We often say that “travel broadens the mind,” but can it also soften the heart? After years of exploring diverse cultures—from spice farms in Zanzibar to quiet valleys in Cuba—I’ve come to believe that travel has the power to challenge and reduce prejudice—but not always in the ways we expect.

🧠 The Psychology Behind Prejudice Reduction

The idea that contact with people from different backgrounds can reduce prejudice comes from Allport’s (1954) Contact Hypothesis. This theory suggests that positive, meaningful interaction—especially when it involves equal status, cooperation, and shared goals—can diminish bias and stereotyping.

A major meta-analysis by Pettigrew and Tropp (2006) supports this claim. Analyzing over 500 studies and more than 250,000 participants, they found that intergroup contact significantly reduces prejudice, particularly when empathy and perspective-taking are involved.

But here’s the key: travel alone doesn’t guarantee these conditions. The outcome depends on how travelers engage.

👣 Travel as a Mirror—Especially for Women of Color

I mostly travel alone, but I often reconnect with friends I meet locally—and that’s when I start to notice something curious. As an Asian woman traveling solo, I’m usually met with a mix of warmth, curiosity, or indifference. But when I’m suddenly accompanied by a white male friend, the social dynamic shifts noticeably. Service improves. Strangers become more attentive. Smiles appear more quickly. Conversations deepen—but not with me. The attention, questions, and even respect often flow toward my companion, not me. It’s in these acquired situations that I realize just how much my race and gender shape the way I’m perceived, especially when contrasted against someone who fits a more privileged expectation of a tourist.

That’s when I realized I wasn’t just a visitor—I was a kind of living experiment. I could observe local prejudice not just in abstract, but as it played out in real time based on who I was with, how I looked, and the assumptions others made about me.

✋ Travel Doesn’t Always Reduce Bias—But It Can Transform Us

Travel can disrupt confirmation bias—our instinct to seek out what supports our existing beliefs (Nickerson, 1998). But it can also expose unexpected truths—not only about the places we visit, but about how global systems and social behaviors play out in everyday interactions.

In Tanzania, I volunteered through an NGO focused on women’s empowerment, and at my placement, I was one of only three international volunteers. From the very first day, I was approached with informal requests for donations—not through official fundraising efforts, but in personal, uncomfortable ways that blurred professional boundaries. As I spoke with other volunteers at different placements, it became clear that this was a recurring pattern: several had also felt pressured to contribute, often without transparency about how their support would be used. While I held no prejudice toward the people we were there to support—including a 13-year-old single mother—the experience raised serious concerns. The organization appeared heavily dependent on the goodwill and resources of foreign volunteers, with limited focus on long-term, locally driven strategies. Despite the program’s mission to empower women, the structure often felt more extractive than sustainable.

In Nepal, I noticed a similar pattern in tourism-based businesses. Many catered to foreign clients but lacked basic professionalism: missed appointments, disorganized logistics, vague communication. I saw this again in Egypt and Thailand, where businesses often seemed shaped more by short-term tourism revenue than long-term development goals.

What ties these situations together may be rooted in economic classification. In many so-called “second world” or developing countries, where economic instability and limited upward mobility persist, there’s often low incentive—or lack of resources—to invest in systemic improvement. When systems depend heavily on foreign aid or tourism dollars, it can unintentionally discourage internal innovation or accountability.

But beyond infrastructure or funding gaps, what unsettles me more is the subtle way some individuals deliberately take advantage of foreign visitors. It’s not always blatant—but the intention to overcharge, exaggerate, or manipulate quietly lingers beneath the surface. Some people assume their tricks will go unnoticed. Yet, as someone trained in psychology who has observed human behavior for years, these patterns are often painfully obvious.

This isn’t about expecting perfection—it’s about expecting sincerity. And while I can accept these dynamics in quick interactions—like haggling in markets or catching a ride—it’s far more disappointing when it comes from people I need to work with over several days. In those longer interactions, the treatment feels less like a cultural misunderstanding and more like personal disregard. That’s when it starts to hurt.

Still, I don’t let these moments become fuel for prejudice. I treat them as data points, not judgments—contextual realities that deserve attention, but not assumptions. Because the moment we stop staying curious is the moment we stop learning.

And let’s not forget: travel also surprises us in ways that challenge our assumptions—in the best possible sense. In Tanzania, I met Maasai men who not only spoke fluent English but also had email access, and we stayed in contact even after I returned home. Encounters like that dismantle stereotypes in real time, reminding me that no culture or system is monolithic, and individuals will always defy expectations if we’re paying attention.

These experiences don’t erase prejudice. But they invite deeper reflection—not just on individuals or cultures, but on how economic structures, global inequality, and interpersonal openness intersect. Travel doesn’t always confirm the stories we were told—it often reveals more complicated, more human truths. And that’s the beginning of change—not just in how we see others, but in how we show up—with empathy, humility, and initiative—in each new place we go.

⚖️ It’s Not Travel Alone—It’s Who’s Traveling

Another important truth: travel alone doesn’t reduce prejudice. The impact often depends on who is doing the traveling, and how open they are to growth.

