Micro-interview with Lourdes Martin
In this exclusive micro-interview, journalist Lourdes Martin shares the evolution of her popular blog, Please, Do Tell, from personal travel reflections to a powerful platform focused on human rights. Discover how she navigates the complexities of global issues, the transformative power of intentional travel, and the objects that tell a deeper story about the world.
Can you share the story behind Please, Do Tell? What inspired the launch initially?
After earning my degree in International Human Rights, I found myself emotionally drained. The work was important—deeply meaningful—but I realized I didn’t have the bandwidth to stay immersed in such heavy issues day in and day out. I needed space to breathe, to create, and to reconnect with a different part of myself. The blog began as a personal space for reflection and writing, but it quickly evolved into something larger: a place where others could slow down with me and discover people and places around the world through a more thoughtful lens.
It wasn’t about fast itineraries or bucket lists—it was about staying long enough to learn a neighborhood’s rhythm, to meet locals, and to find meaning in the quieter moments of travel. Please, Do Tell became a way to share not just where I was going, but how I was seeing—and who I was meeting along the way. Over time, it grew into a community that valued connection, curiosity, and the belief that travel, when undertaken slowly and with intention, has the power to restore and transform.
The editorial mission of Please, Do Tell has shifted in our current political landscape to train a lens on human rights. Can you explain your thought process with that shift and how you plan to build on it going forward?
Please, Do Tell has always been rooted in storytelling that bridges place, identity, and culture. But lately, I’ve felt a strong pull back to my roots in international human rights—I hold an M.S. in Global Affairs with a focus on human rights, and that lens has always shaped how I see the world. Maybe it’s because of what’s unfolding here in the U.S. and around the world—the erosion of democracy, the rise in authoritarianism, the targeting of migrants and marginalized communities.
It no longer feels sufficient to tell beautiful travel stories without also reckoning with the political and human realities shaping those places. The stories I want to tell now are still grounded in curiosity and connection, but with a sharper focus on justice, resilience, and what it means to belong. For now, I plan to continue writing about these issues via my newsletter on Substack and for other media outlets.
For many people in the U.S., it can feel like we’re living in the upside-down. What are your thoughts on how travel can alleviate some of the unease and perhaps even provide a bit of emotional and creative reset?
One of the most healing things about travel, for me, is how it pulls you out of your everyday bubble and drops you into a much bigger world. When you’re stuck in the same routines and the constant noise of the news cycle, it’s easy to forget that other ways of living exist. But stepping into a new place—hearing a different language, observing the rhythm of someone else’s day, noticing what’s sacred or ordinary in another culture—can shift something in you. It reminds you that your reality isn’t the only one. That the world is layered and full of beauty, even in hard times. That perspective alone can be grounding, even healing. It creates space for awe. And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need to feel like ourselves again. Last summer, my husband and I spent seven weeks in Mexico City, and I came home completely reset—emotionally, creatively, spiritually. I felt refilled. Reoriented. The noise was still there, but I felt lighter.
The theme of this issue is Objects– are there things beyond the basics that you always travel with?
Beyond the basics, I always pack a notebook– it’s my way of catching whatever rises to the surface while I travel. Thoughts, passing observations, fragments of conversation… things I might not even notice at home suddenly feel rich with meaning. Being in a new place always stirs something loose in me, and writing helps me sort through it. The notebook becomes a kind of companion—part memory-keeper, part sounding board. Travel has also been a powerful creative trigger. New surroundings, new smells, new textures—they always spark fresh ideas.
Your blog used to include a well-edited shop called Recuerdos, where you featured items from around the globe. Besides typical souvenirs, what objects do you think can more deeply tell a story about the people of a country?
Yes, I launched Recuerdos during the pandemic as a way to help people travel from home—through objects that tell a deeper story. Beyond typical souvenirs, I’ve always been drawn to things that carry the weight of daily life and memory. Souvenirs aren’t just keepsakes—they’re part of your travel story, a tangible way to revisit a place long after you’ve left.
A hand-embroidered pouch from Chiapas, a bar of chocolate made by Indigenous women in the highlands, saffron and spice blends from Afghan women reclaiming their livelihoods, a beeswax candle poured by Syrian refugees, or a clay cup shaped in the hills of Oaxaca—these aren’t just items. They carry scent, texture, and story. They remind us that even in the hardest circumstances, people create beauty. Every object holds a little resilience. A little soul.
Learn more about Lourdes and read her newsletter, Please Do Tell, here.