One of the worlds largest festivals, the Kumbh Mela will often have millions of participants gather together for special ‘bathing days,’ on which they will ceremoniously dip into the holy river water.

This portraiture series features not only some of the unique looking ‘holy men’ that wander the banks of the Ganges but also many of the local community that live, eat and pray alongside the holiest river in India…the Ganges.

1.Naga Baba, one of the Naked Sadhus that wander and perform rites along the Ganges during Kumbh Mela

2.(left) A woman carries a heavy load of firewood back to her camp, the wood will be used for a ceremonial Pooja. (right) Swami Yogananda just turned 102 and is active and spritely as can be, practing Yoga and breath work every day.

3.Rajendra, crippled from birth, has shifted from begging to taking computer classes.

4.(left) A baba takes rest in his forest home. (right) This friendly and wise Saddhu invited us in for a warm cup of chai.

5.(left) Along side the Ganges, an old man devotes his life to looking after dogs and puppies. (right) One of the many colorful characters to be found during the Kumbh Mela Festival.

6.A young girl hides in the fields along side the Home for Destitute Children in Rishikesh.

7.Yogi Vishwa loves his morning Yoga practice by the river.

8.(left) Whether in a temple or alongside the road…home is where the heart is. (right) A beggar with his walking stick rests against a wall in Rishikesh.

9.Basanti works as a gardener in the fields of Rishikesh.

10.(left) Mother and child. (right) A holy man holds his hand up in a mudra.

11.Yogi Vishva meditates on the radiance of the soul.

Love Martin Prihoda’s style? Check out more of his work at on website

Have you attended the Kumbh Mela festival? Share your thoughts on the comments!

Photo: Tawel

It’s midday. Not the 12 o’clock sandwich break at your desk that comes to mind nor the 2pm midday pause button that slows this entire country to a digestive halt for its civilized daily lunch break, but simply a natural breath in the equator of the long day.

A young man climbs a spiral set of stairs and takes in the privileged view that spreads out in the valley below him. He pauses, takes a deep breath and then something happens.

Something that hasn’t been heard on the skirts of these sometimes snowy mountains in more than 500 years, yet something that once rang out 5 times a day across most of this peninsula for almost 800 years.

The Islamic call to prayer.

The place is Granada and the privileged view is the Alhambra nestled in the flamenco dress skirts of the Sierra Nevada. A city so famous that it was already called the “bride of Al-Andalus” back in the 14th century when the great traveler Ibn Battutah described meeting residents from far off mystical silk road stops like Samarkand, Tabriz, Konya and India.

The traveler from Tangier therefore probably wouldn’t be surprised as up to 8000 visitors a day from all over the world tick off another of the 1000 places they must see before they die just across the valley, but sheltering under mossy clay tiles from the freezing winter rain, few people notice the lilting words that get lost under their rain drummed umbrellas.

Looking beyond the busloads of tourists on quickstop guided tours, I find that the city is still a place where cultures and people from all over the world meet and more importantly, interact.

I had come on a traveler’s pilgrimage to see what was left of Ibn Battutah’s 14th century Gharnatah (Granada) and to find out if there was any silk left on the lanes and roads that wind up the sides of this sharp valley.

A Surprising Encounter

Meandering through the Albaycin, the cardamom flavored neighborhood originally created to house Muslim refugees fleeing the advances of the Christian north, I see that this barrio still has a human pulse.

Photo: Troy Nahumko

Just behind the stacks of postcards, dish soap and toilet paper are still on sale. Homey Moroccan restaurants, multinational guesthouses and multilingual signs are set to a soundtrack of buskers melding Hendrix infused flamenco under Moorish arches, all of which is punctuated 5 times a day at prayer time, not to forget the full stop of ringing church bells.

The Islamic call fades and the faithful few that have ventured out in the deluge, dart into the new mosque that has recently been added to the neighborhood’s mix.

Looking over to the few still desperately hoping for a break in the weather on the mirador San Nicolas, I notice that their umbrellas are slowly turning white as the rain changes its tempo. Not only have they missed their picture, but they missed the call that has brought Islam and with it, Battuta, back to Granada.

Walking down the Camino Nuevo de San Nicolas, a combination of the thickening sleet and the thought of Granada’s famous tapas drove me into the first bar that I came to on the right.

At first glance it seemed like the cookie cutter Spanish bar; a water beaded draft beer tap set before an illuminated glass display case showing off the dark greens of the olives and golden hues of the different cheeses waiting to accompany your glass of beer or wine…all while the omnipresent TV glowed up on the wall.

