UNPACKED: Tourism, Privilege and Mindful Traveling (Part 2)

Dear readers,

First of all, I’d like to apologize for the extreme delay in posts here on our blog. Both Rustam and myself have gotten incredibly caught up with our day-to-day life and haven’t been as on top of things as we’d like to.

Anyways, as I mentioned in the last post, this section will discuss themes of wealth and space as relating to travel. You can read the first section here!

Without further ado, Wealth and Space:

3. Wealth Inequality: Where and How Do We Spend Our Money?

In Bali, there was a big market in the heart of the town where I was staying. There were endless rows of stalls, all filled with traditional art, clothing, and food, as well as tourist mementos and souvenirs. On the very first day of my stay in Bali, I walked down to the market and was told that if I so chose, I could bargain on the price of most anything I’d want to buy.

In many parts of the world, bargaining is very much a part of the market culture – I’d encountered similar experiences when I visited South Africa. However, it was a new experience for many of my fellow travelers. Most of us were from countries like Canada, the United States or England – where it would be pretty ludicrous to enter into a shop and try to bargain on the price of an object. Some of us had some experience bargaining, others were unaccustomed to the idea.

Being from the United States myself, the currency exchange was greatly in my favor. At the time that I was in Bali, the exchange was about 13,000 Indonesian rupiah to one dollar.. This meant that most things I was buying in Bali were incredibly cheap for me, and with the bargaining system, I could further haggle items down to only a few dollars. I often tried to bargain with a fair margin in mind, whereas other tourists I knew often bargained in order to spend as little money as possible. The translation into American currency still meant that we were spending very little money on most items in the market. Given the weight of our currency, we should be aware it is a privilege to try and benefit as much as possible from local economies. As Bani Amor says in their article, “Think interactions over transactions. And don’t haggle artisans down to the last cent over a little souvenir or brag about how cheap certain places are. They aren’t cheap. You’re just rich on a global scale.”

It doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t bargain. Bargaining is certainly part of the custom – it’s expected. We bargained our taxi and moped fares, we bargained in the market. It’s about doing it in a manner that is not disrespectful, an interaction rather than a transaction, as Amor puts it. You should pay what you believe the item is worth. Don’t bargain simply to spend as little money as possible.  In Bali, I had the privilege to not really think about the true value of money, because everything cost so little to me. It doesn’t cost that little to the host community, as it inevitably ties back into their economy.

When it comes to money, it is also important to be aware of where we chose to spend our money. Are we contributing to the local economy, or disrupting it – perhaps by supporting businesses that are unsustainable or unethical? The volunteer organization through which I traveled to Bali suggested that instead of buying school supplies ahead of time to bring to our kindergarten, we instead buy supplies in Bali so as to support the local economy. A widely-held belief is that tourism is good for local economies – however, that is actually not the case. Bani Amor explains that “in reality, tourism-based economies tend to be the most unsustainable ones, as they push out local industries, make vulnerable laborers dependent on foreigners in power, and turn local business owners into nannies for bratty white kids on vacay”. This quote is especially applicable to Bali, a place whose economy relies heavily on tourism. It is important to consider that our money will have an effect – whether it is good or bad – on the economy. Are we contributing to local businesses – real, homegrown, family-run businesses? Are we contributing to businesses for a tourist experience, and perhaps turning a blind eye to larger implications of exploitation and unethical causes? It’s important to look into how your money is being used, since often times we are able to spend large amounts and thus influence the economy, even in the smallest of ways.

4. Space: Being Aware of Your Physical Presence

A big observation I made while abroad is that tourists take up a lot of space. I first started to notice it on the crowded, narrow sidewalks of the village where I stayed in Bali. These sidewalks fit two people at best across, which often meant that if I was part of a larger group, we would walk single-file so that approaching parties could pass us. However, after a few experiences walking down these roads, I noticed an interesting phenomenon. Other tourists seemed to have no concept of the physical space they were occupying. Often, they would walk two-by-two on the walkway, which meant that they made a sort of barrier across. It doesn’t seem significant, but what was somewhat irritating was that they did not move aside for oncoming people. This meant that on several occasions during my walks I was forced to step off the sidewalk onto the street. The tourists would also stand in the sidewalks or shop doors, creating blockades, and not moving, seemingly unaware of the disruption they were causing.

