A series of missteps on my part meant that, after a 13-hour flight, we found ourselves in a very non-touristy part of Beijing, at a “hotel” that was more like a businessman’s rental apartment. Within a few hours, we were already wondering if our plan to spend a month there had been a huge mistake.

This man was trying to film us from afar when my husband turned his phone on him to give him a taste of what it felt like. It took him a while to notice, but when he did, they shared a laugh. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

The next morning, our bad mood was emboldened by torrential rains — but after a harrowing ride with a cab driver to whom speed limits were merely suggestions, we finally arrived at the Forbidden City. We had taken shelter under the cover of one of the arched gates and were waiting for our guide to arrive, when we noticed something.

People were staring at us…and snapping pictures.

As we looked around, we realized that there were things about our family that made as many as 20 people at a time stand in line to get their photo taken with us:

1. Our skin color. We were in China for 30 days, but it wasn’t until our last week, in Yangshuo, that we saw another black person. The American mother-daughter duo said we, too, were the first they’d seen in the country. The sight of the six of us chatting in the street set off a camera frenzy big enough to draw shopkeepers out to gawk.
2. We’re tall. My husband Ish is about 6 foot, I’m 5′ 8”, and our sons are big for their age. There are tall people in China, but people seemed genuinely impressed with our height, sometimes even using hand gestures for emphasis. But being tall has its advantages. No matter how big the crowd, we could usually spot each other.
3. Our hair. The boys’ mini Afros may as well have been unicorn horns. People reached out to touch them all the time. Cameras were held so precariously close to my son’s hair that I’m sure there are photos out there in which you can count the strands.

We weren’t the only ones to draw attention in China (people with blond hair, blue eyes, red hair, or freckles were dealt a similar lot), but the attention was overwhelming.

One of our sons dressed in traditional Chinese clothing. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

My husband would be right behind me and then disappear into a crowd of elderly women intent on rubbing his bald head and pinching his black skin. Or my kids would suddenly go missing, pulled by some mother who was determined to have them pose with their son or daughter.

It was amusing at first. And then it wasn’t. We couldn’t concentrate on tours because of all the cameras pointed at us. We couldn’t walk quickly due to the crowds swarming us. We were grumpy. What we looked like was ruining our chance to enjoy where we were.

As a family that believes there are things to be learned from everything in life, we try to turn even the most frustrating experiences into teachable moments. Here are the lessons we took away from our time in China:

1. It isn’t easy being the outsider. Not being able to understand the language and non-verbal cues of a society makes it really hard to communicate. We need to be more forgiving of those who come to our country lacking the same.
2. Having your every move documented gets old, and quickly. The celeb-obsessed culture prevalent in many parts of the world can desensitize us to what it’s like to be on the other end of the lens. Our experience in China showed us how photo taking can go over the line and taught us to be better at respecting each other’s privacy and personal space.
3. If you don’t like having your picture taken without permission, assume others won’t as well. After China, we began to think twice about photographing locals just because we could. If we didn’t know the language, we’d motion to the camera and secure a nod before releasing the shutter. If anyone looked uneasy or refused, we moved on.
4. You have the right to say no. This was an especially important lesson for our kids, and provided an opportunity to show them the power of their own voice. Our guide taught them how to say “No, thank you” in Mandarin and empowered them to refuse a photo if they wanted. If someone approached us, we asked the kids if they wanted to be a part of it rather than answering for them. Their confidence grew when they knew their opinions would be respected.
5. There’s almost always common ground. We stumbled upon a local park where, for a few dollars, we could dress up in authentic period garb and pose for photos. Though the outdoor stage meant that, once dressed, the entire park could see us in full regalia, we jumped at it. After putting on our hats and robes, we stood together for the world to see. People came running over, cameras out, laughing and pointing. We caught a glimpse of ourselves and laughed right along with them.

Heather Greenwood Davis and her family were recognized as Travelers of the Year by Traveler magazine in 2012. Learn more about their journey on globetrottingmama.com and on Twitter @GreenwoodDavis. 

My kids.