Shaking off the wet snow and stomping my ill-equipped shoes I realized that the murmer from the glow on the wall was not in the language of Don Quixote, but that of my Tangerine traveler, Ibn Battutah.

A closer look at the walls proved my ears correct as I noticed that the pictures on the walls weren’t of Madrid, but Chefchaouen, a beautiful blue Moroccan village just over the Mediterranean.

Voice In The Wind

Changing my ‘Buenos Dias’ for the more suitable, ‘Sabah Al-hair’, I came upon the welcoming smile of Najib, the owner of Manchachica, a delicious tribute to his native blue-walled city.

Easily sliding from Spanish to Arabic he told me, “I’ve been here for more than 25 years and working here in our restaurant almost as long.” In between serving beers, laying out tapas, dealing with neighborhood to-go orders and drinking tea he continued, “I’ve been here longer than I was in Morocco, this is my home now.”

Judging by the first name basis that most customers seem to go by, he’s not exaggerating, a welcome feature in the neighborhood.

The young man atop the stairs in the minaret himself is part of this mix, an Asian muezzin calling the resident faithful from Morocco, Algeria, and beyond. What is different about this call is that unlike the pumped up super amplification that roars from the slender minarets of Cairo, the crackly tape recorded versions heard across Iran or the 60+ competing voices that boom across the biblical valley in Sana’a, here it’s just a man, his voice and the wind.

Why the unplugged version in what is probably Europe’s noisiest country? Well, standing just below it was easy to see that the mosque has powerful neighbors and anything that might eclipse their clanging bells, literally or otherwise, is viewed with extreme suspicion.

Integrate, If You’re Quiet

Spurred by islamophobic sermoning, complaints filed against this mosque and others around the country range from the surreal to the flat out unbelievable.

Photo: Troy Nahumko

From the supposed parking problems that it might cause in this largely pedestrian area to possible ‘conglomerations’ in public areas in a country that nearly lives in the street, the underlying message is clear: integrate, but only if you’re quiet about it.

The fact that the mosque itself was built is somewhat of a miracle. Across the country I had seen that permits to build mosques were routinely rejected by town councils and a small but vocal opposition, driving Muslims underground to pray in private homes and even garages. This rejection and ensuing secrecy creates the perfect environment for disgruntlement and anger, the antithesis of the wished for integration.

This overzealous protectionism seems counter productive in a country where secular voices demanding a clearer more well-defined separation between Church and State grow stronger everyday.

Young people with no living memory of the Catholic dictatorship that ruled the country for more than 40 years are asking why Catholic symbols are ubiquitously present in public spaces in an EU country whose constitution states that it is aconfessional.

At a time when the very presence of religion in public life is being questioned, inter-faith bickering seems to only divide the dwindling number of believers in 21st century Spain.

This second class treatment that Muslims face is not unique to Granada, nor even to Spain. The recent vote in Switzerland to ban the building of minarets reminds us that Islamophobia is rife across the some-called old continent.

Racial profiling at airports and extra security checks for citizens from certain Islamic countries only cements the dangerous notion held by some of a modern crusade. A worry for Muslims, but also a foreboding warning to other minority believers and non-believers alike.

Shadow Of Peace

Part of the solution to this suspicion might lie in the shadow of the minaret overlooking Spain’s most visited monument back in Granada.

Here I find Latin American immigrants who have converted to Islam easily rubbing shoulders with young Americans studying Spanish or the sounds of Flamenco that have also long echoed in these narrow winding streets, while natives of Granada buy their bread from Eastern Europeans working in Algerian bakeries. Ibn Battutah’s mix still holds true today.

The people who live here don’t seem to care whether the Pope grants Muslims in Cordoba the right to share a holy place equally or if a judge in Madrid thinks it’s against public interest for the call to prayer to be amplified over their Albaycin.

And if they do, it doesn’t seem to affect the cohesive atmosphere that is sometimes lacking in other neighborhood-turned-museums around the world.

There is a popular saying in Spain, “Las cosas de palacio van despacio” (government wheels turn slowly) and by the time those higher up realize that in the Albaycin there is a unique opportunity to learn from the past and skip other countries’ mistakes, it may be too late.

But until then, I’ll climb the zigzagging streets that lead up from the Darro river and search for the calm ring of the voice reminding all of us that there are other ways around confrontation.