This observation immediately drew my mind to an article I’d read earlier in the year, which was a study that showed a similar unawareness in men. The study spoke about how when men exist in public settings, they don’t expect to have to move out of the way for anyone, and they often take up a lot of space in many ways, such as dominating conversations and taking up a lot of physical space. When walking around, the researchers found that often men were surprised, confused, even angry, when they were forced to move out of the way for others. These men, like the tourists I encountered, had a natural expectation of entitlement to space. They didn’t see it as their job or role to move aside for others.

In my experience so far, it is similarly so with tourists, which brings us back to my favorite topic: privilege. Tourists, and I believe it is particularly so in non-Western countries, have a sense of entitlement to the space around them. In a public setting, it is the tourists who often dominate the physical space, but also in a bigger sense, a space of power. We need to understand, as travelers, that we are not entitled to every space.

Space is really a complicated idea in terms of privilege, because we can look at it in two ways: the first being the more straightforward concept of physical space; the other being the idea of space as an intercultural relation. We must understand how to exist in both types of space in a conscientious and respectful manner. When we enter a religious building, for example, we must take into consideration our physical presence in that space and the implications that holds. Our actions in that space are also important – are we beholding a sacred site as merely a beautiful tourist attraction? We must be respectful of space, and be conscious of the use, presence and function of that space. It is also important to allow space for intercultural exchange – when we travel with the expectation that space is accessible to us, we are implementing that long history of colonialism that has affected most, if not all, parts of the world. We must allow the local community to reclaim these spaces that have been fraught by colonialism and tourism, and let them show us what those spaces mean instead of arriving at that decision ourselves.

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In the final installment, we will discuss Food and Healthcare!

See you then!

Shaghdad

UNPACKED: Tourism, Privilege and Mindful Traveling (Part 1)

It was a sweltering evening in Ubud, Bali – even though the sun had been down for several hours, the heat lingered in the air. My legs stuck to the wooden bench I was sitting on at the bar; my drink dripped condensation into a wobbly circle on the countertop.

The bar was only a short ways down the road from the volunteer accommodations that I was staying in. I was spending four weeks in Bali, teaching kindergarten as part of a volunteer program. My fellow volunteers and I had just completed our first full week, and so we’d decided to come out to the bar to enjoy a few drinks. I was still getting to know my new friends – after all, we’d only been together for a week – and as I quickly realized, new places don’t always bring out the best in people. As we sat around, drinks in hand, laughing and talking, one of the girls reached over and picked up a conical rice hat that had been hanging on the wall, placed it on her head and made a stereotypical prayer gesture in front of herself. She began to speak in an affected accent, laughing and mocking, and I lowered my gaze to the table while the others laughed. I didn’t find it particularly funny; in fact, I thought it quite offensive and insensitive, but when I volunteered this opinion, the others excused it as drunken behavior and assured me that it was fine, it was just a joke. Nevertheless, it sat with me for the rest of the trip.

Bali was my second stop on a six-week journey; I had previously spent two weeks in Australia. I spent these weeks exploring, volunteering, meeting people from all around the world – and grappling with the idea of privilege in the context of traveling. When I returned home, I encountered an article on  Bitch Media by Bani Amor entitled, “Check Yourself Before You Wreck Someplace Else: A Guide to Responsible Summer Travel” (1). The article provides several tips on how to travel in a more conscious and ethical way, taking into account the history of the travel destination and the fact that, as Amor says, “[travel] grants some of us the privilege of leisure, but it does so at the expense of other, more vulnerable communities, cultures and environments”. In short, travel is a privilege, and the article helps to provide ways to address that privilege and travel in a more conscientious manner.