Of course, they liked the idea of a safari. I’d told them about how we would bump along the great plains of Kenya and Namibia in a high-seated jeep, spying lions, elephants, and zebras through our binoculars and, perhaps — even thrillingly — up close.

What I neglected to tell them is that safaris require much more than a desire to see the animals. They require patience. It’s possible to be out in the fields for hours and only see baboons and gazelles. Beautiful in their own right, but not exactly the thrill the kids were after.

The Davis family poses in their safari jeep. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

It’s that lack of excitement in the field that actually makes a safari magical — the anticipation of it all. It’s the way your heart jumps when the lump you thought was simply a large stone…moves, or when you spy something small in the bush, only to realize it’s a lion cub, no, wait, two — and there, in the shadow, its mother, too!

In those moments the entire jeep will go momentarily silent. And then the cameras will start clicking and your family will be among them, wondering how you managed to find yourself right there, right then. But in the moments in between, your children’s tired cries of “I’m bored” may just drive you crazy.

Fear not, adventurous ones! I’m here to save you at least some of the trouble we went through by giving you a few things to think about before booking a trip to the Serengeti or beyond:

Start small.
When we were in Namibia we moved from smaller game parks up to the enormous Etosha National Park. While the animals we saw while at our first overnight stop just outside the city of Windhoek were smaller, the kids — who had never been on safari before — were excited to spot them and way more receptive to learn about them than they would have been if they had already seen a lion. By the time we reached Etosha, they could point out some of those smaller animals on their own and were even more blown away by the big game.

Manage expectations.
Talk to your kids about patience, and remind them that they might have to wait to see the big game they’re hoping for. Make it a game. Teach them the fun of the search, and be prepared to help them pass the time when there’s not much to see. Many lodges offer books (either at the front desk or in the gift shop) that will help your kids identify less familiar animals. Mine loved working through a checklist that included everything from different species of birds to the varying types of gnus.

Help them create their own memories.
If you can give your kids their own camera or let them man the video recorder you’re bound to get multi-media memories that are sure to bring smiles later on. It will also help keep them engaged with what’s happening around them. And having paper, crayons or colored pencils on hand will buy you more time when you’ve spotted something that isn’t moving much. I could’ve watched the lions sleeping alongside the road for hours. My kids? Not so much.

A lion cub and its mother in Kenya. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

Let them sleep.
Safaris tend to take place in the early morning and evening hours. Kids who hate long car rides, getting up early, or who tend to fall asleep once they’re in the car may actually dose off now and then. Don’t fight it. Let your little ones rest when things are slow and rouse them for the highlights. Some of my favorite memories are of bumping along in the fresh air with one of my son’s heads on my shoulder.

Weigh the “prey factor.”
I once went on a night safari with a woman who insisted on getting out of the jeep, in the middle of the bush, to use the bathroom in the wild, and insisted no one in the jeep look in her direction. We spotted the hyenas heading her way only after she returned. It sounds silly, but the Disney-like ramble of some tour operators can lead you to believe all is perfectly safe. It never is. Nothing is. Keep your wits about you and remember that small children can look like prey to wild animals. Keep them close. My sons once stepped out of a jeep at a game reserve where wild dogs were being preserved and the immediate transformation of the dogs from playful puppies to hunters made me very grateful for the electric fence. Remember where you are.

Do due diligence.
Double check the age limits at your intended safari lodge before you book. Not all lodges allow small children on game drives for many of the reasons stated above. Usually the biggest concern is noise level (they may frighten off the very animals you’re looking for) and safety. The smaller the child the more that can be an issue. Most safaris we experienced wanted kids to be 7 or up. Others may lower the age limit if you’re in a private jeep just for your family, or suggest you only take certain game drives over others. Take their advice and think long and hard about your child’s personality before booking the trip. A temper tantrum in the wild can have consequences no one intended.

Know when to call it a day.
Tired kids make for terrible safari companions. Early mornings and late nights can take more out of them than you anticipated. Think long and hard about filling your days with game drives- most lodges offer anywhere from 2 to 4 per day – and pack in time for just relaxing at the lodge. Don’t underestimate what you might see without actually going out to look for it. In Kenya, we had hippo companions at every meal.