Have you found pockets of peace in your travels? Share your thoughts in the comments!

It’s been a hell of a ride so far / Photo: Bhaskar Banerji

Exactly one year ago today, I (with the help of founding Editor Ian MacKenzie, of course) posted my first article on BNT as co-editor.

That article, Yoga As Blasphemy? Muslim Clerics Ban Practice, kicked off a writing frenzy for the next 365 days that I could never have previously imagined possible. One that would never have had a chance to be complete without your insightful, supportive, challenging, and even sometimes painful commentary.

Each and every comment you’ve made has not only created a powerful dialogue that inched us forward as a human race, but also has, without a doubt, made me a stronger writer. So I can say nothing more than “thank you”, truly from the bottom of my heart. Since I can’t come to your house and shake your hand (or can I?), here’s a little video to show you my gratitude:

Don’t worry – I’m not leaving, just trying to commemorate the moment, and look ahead to the coming year. For that, I ask for your help. Ian and I are always looking for ways to improve BNT, make each of you feel like a valued member of this community, and to bring you stories that matter.

What areas most intrigue you? What would you like to see less of? More prizes? Less junk? You get the drift. Drop us a line in the comments below.

Photo: linh.ngân

Sometimes it feels like my memory fails me much more than it should.

And yet, more and more research seems to provide evidence to the contrary – that, in fact, all information that has ever passed through our brains is retrievable.

But what if all that information wasn’t actually stored in our brains, and what if that means we’re all even more connected than we thought?

Systems philosopher Ervin Laszlo recently wrote a post at Huffington Post asking the question, If Your Brain Is A Quantum Computer, Can It Connect You To The World? In it, he poses a quantum idea of knowing:

Not only are the neurons of our brain thoroughly entangled with each other–so that they can assemble and then process information with lightning speed–they are also entangled with the world beyond our brain. The logical conclusion is that the bulk of the information picked up and processed by the brain is not stored within the brain; it’s stored in the vast information field that embeds the brain.

Laszlo calls this storage facility of ideas and memories (minus short-term memory) our “cosmically extended natural Internet.” From there, he hypothesizes our brain is kind of like a broadband receiver, scientifically allowing for the possibility of extrasensory (yep, ESP) perception.

We know that travel might just make you smarter, and that visiting foreign places helps to see past the headlines and hype. But what this type of perceiving might mean on a human level is that our brains are trying to constantly link in and harmonize with other people, places, nature, and really, the world at large.

Makes a good argument for those who believe we are all interconnected beyond just our DNA, but does it stack up to the reality of a world heading toward harmony?

What do you think of the idea of brain-as-internet, and do you think it can help bridge differences across cultures? Share your thoughts below.

Photo: Illuminating Hadrian’s Wall

Visiting or living in Britain? Depending on where you are today, you might already see light traveling the 84 miles from coast to coast, illuminating Hadrian’s Wall.

This bright-light event is part of the 1600th anniversary celebration of the end of Roman Britain (now that’s some history). The Welcoming the Light celebration takes place in Carlisle starting at 6:40pm GMT. If anyone snaps some pictures, send them to BNT and we’ll publish them!

If you were surprised to hear about Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize win, this year’s winner might be even more controversial: the internet. Yep, the world wide web has been nominated for this mega-honor.

File under the bound-to-be-even-more-controversial file: The Scientist Magazine writes that in countries where the use of porn has increased, the rate of sex crimes has gone down. One study found that “what does correlate highly with sex offense is a strict, repressive religious upbringing.” For more statistics, check out Porn: Good for us?

Is it possible that air travel is bringing back God? Michael Yessis at World Hum questions Roger Cohen’s “half-baked” theory.

The Huffington Post recently shared a sweet time-lapse video showing the Milky Way over Hawaii. Nice way to remember how small, and yet connected, we all are.

What are some other great travel links from the week? Share them below!

Last November, I was lucky enough to attend TedX Vancouver, a satellite conference based on the popular TED talks.

One of the speakers was Neill Blomkamp, director of the sci-fi film District 9. As his time slot arrived, everyone eagerly anticipated seeing the director on stage… until we realized he wasn’t coming.

Scheduling conflicts prevented him from being in Vancouver. Instead, Neill offered this video exploring what he thinks “real” aliens would look like, should humans ever encounter them.

He also discusses the various Types of civilizations (humans are currently Type 0), and the coming Singularity.

