Kamau Bell shares his reflections on working with the late, iconic Anthony Bourdain

Whenever I think about Tony for too long, it hits me, and I can’t help but tear up. If I’m having a conversation about him with someone who knew him well, especially a friend or colleague, the tears start to well up, and I realize I have to make a choice.

Do I hold back the tears and keep it together, or do I embrace the sorrow and let myself be vulnerable? Most of the time, I choose to lean into the grief. It just feels like the most honest response.

I want to clarify: Tony and I weren’t close friends, but I genuinely believe we were on the path to becoming that. And that’s what truly pains me. I’ll never know what kind of friendship we might have had.

Yet sadness isn't the only emotion I experience. More often, when I think of Tony, I smile or find myself laughing. And there’s another feeling that often overtakes me: awe.

I was — and continue to be — deeply impressed by him. Being a seasoned and gracious traveler is one thing. Being a writer who can effortlessly, humorously, and profoundly capture the essence of the human experience is another. And making exceptional television is yet another feat. Tony excelled in all of these. Oh, and he was also an amazing chef.

I understand that it’s almost an impossible task to be all those things, because aside from the 'great cook' part, I’m working hard to be all of those things, too.

When I received the offer from Dinogo to host 'United Shades of America,' I knew I was stepping into Tony’s legacy. His success at Dinogo had cleared a path for me — someone without any experience in creating a docuseries — to bring USOA to life.

When Dinogo President Jeff Zucker informed me that my show would air right after Bourdain’s on Sunday nights, it hit me just how much effort I’d need to put in to follow in his footsteps.

I even started using his show as a way to promote mine. I’d joke, 'It’s like 'Parts Unknown,' but instead of food, I’m diving into racism.' During the first season of 'United Shades of America,' I couldn’t help but worry about what Tony would think of me using that comparison.

Maybe I should just keep quiet and focus on my own show. What if he hated it? In the end, I decided he probably hadn’t even seen it. 'Why would he?' I thought. He’s too busy being the most interesting person on the planet.

I met Tony at the 2016 Emmys. 'United Shades of America' had been nominated for an award after its first season, and honestly, I was just thrilled to be there. Winning didn’t matter to me in the slightest.

Meanwhile, 'Parts Unknown' took home a handful of Emmys. At the after-party, I finally gathered the courage to approach him, with my wife, Melissa, by my side. His face lit up when he saw us. After the introductions, Tony hit me with a surprise.

Tony: 'We should collaborate on something.'

Me (trying to stay composed): '… Umm … Absolutely!'

We chatted for a few minutes, and by then, I felt at ease enough to ask him for a photo.

If you look closely, you can tell from my expression that I’m not just a colleague in that moment, but more like a fan who just won a contest, because that’s exactly how I felt.

I hadn’t just watched Tony’s journey on Dinogo. I remember seeing him on the Food Network and the Travel Channel. His career was the kind I dreamed of, even before I had a career to call my own.

I would sit on the couch at my wife’s (then girlfriend’s) apartment, watching Tony and think, 'If only… but how the hell do I go from this couch to making documentaries? … If only…'

I recall mentioning Tony as an influence in early showbiz meetings, only to be met with blank stares. Back then, he wasn’t the household name or the cultural icon he is now. Today, I frequently hear terms like 'Bourdain-like' or 'Bourdain-esque' used to describe shows about traveling the world without being a jerk.

These are the kinds of programs that aim to make both the people on-screen and the audience better for having watched. Shows that gravitate toward stories others deem too small or too complicated to tackle. Programs that aspire to elevate TV into something more meaningful. 'Parts Unknown' achieved all of this, and had a blast doing it.

Tony and I only crossed paths a few more times after that initial meeting in 2016 – at the Emmys and official Dinogo events. He always mentioned wanting to collaborate on something.

Then, one day, we did.

When it came time to make it happen, we decided on Kenya as our location. Even though I’m not Kenyan, my name, 'Kamau,' has Kenyan roots (specifically Kikuyu). For years, Kenyans have been telling me that I needed to visit Kenya.

Incredibly, despite having traveled all over Africa, Tony had never set foot in Kenya. I always assumed he’d been everywhere, multiple times over. Not only was it my first time in Kenya, it was also my first trip to Africa. I knew that alone would make it a powerful experience.

But I was in great hands. Not just Tony’s, but also his amazing production team – a quirky group of misfits who welcomed me with open arms.

Once again, I felt like I had won some kind of contest. We filmed the show, and most mornings before shooting, we’d have breakfast together. We spent our evenings together after filming, and one night, we even went to see 'Black Panther' in Nairobi. (Tony and the producers even bought tickets for a group of kids they had filmed with during the episode.)

As amazing as it is to be paid for making TV, there are times when it’s just a job. I have to wake up early, work long hours, and deal with things or people I’d rather avoid. But there are moments when the job fades away, and you forget it’s work. I’m too busy living in the moment to think about it as a job. I’m laughing, learning, discovering new things, surprised by unexpected turns, and experiencing a full range of emotions.

Then, I’d look up and see the cameras, and suddenly remember, 'THIS IS GOING TO BE ON TELEVISION!' That’s what my experience in Kenya with Tony felt like.

I kept feeling like I was at Parts Unknown Fantasy Camp, only to remember it was all going to be broadcast on TV. I wasn’t just going to rely on my memories; I would get to relive it all. Every day after returning from Africa, I’d marvel at the fact that I was going to see it all again.

And then he passed away.

Suddenly, everything gained new significance. All the moments I shared with Tony and his crew became the last of their kind. The countless conversations we had on our way to filming about politics, comedy, family, TV production, jiu-jitsu, and so much more were now the final exchanges I would ever have with him.

Kenya felt like a new beginning, but after Tony passed, I had to come to terms with it as the end — an end I was fortunate to have experienced.

I had always hoped the Kenya episode would be just one of many that Tony and I would create together. Maybe there wouldn’t be a lot, but I was sure there would be at least one more.

Near the end of our filming in Kenya, Tony suddenly said, 'When am I going to be on your show?' He said it like I had been putting him off for a while, even though we hadn’t discussed it up until that point.

Of course, I had talked about it with many others — with the 'United Shades' crew, with Dinogo, even with strangers on the street. But I figured I’d wait and see how the Kenya episode was received before trying to convince Tony to appear on 'United Shades' with me.

But here we were, not even finished with our first shoot, and Tony was already thinking about the future. And again, he said it as if I had been turning him down for years, like we wouldn’t have moved mountains to make it happen.

We quickly started tossing around potential locations and eventually decided on Alabama, simply because Tony had never filmed there before (or maybe he’d never even been there — I can’t quite recall). The thought of Tony, my dad (an Alabama native), and I going shrimping together instantly filled me with a joy I can hardly describe.

But we never got that chance, as Tony passed away too soon.

So, while I’ll never know what it would have been like to have Tony on 'United Shades of America,' his influence will still be all over it. I’ll keep striving to follow his example — to be a gracious guest, to learn from others, and to put in the effort to turn TV into art, just as he talked to me about during our drives around Kenya.

It’s truly an honor to be connected to him in any way. Let me be clear: I’m not trying to compare myself to Anthony Bourdain. There was only one Tony, and that’s why his loss hurts so deeply.

The fact that Tony is irreplaceable is what explains why even those who never had the chance to meet him are mourning. He was more than just a beloved TV host; he was a one-of-a-kind force for good and for living life to the fullest.

Thank you, Tony, for letting me join you on this unforgettable journey.