I kidding? This actually occurs quite often. So, today, I found myself talking about Rome with a couple friends who both spent some time there.

Now, I hated Rome, which causes many to crinkle their brow and look at me with disapproving anger. When I tell people this, it’s like I have said I hate sunshine or babies. For the life of them, they cannot understand how I, of all people, could not like Rome.

The reason I didn’t like Rome is fairly simple. I was a poor nineteen-year-old American backpacker there in the summer time (the height of tourist season). The city was dirty, most of the sites were closed for repairs and everyone I met was really, really mean. That, and a train conductor tried to extort money from me, which led to a brutal fistfight and me crapping my pants (yes, that actually happened).

People usually dismiss my opinion of Rome with a simple “you had a bad experience.” This statement, though, is rather empty. Of course, I had a bad experience. Everything is experience. Every place one goes, person one meets and piece of food one eats is an experience. One’s like or dislike of anything is based purely on one’s own personal experience.

Some would argue that if I had more experiences there, my opinion would improve. People use this “limited exposure” argument for a lot of things. When you hate someone, people say, “Once you get to know him, he’s not that bad.” When you hate a food, people say, “It is a refined taste.” When you hate music, people try to introduce you to more of it. They expect that with more exposure, one will come around.

There is some merit to that argument. Certainly, limited experience gives one a skewed picture of something. There is no denying this. But, it should be noted that a limited experience is still an experience. Lovers of things dismiss other’s limited experience as no experience, which is a serious mistake.

A person allergic to peanut butter may not know peanut butter well, but their limited experience is important. A victim of a rape may only know a rapist for a few minutes, but their experience is important.

After all, ample experience also gives people a skewed picture of something. Irrational sentimentality begins to develop for people, places and things over time. One learns to ignore the bad, become numb to it, and only focus on the good. A friend from Hungary one told me that the old bread lines didn’t seem so bad. Everyone stood in them everyday. It was normal and no one really minded.

Take DC- I have lived here nearly six years. To me, it’s a pretty good town. The crime isn’t so bad because I have learned to shelter myself from it. I know which parts of town I like and I know which modes of transportation to take. Furthermore, I know the people, the restaurants and bars I don’t like and I avoid them. In a sense, I have crafted my own DC that it vastly different from anything a stranger would stumble upon. In many ways, a stranger wandering around DC without bias sees a truer DC than I know.

The naïve should naturally respect experience, but the adept should also, in turn, respect fresh eyes.