What do you think of Neill Blomkamp’s take on the future of intelligent life? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Photo: seagull productions

At the time of the last Presidential election, I was living and working at a backpacker’s hostel in Scotland.

One of the only other Americans there at the time helped me celebrate what she and I christened ‘Obama Day’ by baking a massive cake and frosting states red or blue accordingly as the ballots came in.

When the cake was just over half-frosted, the room, which was riddled with mostly Spanish, Canadian and Australian onlookers, gazed in awkward amusement as we burst into tears, held hands and shrieked the Star Spangled Banner at the top of our lungs.

Since then, I have never been able to think of that day – that moment, erupting with unadulterated national pride – without feeling guilty about how rare those moments are for me.

After all, I travel with a Scottish luggage tag on my backpack.

According to TIME magazine, the number of American flags sold by Wal-Mart on September 11th 2000 was around 6400. September 11th 2001? 116,000. And it doubled the next day.

Patriotism comes in unpredictable waves, and too often, the icon of the American flag carries negative connotations – like excessive consumerism, for example. Recently some new stigmas have popped up: one might misconstrue flag-flying as condoning the war in Iraq, a judgmental religious fanaticism, or worse, a feeling of superiority over other nations.

This last one is what really kills it for me. As a traveler, it’s in my nature to feel quite the opposite.

Diminished At The Edges

Every so often, though, “Old Glory” (as the flag was nicknamed by William Driver, an early nineteenth century American sea captain) can be a poignant reminder of the principles on which our country was founded.

Post 9/11 flag-flying is a classic example of how our country’s emblem can suddenly dump all those unfortunate legacies of our cultural and international wrongdoings and be re-conquered by the compelling and inspirational ethos of our founding fathers – if only temporarily.

Sam Adams wasn’t just a future mediocre-tasting lager. He was a visionary who called for citizens to take individual responsibility for themselves, to carry out their civic duties. And Thomas Jefferson did more than seduce his slaves. He insisted that “the cement of this union is in the heart-blood of every American.”

That’s us, even when we’re haggling in Peru or paddling up the Yangtze.

In fact, Benjamin Franklin had a tasty little metaphor: “A great empire, like a great cake, is most easily diminished at the edges.” Our country’s reputation is easier to nibble at abroad, where there are fewer people to stick up for it.

That is, expat Yanks worldwide are America’s fondant and sprinkles. The jaded trail-bums, the naïve Kumbaya-ers, and especially everyone in between… we are all the edges of Obama’s cake. Unfortunately, we are the edges of the Iraq-Halliburton-Enron cake, too.

This is a call to put more responsibility on our shoulders than we bargained for when we flew, starry-eyed, across our first ocean.

Missing Out

I’m guilty of hiding behind the Scottish flag. And it seems many Americans play it safe with the Canadian flag too.

In Egypt, I was told to pretend to be Australian as we entered a Mosque. Even a friend once recommended a city to me and added, “But you’ll have to say you’re from Canada if you want people to be nice to you.”

To be honest, it’s not entirely our fault that so few of us are willing to expose Old Glory while traveling. Travelers and expats bear the heaviest burden – much heavier than that of everyone at home.

We are the faces and voices of our nation’s past mistakes. We are the messenger, the tangible entity at which resentments can be aimed, the minimum-wage single mom who happens to be on the other line of a 1-800 complaint number. We are the ones who repeatedly and involuntarily must defend, apologize, and explain.

This, the constant risk of verbal judgment or attack, is why many become too shy, tired, over it, or embarrassed to bring a tangible form of Old Glory along for the ride.

At our hostel, everyone had their national pride on display somewhere. Aussie boxers, a South African flag hung above a bed, a Kiwi beach towel. At one point the few Americans congregated and realized we didn’t have much in the way of insignia.

We admitted we don’t usually bring Old Glory with us. And, looking around, we realized what we might be missing out on.

Reclaiming the Flag

The way I see it, travelers are citizens of the world – we shouldn’t bear the burdens of our government everywhere we go, especially if we travel to escape or to forget a stigma we did not choose for ourselves.

At the same time, if we are open-minded, considerate, adventurous, and passionate, isn’t it more important to carry the flag with us? After all, how else are we to change people’s opinions about our country; if we let the intolerant and the corrupt carry the flag alone?

Sam, Tom, and Benji would be ashamed of those of us who play pretend when we don’t have to. Representing the U.S. in a positive light should be a welcomed civic duty.

