FFT

Excerpts from an article I was reading... this kind of helps to delineate a few of the reasons why I seem rather non-plussed about my globe-trotting....

Colonialism isn't dead.
Colonialism is alive and well every time you travel from the First World to the Third and come home bearing photographs of sharks and storms and slums, or scorpions fried for snacks, sunflowers bigger than your head, stalled buses whose aisles are slick with spit, and then you tell your friends and co-workers, "Oh man, it was so great, you gotta go."
We call it ecotourism and adventure travel. That sounds sensitive. We think "ugly Americans" are the fat ones on cruises and on package tours - anyone but us. We think we're different because we don't have a stars-and-stripes patch on our backpacks.
We think our motives are purer, that in the correct frame of mind, a trip to exotica means independence and not exploitation, as we come and see and - well, not quite conquer but globalize with every dollar spent. It's easy to say: "My aim is true, my morals are on track," but Christopher Columbus and a million missionaries said so, too. Easy to think it's not corrupting or condescending or anachronistic but cool to collect snapshots of the other, trading smiles with strangers to brag about at dinner parties later: souvenirs....
... Okay, so we - having shelled out to the airlines and big oil and then fouled the air - arrive abroad. Here we are now, entertain us. We're spurred by the same selfish yearnings as every pioneer and pirate and imperial passenger from eras past... Lawrence Osborne laments that there's "nowhere left to go," because "tourism has made the planet into a uniform spectacle," with everyone "wandering through an imitation of an imitation... The entire world is a tourist installation."...
... every destination resembles a theme park at which "you are asked to play a part in the racial memory of others": Consumer. Invader. Crusader. Seducer. Self-hating Westerner. Buffoon...
... But I now wonder whether it is right to guide anyone anywhere that he or she could not find on his or her own. Travel writing is advertising; it's turning foreigners and their landscapes into commodities...
... tourism, as James Hamilton-Patterson writes.. "is an industry determined to embrace you... It wants you to spend as much as you can on fatuous souvenirs; it wants you to do Machu Picchu or the Taj Mahal; it wants you to have the rainforest experience or the Mysterious East experience or the Rose Red City Half as Old as Time experience, and it doesn't terribly mind if you also have the fleeced-by-muggers-on-Copacabana-Beach experience."
First Worlders penetrating the Third World aren't the wild rebels they imagine themselves to be, he snorts. They're deluded children, lulled by the convenience of their own electronic toys and their longing to make the folks back home envy them for where they've been...
... In an ever-flatter world where simply seeing is no longer enough, where adventure travel gets spun into Survivor and The Amazing Race, neo-swashbucklers feels compelled to traverse entire nations and waterways on foot or in unorthodox boats, suffering and sometimes only barely surviving... But even this - even what appears to be anti-travel writing, with its horror stories about power outages and Taliban gunmen and canned meat and house-sized icebergs and whole populations afflicted with what Tayler calls "broken souls" - is travel writing nonetheless. Because in its perverse way, it still makes you want to go.
Go on, sneers Hamilton-Patterson, who has lived all over the world: Ski down Kilimanjaro before the last snowdrift melts on a planet whose "accelerating demise is helped along by the mounting effluent of our journeys."
... Am I saving some tribe from extinction by not looking for it, much less telling you about it? Or am I starving some shopkeeper by not buying his sandals? Both. Neither...

- Anneli Rufus