As I shouldered my backpack and bid farewell to my gracious host, I hailed a tuk-tuk in a rush of excitement and anticipation. I was on my way to Kandy, the mountainous heart of Sri Lanka, accompanied by my friend Mitshi.

Our journey had been postponed due to transportation challenges and personal commitments. Mitshi had explained that Kandy and Colombo experience a weekly commuter surge as many travel for work. Tickets are especially scarce on Friday afternoons and Saturdays. Additionally, we had delayed our trip to avoid the bustling crowds returning to Kandy for the landmark LGBTQ+ march. This event marked a significant leap forward for Sri Lankan society, celebrating the diversity and striving for a future without discrimination.

En route to Kandy, a serendipitous encounter unfolded. I met Raj, a fascinating man from northern India. Despite his limited English proficiency, our conversation flowed seamlessly in Chinese. Raj, having devoted eight years to learning the language, surprised me with his excellent pronunciation and extensive vocabulary. This experience reignited my passion for language learning and dismissed any excuses to not master new tongues. ( Raj became an unlikely ally, aiding us as we navigated the crowded train to find seats.)

Embarking on these personal interactions, I recognized a common thread among the individuals I met: a resistance to being constrained by a single worldview and an eagerness to engage with different perspectives. I recalled a conversation with my Colombo roommate, a businessman from South Korea, who proposed an intriguing vision of East Asian countries uniting in an EU-style league—fostering prosperity and enduring peace. This idea profoundly resonated with me and reshaped my aspirations. I envisioned a future where Asian children fluently spoke multiple languages from the region, breaking down barriers of misunderstanding and hate.

Lost in these reflections, we finally arrived in Kandy after a five-hour journey. Our accommodation was perched atop a steep hill, a vantage point that offered a respite from the monsoon-drenched Colombo and its relentless rains.

Although known as one of the most polluted cities in Sri Lanka, Kandy’s breathtaking landscape left a lasting impression. Amidst the smoke and the smell of exhaust, I found a poignant beauty in the forest-wrapped city with its Buddhist charm. Kandy presents a dichotomy: the pulsating energy of crowded markets versus the tranquility of mountain homes devoid of skyscrapers. This contrast provoked thoughts on the evolution of labor, from the 8-hour workday born of industrial revolution to the 12-hour shifts commonplace in today’s tech industry.

As technology advances, I wonder if AI will eventually return humanity to a more natural state of existence—one where creativity and discovery replace mechanistic labor. The slow pace of our train, traversing 120 kilometers in five hours, a journey that a high-speed train in China would complete in minutes, offered not just breathtaking views but also reflections on the true essence of progress. What is the role of technology, I pondered, if not to advance the common good and enrich the human experience?

In Kandy, where time seemed to move at its own measured pace, I found a city that echoed my thoughts—a city where the old and new coexist, continuously shaping the future while honoring a rich, cultural past. Here, I intertwined my narrative with that of Kandy’s, both of us on a journey of embracing change while staying true to our foundations.