Heather Greenwood Davis and her family were recognized as Travelers of the Year by Traveler magazine in 2012. Learn more about their journey on globetrottingmama.com and by following Heather on Twitter @GreenwoodDavis. 

And in many ways, the trip I took with my husband, Ish, and our two sons, Ethan (then 8) and Cameron (then 6), was exactly that.

And in so many ways it wasn’t.

Making new friends in Kenya. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

Our around-the-world-trip was not borne out of well-thought-out planning or a “budgeting to the penny” lifestyle. We were simply a young family struggling under the weight of routine and obligation. We wanted something different. And we went out into the world to find it.

When you become a parent, routine is your salvation. Our kids needed to be trained to sleep, to eat, to talk. There were social norms they had to learn early so they could grow up to be “model citizens.” All the rule-following and conventions didn’t often come naturally, but soon enough I had two little people who did exactly as they were told.

Except, that wasn’t who we wanted to raise.

My husband grew up in a downtown housing project in Toronto, where his world was confined to a 24-block radius. At the same time, on the other end of town, I was growing up in a pampered suburb. As a child my family traveled farther than his — hitting spots across Canada, the U.S., and the Caribbean — but our trips were almost always to visit friends or family. Ish and I knew we wanted more for our kids.

As our passion for travel grew, we took trips farther afield. Road trips across North

The Davis kids clowning around in Angkor Thom. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

America led to a month-long trip across Southeast Asia and eventually to Peru. The more we saw, the more we wanted to see.

And as the kids began to join us on travels, we couldn’t help but wonder what kind of people could they become if they grew up thinking of the world as their neighborhood. How would it change them if they knew more about a place than that a tsunami had hit it or that people there were “poor?” How would it change their lives to have a friend in Thailand, or Cairo, or Paris? Who could they become if their eyes were opened now, as kids, before they started believing the stereotypes they saw all around them?

We wanted to find out.

And so in June 2011, we set out for one year of seeing all we could. We left home with one bag each, a list of countries we’d try to get to, and only a few plane tickets and fixed dates in mind. The plan was to abandon our routines: We’d sleep when we were tired and wake when our bodies told us to. We’d eat when we were hungry, not when the lunch bell rang. We would focus all of our energy on each other, our experiences, and the people in the places we were visiting.

It was a magical year. Kids who could barely swim when we left were suddenly confident enough to jump into (seemingly) bottomless lakes in Thailand, a place where their curiosity led them to street-side checker matches with men three times their age and had them pointing out Canada on a map to orphans half their age.

Cameron feeding an infant at an orphanage in Shanghai. (Photograph by Heather Greenwood Davis)

As parents, we were tested with questions we couldn’t answer (“But why would anyone make them slaves, mommy?” in Zanzibar, and “So she’ll never leave Vietnam, ever?” in Mui Ne), and rewarded with a chance to bear daily witness as our children grew. Soon we had kids who never questioned women in burkas or men in sarongs because they understood that “that’s just the way they do things here.”

For our family, it was a year of transformative joy. Without the confines of soccer schedules and school days, we found each other again and again — in the Thar Desert, in the Valley of the Kings, on the river Nile. We held hands more, four of us across or two by two. We climbed on the backs of camels and elephants and ostriches. We sailed on zip-lines, crammed into packed buses, and rocked along in overnight trains in China. We traveled with our eyes wide open and came home with the memories firmly imprinted on our brains.

And as it turns out, that’s exactly what were were seeking: The ability to close our eyes at any moment and be there again. Just the four of us, exploring the world together.

Heather Greenwood Davis and her family were recognized as Travelers of the Year by National Geographic Traveler in 2012. Learn more about their journey by reading Heather’s blog, globetrottingmama.com and following her on Twitter @GreenwoodDavis. 

• SPECIAL NOTE: Heather will be speaking about her experience traveling around the world with kids (along with three other Travelers of the Year honorees) in Washington, D.C. on Tuesday, February 5th. If you’re in the area, please join us!