After reading the article, I realized that it summed up a lot of emotions I’d felt during my time abroad. Although my experience was wonderful and eye-opening, there were moments of intense frustration. I was frustrated for two reasons: the first being that I did not know the best way in which to address my own privilege; the second was that often times, the attitudes of many of the travelers and tourists I encountered displayed a general ignorance and insensitivity to the local culture and community.

Inspired by Bani Amor’s article, I decided to put forth my own observations about privilege. I want to deeply discuss a number of topics relating to tourism, traveling, and privilege, which will be explored in a three-part series. Hopefully, this will provide me the opportunity to open up a discourse about these topics, allowing for open dialogue, thought, and discussion.

1. Language: Why do we expect people to know English?

While abroad, language can often provide us with challenges. As a native English-speaker, I encountered no problems in Australia. However, traveling in Bali for four weeks and not knowing even a word of Bahasa proved to be much more difficult. I welcomed the experience as a chance to navigate language barriers. During my time, I realized that this was not a shared attitude; in fact, I encountered a different attitude that I found very ignorant. Many of my fellow travelers were often impatient or critical of the local people, whose English was perhaps not the most fluent.

So why do we expect people to know English? Personally, I believe it stems from globalization, a long tradition of Western colonialism, and of course, privilege. It is a privilege to expect – to assume – that your host community will be able to accommodate to your mode of communication. This privilege manifests in the way that many travelers make no effort to communicate in their host country’s language – neglecting to learn even basic greetings or phrases – and yet are still impatient and frustrated when they encounter troubles with communication. The expectation that English should be spoken universally comes from a place of entitlement. When we travel, we need to understand that the host community owes us nothing by means of communication. It is not their responsibility to carry the burden of understanding your language and your needs, but rather a two-way street. How often do we expect English-speakers to know anything but English?

When traveling, it is important to be aware of your privilege as an English-speaker. It can be difficult to confront this privilege. I myself remember traveling to Lithuania with my dad to meet some distant relatives, and I felt  annoyed that no one would speak to me in English. I realized later what an odd expectation it was to think that everyone should make attempts to communicate with me, perhaps at the expense of  their own comfort, and that maybe I should have been the one wholeheartedly embracing the challenges of a language barrier.

It is important to understand the implications of accepting English as a universal mode of communication. We need to acknowledge our role in that tradition. Be patient. As Amor says, “Learn as much of the local language as you’re able, and don’t openly mock signs misspelled in English. You’re being gross.”

2. Culture: Understanding History and Context

Let’s talk about context. When visiting a foreign country, it is absolutely crucial to understand the relationship between your home country and the country you are visiting, and understand that this relationship will often times award you privilege. Read up on the history. Really do your research. As Amor writes, “Do some research on the historical relationship between your place of origin and your place of visitation. As an American of color, I don’t take the power of my blue passport and the heavy imperialistic history it weighs over others, a history which enables me to be a tourist today, very lightly.” Do your own research, and also let the local community educate you. They certainly have no obligation to educate you, but if they want to share their cultural practices and customs with you, respond with interest.

During my travels, I learned a lot about history, culture and community. In Australia, I climbed the Sydney Harbor Bridge and heard fascinating facts and stories about the construction of the bridge, the original convicts that settled in Australia – although, interestingly, the tour did not go in depth about the indigenous Australians living in the area before the arrival of the convicts. Luckily enough, the art museum down the road from my hotel had an exhibition entirely focused on Aboriginal art, where I was made aware of the plight of the Aboriginal community and the challenges they face to this very day (and really, it’s amazing how much of the language is identical to that of those who are demanding justice in my own home country – but we can talk about that later). I took time to digest this information, eagerly listening to whoever wanted to share with me as to be able to develop a sense of the different viewpoints and narratives at play.

In Bali, I was fortunate that the volunteer program through which I was traveling dedicated the entire first week to cultural education and understanding. We learned how to make traditional Balinese flower offerings, learning the significance of each type of flower and grass that goes into the sacrifice, as well as the reason for making these offerings multiple times a day. We had classes learning basic Bahasa, cooking lessons, and a visit to a holy water temple in which we were able to participate in a ceremony to be blessed.