Research shows that travelers who seek real engagement—not just entertainment—tend to be:

• More open-minded
• Better educated
• Higher in intellectual curiosity
• More comfortable with ambiguity (Pearce & Foster, 2007)

These qualities act as filters—they shape whether travel leads to transformation or just remains a surface-level experience.

I remember a brief local tour I took in Turkey, where a middle-aged American man turned to me and asked, “How do you say thank you in Turkish?” It wasn’t his first day in the country, and although the tour had just begun, I was surprised. Even a basic greeting like “Teşekkür ederim” hadn’t crossed his mind to learn. That moment reminded me: being in a place doesn’t mean you’re engaging with it.

So when people say, “Travel makes you more open-minded,” the more accurate answer is:
It can—but only if you’re open to being changed.

🔄 🤝 Redrawing the Line Between Us and Them—One Greeting at a Time

Frustrating moments are inevitable when traveling—especially as a solo Asian woman in unfamiliar places. But over time, I’ve learned that how I respond matters more than how I’m treated.

When I sense I’m being perceived with suspicion or prejudice—often in rural areas where I visibly stand out—I don’t retreat inward. Instead, I use a small but powerful strategy:
I make eye contact, smile, and greet everyone I pass with a “good morning” or a hello in the local language.

Almost every time, people respond warmly. Faces soften. Some smile back. Others return the greeting or start a conversation. It’s such a small gesture, but it breaks through the initial wall of unfamiliarity. It reminds both of us: we’re just people, crossing paths.

This doesn’t mean I ignore deeper issues or inequalities. But this simple habit helps me stay open, human, and connected, even when I feel like an outsider. And often, it leads to spontaneous acts of kindness and connection that would have been impossible without that first moment of mutual acknowledgment.

Related: The Power of a Smile: More Than Just a Facial Expression

This kind of interaction connects directly to Social Identity Theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979), which explains how we instinctively divide the world into in-groups (“us”) and out-groups (“them”). Prejudice often takes root when we define people by their group identity, rather than seeing them as individuals.

But meaningful travel—especially when it includes shared meals, conversation, or working toward a common goal—blurs those lines. “Them” becomes “my host,” “my friend,” or “the woman who showed me the way.” These moments redraw our emotional maps, not just for others, but for ourselves. Sometimes, all it takes is a smile, a greeting, or a shared moment to make the unfamiliar feel familiar.

Related: Ingroup and Outgroup: Unraveling the Fabric of Social Identity

🚶‍♀️ Solo Travel: Stronger Connections, Sharper Awareness

As a solo traveler, I’ve found I’m far more likely to engage with locals, ask questions, and share spontaneous, real-life moments. Whether it’s being invited to someone’s home, joining a pickup conversation at a market, or navigating unfamiliar terrain with help from strangers—solo travel opens more doors to authentic connection.

In contrast, group travelers—especially those in packaged tours—often stay in a bubble. The goals are different: internal bonding, sightseeing checklists, and logistical convenience. That’s fine, but it rarely results in deep cultural interaction. When you’re alone, you’re more open—and more approachable.

Related: Personality Traits: Solo Travelers vs. Group Travelers

🌱 Final Reflection: Start Early, Stay Curious

One thing I’ve come to believe deeply is this: travel should begin early in life. The younger you are when you start exploring the world, the more time you have to let those experiences shape your thinking, identity, and empathy. It’s not just about where you go—it’s about how early the world becomes your classroom.

Too often, I hear people say they’ll travel “after retirement,” treating it as a reward for years of work. But by then, much of our worldview is already set. Those late-in-life trips might be relaxing—but they rarely reshape how we see humanity.

And contrary to popular belief, travel isn’t just for the wealthy. I’ve met volunteers, students, artists, and teachers who’ve seen the world on minimal budgets. It’s not wealth—it’s creativity, intention, and commitment. Work exchanges, homestays, scholarships, couchsurfing, even exploring local culture in your own city—these can all spark the same transformation.

When people tell me, “You must be rich to travel,” I smile. Because the truth is, I just choose travel as a priority, and find a way to make it work. You don’t need five-star hotels to have a five-star shift in perspective.

So if you’re waiting—don’t. Let travel grow with you. Let it challenge you early. Because the longer you walk with the world, the more deeply you understand both it—and yourself.

Related: The Transformative Power of Travel: How It Benefits Your Personal Growth

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📚 References

• Allport, G. W. (1954). The Nature of Prejudice. Addison-Wesley.
• Nickerson, R. S. (1998). Confirmation bias: A ubiquitous phenomenon in many guises. Review of General Psychology, 2(2), 175–220. https://doi.org/10.1037/1089-2680.2.2.175
• Pearce, P. L., & Foster, F. (2007). A “University of Travel”: Backpacker learning. Tourism Management, 28(5), 1285–1298. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tourman.2006.11.009
• Pettigrew, T. F., & Tropp, L. R. (2006). A meta-analytic test of intergroup contact theory. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 90(5), 751–783. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.90.5.751
• Tajfel, H., & Turner, J. C. (1979). An integrative theory of intergroup conflict. In W. G. Austin & S. Worchel (Eds.), The Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations (pp. 33–47). Brooks/Cole.