Every traveler has the right to decide whether they want to blend in or say it loud and proud. Both choices come with a sacrifice. Bringing Old Glory with you when you travel can highly influence how you’re treated.

Yet whether you choose to put it on your keychain, your hat, or nowhere at all, you can’t change where you come from. You can only change whether or not you have a positive attitude about it – quietly or otherwise.

If we’re brave enough pack our national identity with us, we can start to change people’s discriminatory attitudes by setting a positive example.

Rescuing our most meaningful and remarkable icon… Benji Franklin would be proud.

Photo: Aeturnum

Goodbyes have always made me want to bolt out of the moment.

I’m horrible at them, feeling as if I should be feeling more than I am. Or that I should be saying something meaningful. Or at least wishing I didn’t want to hop in my car and speed away.

Of course later, I’m left with the grief of the goodbye, the pain of the ending, the overwhelming desire to get back to that moment and roll around in all of its glorious agony.

The rain falls steadily outside, and I tear up as I write, not knowing if a goodbye I just experienced moments ago is a temporary one, or one that may be more permanent. It is partially the unknown that haunts me, the fear of beauty and goodness disappearing from my life.

Goodbyes are rarely easy for any of us. So it came as no surprise that the BNT piece, 5 Golden Rules For Saying Goodbye On The Road, struck a cord with many of you since connecting with people on our trips is inevitable, and so is bidding them farewell. As author Natalie Grant noted:

The dreaded farewell is the one inevitable remainder at the end of your travel equation. Alas, such is the bittersweet lifestyle of those who are constantly in motion.

The trip of life is really no different – if you are open to incredible new people coming into your life, even when you aren’t physically in motion, you sometimes have to grapple with when and how to let them go. Sometimes I think – no, I know – there is a better way to say goodbye than my approach. Mary Jaksch in her article, Why Mindful Goodbyes Lead to a Life without Regrets, reminded me that intention goes a long way:

Antiquated goodbye formulations, such as ‘fare-well’, or the even older, ‘fare thee well’ reveal that at the heart, goodbyes are blessings. We bless the other person’s going and coming, wishing that they may be well while away…In order to make our goodbyes a blessing, all we have to do is to pay attention to the moment and create an intention of goodwill in our heart.

My mind making a bee-line for the metaphorical open road disregards this blessing, which also diminishes the possibility of closure. So my thoughts return later to that moment, thirsty for the promise of peace I didn’t allow to enter. Jaksch recommends, “When you hug stay close to the one you love for at least one complete in- and out-breath,” which pays “tender regard” to the other person.

Of course different cultures express hellos and goodbyes in their own form, but the key is to feel that heart and breath connection as you share an embrace.

The truth is, none of us ever know when we may be saying our last goodbye to a loved one. Some are obvious, such as parting at a train station to take off in different directions, while others come as a shock when an accident occurs, a surprise move transpires, or an untimely death happens.

My goodbye today included the blessing of a few tears shed in the moment. I guess I’m on my way.

How do you make your goodbyes meaningful? Share your thoughts below.

Aung San Suu Kyi

The political, social and economic tragedy that exists in present day Burma is a permanent stain on humanity.

In the words of U Tin U, Deputy Leader of the National League for Democracy (NLD), “Burma is a prison within a prison.” The thoughts, movements and actions of 50 million civilians are under constant surveillance by a government obsessed with maintaining control. Yet the thoughts and words of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi provide a beacon of hope that a democratic and unified Burma will someday prevail.

Author Alan Clements travelled to Rangoon in December 1995 to meet secretly with Daw Suu Kyi and recorded a series of dialogues with the leader of the NLD. Clements’ involvement with Burma goes back 30 years. This became the book Aung San Suu Kyi: The Voice of Hope.

He is the first American to be ordained a Buddhist monk, and like every foreign journalist entering Burma, he has also encountered the wrath of the military junta by being deported.

The Voice Of Hope

Between his extensive knowledge of the domestic situation, and Daw Suu Kyi’s wisdom and elegance in answering every question put before her, readers will understand just how Buddhism is closely connected with politics in Burma, and why the concepts of faith and metta (loving kindness) are among the building blocks of any genuine democracy.

The Voice of Hope

Each chapter is named after a sentence that typifies the beliefs, sacrifice and struggle that best summarise key points in Daw Suu Kyi’s existence.

