The Quirky Habit I’ve Used To Memorize All The Countries On Earth

You don’t need an airplane to travel the world

Graphic created by the author using Canva.

Leveraging a self-invented method, and a supremely fun habit, I now know the names of all the countries on our revolving planet. I also know their precise location on the world’s political map.

It’s an unparalleled high — one that I wish I could share with my Geography teacher from high school, who ignored me in class because of my fleeting attention and my utter lack of interest in the subject.

Here, I am going to walk you through how I’ve managed this feat. From the outset, it can feel like it’s highly complex. But I assure you, it’s not complicated. Read along.

First, I will swiftly guide you through why I was wired enough to want to commit the world map to my memory. Then, I will segue into how I did it — in the most unexpected, unconventional way. As part of this, I will also unpack how I used time efficiently, ensuring that I didn’t need to carve out any extra room from my daily life, in order to achieve success.

If this rather eccentric skill appeals to you, I hope that you can mirror the step-by-step guide I lay out toward the end.

Ridiculously important disclaimer: I do not possess superhuman memory. I was not academically gifted, or curious. I don’t have hours to spare every day, in pursuit of an activity that may never benefit me professionally. In other words, I am an average Joe with an average aptitude. If I can do this, anyone — and their cat — can.

The history of my Geography skills

I harboured a strong disdain for Geography in high school. I always knew the planet is packed with expansive continents and their respective countries.

But I had a level of interest, skewing strongly toward the negative, in knowing what their names were, or where they were located on the map.

All through school, I just about made it across the finish line with my Geography exams. If the passing grade was 35, I prided myself in securing an untouchable 36 (3 life-saving marks for neat handwriting).

I had no genuine interest in learning about the world, and was not even interested in erecting a veneer — just to get by and be socially accepted.

Simply put, I dripped with fear of the unknown, and I didn’t know how to channel that fear, so I recoiled and resisted for as long as I conceivably could.

I mention this short backstory because a lot of adults journeyed down a similar path. Many adults become curious to learn new skills and subjects after their official academic years have ended. This is how I was hardwired, too.

So when I stumbled on the simple, free opportunity to exercise my hippocampus and store each country in a file in my brain, and where each is located, I seized it.

It has revealed my hidden potential to me, and by extension, the potential of our collective — and highly plastic — minds. We truly are creatures limited by our own perceptions and by our own self-engineered ceilings.

It was time for me to break through with this breakthrough.

You can, too. Here’s how.

A map languishing on a wall behind a door

When I was living at home with my folks (a couple of years ago), I was using a room I had occupied for close to two decades.

I had been staying there since my schooling days.

Like a lot of rooms full of collectibles and useless stuff, my room had several hidden objects in several unknown places. It was tidy. But finding anything was frequently a treasure hunt.

I’ve always pursued activities that enable me to multitask. For example, you may often find me working out while listening to an audiobook, taking a stroll around the neighbourhood while catching up with a friend, or breezing through my emails while in the backseat of an Uber.

I relish doing more than one task at a time (if convenient), because I feel that it saves me precious time invested, and thereby creates more room for cherished downtime and nothingness.

Do you relate?

My brushing routine typically takes me 15 minutes at dawn. A few years ago, I would spend this time entirely in front of my bathroom mirror — standing like an apocalyptic zombie who’s been forcefully dragged out of a fantastical dream.

I would brush my teeth and complete the rest of my morning routine.

One morning, while I was scrubbing my teeth, I wandered into my room, poking at things, picking up unused items to see what was underneath, and swinging open cupboard doors with no objective in mind.

Behind the wooden door that led to my balcony, I saw a large, horizontal world map sulking on the wall.

It was a clear map that had demarcated all the countries distinctly. It looked exactly like the one here →

World Map.

In fact, if you’re thinking of adding a world map to your home or office space, the one in the link above is brilliant! I wish I had access to it back when I was learning. It looks so neat, fresh, and inviting.

Mine was dusty. It had been ignored for over a decade.

While brushing that day, I simultaneously started poring over the map. Prior to that moment, I didn’t know that Iraq and Iran shared a border. Neither did I know that the Tropic of Cancer lay north of the Tropic of Capricorn.

I felt charged up — and stimulated — that morning.

The aimless wandering had worked up a novel strain of magic. I was all in and completely invested going forward.

How I now know every country on Earth

Owing to how joyful I suddenly I felt by learning about a couple of countries in the Middle East, I chalked out a plan of immediate action.

This plan was driven by my desire for redemption. I nearly failed all of my Geography examinations in school. Naturally, it wasn’t a positive memory to return to.

I vowed, with my plan, to absorb that entire accessible map. But here’s the key — I didn’t decide to apply rote memorization.

In sticking to the theme of being myself, I wanted to club two activities for optimal utilization of limited time. So instead of attempting to forcefully learn each country, I used the entire 15-minute morning brushing routine to casually gloss over the map every morning.

