The UX of Being Understood

Are you a Tourist or a Traveler?

Paris night scene with bikes and cafe diners on a busy street.

Paris, France (photo by B Swayze)

Romantic or Messy

The idea of travel can feel idyllic. You imagine sitting side by side with a close companion, sipping espresso from tiny porcelain cups or perhaps sharing a glass of wine. You connect in conversation. You are surrounded by the hum of conversation, bustling of people walking to and fro, the smell of exhaust of cars, busses and scooters, the cobblestone roads, and the beautiful buildings with balconies and flowers.

It’s postcard-perfect.

But the real travel experience? It’s messy, unpredictable, exhausting, and deeply human. And, perhaps not surprisingly, a great teacher of UX principles.

Bonjour, Ciao, and Olá

On a recent trip to Paris, Florence, and Rome with my sister-in-law, we made a pact: wherever we went, we’d start in the local language. A “bonjour” here, a “ciao” there, our small way of showing respect to the culture.

After our quick use of the language we knew, my sister-in-law would gracefully switch to Portuguese (which, surprisingly, often worked better than English!) which she speaks beautifully with all the hand gestures and body language of her childhood home Brazil.

Me? Sadly, I only dabble, I can understand bits of French, Spanish, and Portuguese, but my one fluent language is English.

And when words completely failed us, we used what we had left, our hands, our eyes, and our smiles.

And you know what? They took us very far!

A game of charades as we explained what we needed.
A laugh shared over a mispronounced word.
A grateful smile after as we finally connected.

These moments reminded me of something deeply important, not just in travel, but in design:

Communication isn’t about perfection. It’s about connection.

And that’s the essence of UX.

The Universal Language of Design

In UX, we often focus on flows, metrics, and conversions. But behind every click is a human being, just like the hotel attendant in Florence who didn’t speak English but still made us feel welcome. With deep insight, design can transcend cultural and linguistic barriers.

Perceptual psychologist James J. Gibson introduced the concept of affordance in his book, The Ecological Approach to Visual Perception (1979) later popularized in the design community by Donald Norman in The Psychology of Everyday Things (1988). Simplifying a bit, affordances are cues that help users know what to do, a button that looks “clickable,” a door handle that says “pull me.”

But beyond an affordance, there’s something deeper: feeling.

A well-designed interface can move beyond instruction, it welcomes. It says, “You’re in the right place.”

It speaks through clarity, warmth, and empathy.

Just like gestures and smiles bridge language barriers, intuitive design bridges the distance between humans and technology.

Traveler or Tourist

Here’s the UX lesson travel taught me:

Tourists expect the world to accommodate to them. Travelers arrive open, curious, humble, and ready to connect.

As designers, we should be travelers.

We should constantly step outside our own language, technical, cultural, or visual, and ask:

  • What about users who don’t think like me?

  • What about those who speak a different “digital” language?

  • How can I lower barriers so more people feel like they belong here?

Because great design doesn’t just work, it invites.

It says, “Come in. You belong.”

The UX of Humanity

That’s what Paris, Florence, and Rome taught me.

UX isn’t about making things pretty. It’s about creating connection. It’s about designing experiences that transcend borders, linguistic, cultural, or cognitive.

So yes, travel is hard. It’s humbling. But it’s also the best reminder that we’re all just trying to understand each other, with or without words.

As designers, we get the privilege to create these connections!

Let’s design with more hands, eyes, and smiles, because in the end, the most universal interface we have is our humanity.

When design meets empathy, language stops being a barrier, and starts being a bridge.

Conclusion

I am home now. The jet-lag is gone. Life has returned to “normal.” I am thankful for travel.

When we step outside what’s familiar, we begin to unravel the complexity of being human. We learn that there’s always another way to connect, another way to listen, another way to belong, and so much to learn.

Mark Twain in Innocents Abroad (1869) wrote,

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”

That sentiment lives at the heart of UX.

Every design decision is an act of perspective-taking. Every interface is an opportunity to build bridges instead of barriers.

Travel reminds us to stay curious and humble, because the best design, like the best journeys, begins when we leave our own cozy corner of the world behind.

Two females silhouetted by the large window overlooking a vast view of Florence at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy.

Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy (photo by B Swayze)


Let’s Build What Matters

Every click, every smile, every interaction tells a story.

At Swayze Design Studio, we help brands design experiences that don’t just work, they connect.

When design speaks human, it builds trust, empathy, and meaning.

Let’s create something that matters, something that makes people feel seen, understood, and at home.

Connect with Swayze Design
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The Accident, the Advocate, and the User Experience Designer