Maybe you’ve heard the saying a Sunday well spent brings a week of content. If you’re like me, you’ve probably heard it condescendingly from the pits of your own consciousness while the question “Are you still watching “The Office”?” awaits your response. I’ve tried setting Sunday productivity schedules time and again, but only one routine ever really stuck.
Nearly every Sunday for five years, promptly at 9:00 pm, you could find me discussing international politics over Persian-style sour cherry rice in Tehran, weaving through impromptu parades to reach the nearest food stand on the streets of Salvador, or slurping bún chả with President Obama in Hanoi. Well, vicariously anyway.
Twelve seasons and I never missed an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown. Every Sunday, my family and I would tune in as he explored a different city, region, village, and nation the best way he knew how: through its cuisine. I had grown enamored with his unique brand of storytelling in an earlier series documenting his travels and food ventures called No Reservations. There, too, he had embraced the concept of getting to know people from across a table. He consistently pushed the boundaries of regular television and journalism by giving a platform to cultures in places most people, nonetheless Americans, had never even thought about going.
Bourdain recognized food and family as the greatest equalizers in the human experience; and, as the complete antithesis of the “ugly American” stereotype, he used them to truly step into the lives of others in order to understand their worldview. In Parts Unknown, he examined the deep-seeded cultural impacts of colonialism, highlighted the commonalities between war torn ethnic groups, and praised the mastery of complex culinary techniques by the average grandma in far-off, remote villages. The man loved food, but every episode made apparent that he cared much more deeply about the people who made it.
Seeing the world through his uniquely dark optimism every week made me want to know it even more. So without failure, my family and I assembled in front of the T.V. (snacks on hand to ease our jealous stomachs) to embark on another adventure with Tony every week. Parts Unknown became one of the few programs my whole family could agree on and the ONLY scheduled event we were never late to. We looked forward to Bourdain making us laugh, making us debate, and, inevitably, making us hungry.
These days, though, Sunday evenings at my parents’ house are a little different. After a lifelong battle with depression, Bourdain took his own life early last June.
I remember hearing the tragic news first thing in the morning on June 8th, and struggling to understand what I was reading. His death has felt like the loss of a member of my own family.
In every sense of the word, Anthony Bourdain had become a mentor to me. His deep respect and appreciation for the traditions of people unlike himself, along with his profound gratitude for their willingness to open up and share with him, inspired me to recognize the humanity in all people and to seek understanding above all else. I admired how he artfully commanded a space with his wisdom and wit, while still managing to humbly take a backseat and let those he encountered tell their own stories. Bourdain encouraged me to share my perspective, and to recognize, celebrate, and honor the perspectives of others. The genuine depth of his interest and care for people is inimitable—although, I would argue we should all do more to try.
This year, in an effort to memorialize Bourdain, world-renowned chefs Éric Ripert and José Andrés (two long-time friends of his that I regularly enjoyed watching him torment and tease on the show) announced on Twitter last month their intent to celebrate his life today on what would have been his 63rd birthday. In a campaign they’ve titled #Bourdain Day, they called on the entire world to celebrate by “cheering to Tony—anywhere you want, with anyone you want”.
I’ve looked forward to today for a month, and just as I expected, it’s felt great to scroll through all of the posts, videos, and hashtagged tributes to Anthony Bourdain on social media. It’s been moving to learn about and connect with others who also felt inspired by his life and work. It all makes me feel a little less silly for feeling so deeply the loss of someone I never actually knew.
Today and everyday it’s important to me to embrace Anthony Bourdain’s spirit and to encourage more people in this world to do the same. I honestly believe it would be a better place if we all did. So I wanted to share just some of Bourdain’s words that have meant the most to me. I hope they embolden you to try something new, to read a little and write a little and eat a little, and to spend just a bit more time connecting with others in this crazy human experience we all share. Cheers, Tony!
“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”
“If you’re going to intersect anywhere, it’s going to be over food–and how open you are to receiving that food and whatever intent was behind it. I’ve gotten along with people everywhere in this world and heard some incredible stories largely because I sit down without an agenda and ask the very simple question: ‘What’s for dinner? What makes you happy'”
“It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn. Maybe that’s enlightenment enough–to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom, at least for me, means realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.”
“If I do have advice for anybody, any final thought, if I’m advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The extent to which you can walk in somebody else’s shoes–or to at least eat their food– it’s a plus for everybody. Open your mind.
Get up off the couch. Move.”
If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, know that you are NOT alone. Talk to someone you trust or reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or text “START” to 741-741