I was specifically curious about the names of all the countries, and their geographic location in the world. I ignored capitals, the vast majority of the seas, rivers, and other topography that was of no interest to me. I included oceans.

Starting on day one, through a whole 15-minute slot with my toothbrush working its way around my mouth, I ended up splitting the various continents in my mind.

On a Monday, for instance, I would spend 15 minutes simply observing all the countries in Africa. I didn’t repeat them in my mind or try to do a run-through at any point throughout the day. I observed the countries on a day in a week and then moved on to another continent the following day.

So on a random Wednesday, my eyes could be seen sliding across Eastern Europe — Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, and Ukraine, to name a few.

On a Saturday morning, I would travel across Latin America, curiously observing where Peru lay, where Venezuela was hidden, and where Paraguay was nestled.

I stuck to this pattern for one month straight — 30 days in an unbroken chain. By this time, I had visited each continent and country, on the map, about 5 times.

Not in my wildest imagination did I ever dream of the possibility that all these wondrous countries were now permanently lodged in my mind.

Here’s how I discovered it.

I was going on vacation. I didn’t have my wall-mounted, physical map on me. I realized this when I placed my toothbrush in my mouth in the bathroom of the hotel I was staying at.

But I still yearned for that morning stimulation I had access to over the past 30 days.

So I jumped into the deep end. I challenged myself to repeat every country in the world, in my mind. I wasn’t going to judge myself if I failed. I was comfortable with missing most of the countries, as long as I pulled my mental lever and tried honestly.

The route I followed was east to west. The Pacific Islands, to Australia, working my way up to South East Asia and East Asia, to South Asia, the complete Middle East, the Mediterranean, all of Europe and Russia, down to the behemoth that is Africa, then South America, Central America, North America, and finally the islands located on the eastern side of the Pacific Ocean.

Admittedly, this entire exercise took me 30 minutes that morning. It was far from enjoyable, compared to the previous 30 days, and far from an activity I wanted to engage in first thing in the morning, half asleep.

But I did it. To my pleasant surprise, and completely unexpectedly, I knew each country on the map, along with its location, and its neighbours.

I was on cloud nine. But I also wallowed in disbelief and skepticism. How had I done it?

I was looking at a map for 15 minutes every morning, in a distraction-free, calm environment. And with a rate of return outstripping the close-to-no investment, my mind had locked in place a template of the map.

It was thrilling and deeply satisfying.

Over the course of the following days, and when I returned home, I didn’t need to refer to the map. I started running over the countries in my mind while in the washroom itself. With dedicated, daily practice, I eventually jacked up the retrieval speed and brought the time taken down to 15 minutes.

Twin-powered elevation

As a result of unintended consequences, I’ve felt the following, profound benefits from this simple task each morning —

Diving into the map as soon as I open my eyes guides my focus onto a narrow path that requires my attention. This, I’ve felt, instantly switches my brain on — and my level of alertness, at the break of dawn, is fourfold compared to when I wasn’t applying this habit.
Although I can’t objectively quantify this, I’m sure that my working memory has improved. I’m able to recall events and figures much easier, and the only addition I’ve made to my otherwise long morning routine is the recital of the countries in my mind.

How you can own this quirky skill

Pick a modern-day world map — one with all the countries clearly drawn. If you don’t wish to purchase a physical copy, you can always use the ones available online. They’re free to access.
You don’t need to drive yourself insane trying to memorize all the countries. Not in one go, and not over a few weeks, either. My technique doesn’t necessitate using “memorization” at all.
In your downtime, casually pore over a region of the map. Stick to Asia one day, and move on to Europe the next. The route chosen is completely yours. Own it.
Let this process stem from a genuine sense of curiosity for learning about where certain countries are hidden, as opposed to treating it like a high school assignment.
Show up as often as you can, for as long as you want. Again, this is your jurisdiction. You chart your own path to completion.
Once you’ve spent a good 4–6 weeks revisiting countries, try and run through countries in a particular area without using the aforementioned map.
Don’t worry if you forget a few countries — no one is marking you. You’re doing this for yourself, and to enjoy the process (and stimulation).
Keep returning to the metal exercise as often as possible (without a map). You will soon know where each country is situated on the globe. You will also, by default, know their names.

Parting thoughts

I’ve experienced two glaring benefits that have truly convinced me to hold on to this eccentric habit. There are days when it takes me 5–10 seconds to recall an obscure name. But I never fail.

For me, it has turned into somewhat of a jingle, and my speed keeps improving in microseconds. It is tremendously rewarding.

In this way, while I won’t be travelling to all the countries in the world in my lifetime, I can definitely visit them in my imagination as frequently as I want. I know their unique names, and I know exactly where they reside on our twinkling, blue planet.

Join me on the ride, if you wish to. Let’s travel the world without an airplane.