It also demonstrates the enormous love that she shares for every person who has risked their life to hear speeches delivered from her compound. She also speaks repeatedly of compassion towards members of the SPDC and declares that they too can show love for the people of Burma.

This may surprise readers, but perfectly encompasses everything she stands for. One cannot help but show admiration for any individual willing to risk their life to hear a political icon outline the real situation in Burma, and be prepared to listen to how and why civilians are suffering.

In the process of unravelling Daw Suu Kyi’s deepest thoughts, Clements uncovers a defiant individual that will not be intimidated by weaponry in the hands of authority, while uncovering the keys to life; love for humanity, education and an open heart.

Daw Suu Kyi speaks modestly and candidly in describing her upbringing, the role of her parents in shaping her values, her frenetic daily routine while under house arrest, life abroad and eventual homecoming to Burma, and unrelenting commitment to non-violence.

The appeal of the dialogue is that Daw Suu Kyi’s answers to some of Clements’ lengthy questions and points are presented plainly and with fervour as if addressing a crowd of tens of thousands of her supporters. There is no place for political spin within these pages, which enhances the readability.

One theme that resonates through the entire book is the tenacity of the people of Burma and their ability to adopt a sense of humour in spite of the horrific conditions that they face. It takes a special human being to constantly laugh throughout years of suffering.

Clements has clearly done his background research to prompt thought-provoking answers from Daw Suu Kyi and in doing so, delivers possibly the greatest insight into the world’s most famous female political icon.

Use Your Liberty

Author Alan Clements

It is impossible to have conceived the danger facing Clements and Daw Suu Kyi, making the discussions and writing of this publication all the more plausible.

Throughout the course of the book, the reader becomes acutely aware of the volatile situation that Burma has faced in recent decades, a scenario sadly prevalent to this day. The facts itself relating to Burma’s political, social and economic demise are not new, but Clements aims to provide shock therapy and reveal to the world the extent and frequency of abuse.

He succeeds in piercing the heart and soul deeply enough and warn us that if we do not regard Burma as our highest priority, then it is not just the people that face the harshest consequences of tyranny. As a society, we will all carry the burden of watching humans slowly die without directly intervening.

Aung San Suu Kyi: The Voice Of Hope reminds us all that the forgotten people of Burma are not just the dead who have been forced to onto their knees for so much of their lives, but the living voiceless.

Alan Clements has presented us a manual for life that crudely tells the developed and most powerful leaders on the planet to stop waiting idly by for a miracle to occur without hard work. This book is the catapult that will launch individuals into taking immediate action.

The message here is loud and clear; use your rights and privileges to help the long-suffering civilians of Burma gain their freedom.

Photo: takomabibelot

Here’s a scary statistic: hate groups grew by 40% last year in the United States.

A Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) report noted that the number of “militias and other extremist organizations that see the federal government as their enemy” jumped up immensely in 2009, with active Patriot groups increasing a whopping 244%.

Yep, you read that right – two-hundred and forty-four percent.

Seems it has been more than a decade since some of these groups have really seen the light of day, but the social climate suddenly became “ripe” for their re-emergence. According to the SPLC, these Patriot groups:

Define themselves as opposed to the “New World Order,” engage in groundless conspiracy theorizing, or advocate or adhere to extreme antigovernment doctrines.

Intelligence Report editor Mark Potok adds:

“The people associated with the Patriot movement during its 1990s heyday produced an enormous amount of violence, most dramatically the Oklahoma City bombing that left 168 people dead.”

Increasing Violence

Maybe even more frightening is the surge in “native extremist groups”, ones that actually harass or are violent toward immigrants and foreigners, with the number of these groups growing from 173 groups in 2008 to 309 in 2009.

Besides the fact that physically threatening people from other countries is bad enough, what does this mean for travelers? It seems to me that in the end these hate groups will, understandably, drum up more anti-American sentiment throughout the world, not to mention give more ammo to terrorist organizations abroad.

Fear-mongering in the States usually equals a backlash in other countries, and unfortunately travelers who are open-minded and wish to connect with other cultures end up receiving the brunt of that anger.

Plus, there is the whole notion that we are supposed to be getting closer as a world, understanding each other more, and trying to connect across land and barriers. This type of news just seems to utterly refute that belief. It’s more than a bit disheartening.

At the same time, I guess it’s not necessarily newsworthy to look at the increase in people who are traveling, connecting, and bridging between different cultures, is it?

What do you think the rise in hate groups in the US means for travelers all over the world? Share your thoughts below.