For many of my fellow travelers, these activities were a waste of time, boring, even unnecessary. They didn’t feel as though it was productive to learn to count in Bahasa or learn about the religious significance behind the different types of offerings. However, the moment you disengage from the historical and cultural significance of your presence in another country is the moment that you again contribute to the colonialist aspects of travel. Amor says, “But when we deny [travel’s] political implications, we reestablish it as a tool of coloniality and become complicit in its oppressive chain”.

So let’s get back to context. Being aware does not mean you need to engage in all the things I did. It does mean you need to read up. You need to understand your position in these settings. Are you traveling to a part of the world previously colonized by your home country, or perhaps a place where your country has had conflict? Often, these things are incredibly complex. Keep those things in mind. Also, remember that no matter the relationship between your home country and host country, you will probably still be in a place of great privilege. Most importantly, don’t be that person who, after splashing holy water on her friend’s face during an important Balinese ritual, loudly exclaimed, “Wow, it looks like someone’s coming on your face.” Yeah, that happened. And it was gross for a lot of reasons.

Your disinterest is privilege. You will never be forced into this discourse; in fact, in many ways you must actively engage it.

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In Part 2 of Unpacked we will look at Wealth and Space! See you then ~ Shaghdad

 

Sisterhood

The epic poem Shahnameh tells the story of the great Iranian hero Rostam and his half-brother Shaghad. Shaghad, envious of his brother and his greatness, lures him into a trap full of poisoned spears, and Rustam, lying wounded, gathers his remaining strength and, out of revenge, shoots his half brother Shaghad through the plane tree where he is hiding, killing him and dying himself shortly after.

 

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We encountered this tale during a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, where we were able to view an illustration of the story. We couldn’t help but find it a bit funny, probably due to our ability to make inside jokes out of even the most humorless/inappropriate situations. The image of Rostam shooting Shaghad through the plane tree was something we continued to laugh about for the rest of our trip, in part due to our misunderstanding of the title of the piece: “Rostam Shoots His Half-Brother Shaghad through a Plane Tree.” We were in fits of giggles envisioning Rostam hurling Shaghad through the plane tree, killing him (and the tree) in the process. Only upon closer reading of the actual legend did we realize that Rostam had shot Shaghad with a bow and arrow.

 

So we decided to adapt the names Rustam and Shaghdad for ourselves.

 

We have gone through several names in our friendship. It may seem an odd thing to do, but we still stick to some of them; calling each other by our given names sounds awkward and formal, resulting in that we never use them, whether it be spoken or written. It is practically impossible to sign a message or greet each other on the phone with our given names, without sounding as if we’re different people from who we are for each other. This in a way shows the power of names; the possibility of knowing someone in such a individual and intimate way that the other becomes someone special only for you, becomes someone else in the context of your relationship. It comes from the naming and renaming of a relationship and the people in it.

 

However, only yesterday, when we decided to start a blog, did we notice another divergence apart from our first misunderstanding of the events of the story. We had had the names of our heroes wrong the whole time. They were actually named Rostam and Shaghad, not Rustam and Shaghdad. This we took as a omen to get on with our own ideas, borrowing these names as representation for our own individual thoughts, stories and words. Slightly altered, they represent the potential for change while still keeping their identity and story. We want to explore our identity and story, maybe alter or change one thing or another, always trying to keep our essence, what keeps us alive.

 

We are two youngsters, fledglings, testing our wings in the world, often apart but laughing a lot, trying to figure out where to fly to in this big and buttiful world. Our relationship is unique – in some ways it’s indefinable. We could as well have the same bond or connection as Rustam and Shaghad, although their story is definitely not ours. Lovers of written word and writings, many have passed between us, which is to continue on this platform. We will write about what moves us at the moment, about new steps in our journeys, interactions, art. We wonder what you will find.

 

• Rustam and Shaghdad