All travelers experience things that transform, or should, transform them.
The lovely young woman sprawled awkwardly in the traffic median, futilely seeking the shade of a leafless tree, and the terrible moment you realize she is a leper.
The rows of tethered animals awaiting their ritual slaughter as if from the beginning of time, struggling half-heartedly against their fate while knowing full well its sadness and inevitability.
The wizened elder struggling to raise himself from the floor of a wattled and airless hut, begging an aspirin for a cancer that will surely kill him.
How do I go forth with this knowledge, and how does my doing so tip the cruel balance of the world?