Full. Stop. I know, these are fighting words. I don't care.
I’m probably going to be stepping on a few toes with this one, but I really don't care. It's our blog.
It was probably eleven or twelve years ago when I posted on my personal Blogspot (and Wordpress, it appears) about luxury travel and tourism as a whole. By that point I hadn’t seen half as much of the world as I have till now (I’d never been anywhere in Asia yet!), but looking back, my points still stand.
One quote from a Wordpress blog I’d set up (but then abandoned within a few months… clearly I have issues haha) from a book I’d read about tourism and travel is this:
…Travel offers significant opportunities to engage with other cultures, but it is far, far from guaranteed that travel in and of itself will amount to much more than self-preoccupation in a more exotic location. Increased superficial exposure to members of other cultural groups may result in little more than solidifying existing stereotypes. This is not because tourism is in itself wrong — as a pastime, it can be rewarding and enriching. The question here, however, has to do with how intercultural learning can be a response to the call to love our neighbors. Tourism is often essentially about me and the quality of my experience (as evidenced by the average tourist’s readiness to grumble when local customs, services or facilities to not match their expectations); it is rarely about taking the time to learn from, attend to, and love the people whose space is being visited. Whether the destination is a distant country or a city mission a few blocks away, travel in itself is no guarantee of significant intercultural learning or neighborly love.
From “Learning From the Stranger: Christian Faith and Cultural Diversity” by David I. Smith
I grant that the title seems very religious and promotes the idea of missions and “evangelizing”, but from what I recall, it was actually the opposite. I suppose there was still a missions focus, but on “ethical” missions where Christians should not be focused on “converting people” but rather on becoming a part of the culture and allowing the culture to shape them and their faith instead of the other way around.
I can extrapolate this into the whole concept of cultural hegemony in general. I mean, take out religion and replace it with “colonialism”, and it’s clear that the same truth applies.
The whole purpose of this post is to talk about luxury travel, and I’m sure any of you reading this are probably wondering what the connection is. Well, here.
See, I’m diving into the world of travel planning and travel advising. which is a world designed around tourism. All of our resources revolve around luxury hotels and accommodations, travel packages, and resorts. In a way I understand this because when your income relies solely on commissions, the more money people spend, the more commission you, as the advisor, receive. So I get it. But at the same time… I look at all these properties, and the trips and locations being promoted, and it awakes this pain in my heart that I wish I could express to other people in the community.
I mean… the whole reason I wanted to get into this “business” is to show people how to travel sustainably, especially from a cultural perspective, and affordably. You don’t have to drop insane amounts of money to travel, you don’t have to make it about bucket lists and resorts and spa treatments. You can make it about experiences and living life and exploring the world on a budget (and you don’t even have to stay in hostels and do the whole “backpacking” spiel!). Eating food, enjoying another culture, and talking to people even if your mother tongue differs.
So when all of our resources are geared around luxury stays and perks that are only provided by the 5-star properties in the database and marketing to clients about dropping thousands of dollars on a vacation… I take it almost as a personal offense.
After all… my family never had much money. We were privileged, sure, but it wasn’t like I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I’ve never stayed in a 5-star hotel, and while I did the all-inclusive thing once in Mexico (and had fun!), the fanciest hotel I’d ever stayed in as a kid was a 3-star Renaissance hotel on a family trip to Springfield, Illinois my dad said he got a fantastic deal on. I thought I was in the Plaza Hotel from “Home Alone 2” the entire time. Our idea of a family vacation, which wasn’t to stay with grandparents, was spending a night at a Comfort Inn with a massive pool, where my parents would bring a Disney Sing-Along Songs tape and I would pretend the pool was a Caribbean or Hawaiian beach. We could never afford to go to Disney World (now I just won’t go on principle, but that’s another topic for another day).
I absolutely won’t fault anyone for wanting to go on this type of trip. I don’t think I can, in good faith, since I do love a good luxury experience (or at least the idea of it) as much as the next person. I probably won’t even say no to booking that kind of stay for someone (a girl’s gotta eat). But I really have something against focusing on that kind of travel since it is anathema to my perspective on seeing the world.
My goal is for people to experience the world as it is and not as how people want it to be. I want you to get lost in Kuala Lumpur like we did trying to get from the main train station to the city center and then to our hotel a few blocks from the Petronas Towers. I want you to experience getting price-gouged at a waterfront restaurant in the Dominican Republic because you relied too heavily on people’s goodwill and your ability to speak Spanish like a native even if this still meant you were pegged as a foreigner (okay… maybe not that experience… that was rough). I want you to sit in a hotel room on a tiny island in the Indian Ocean trying to finish the local-spicy food you picked up at the Night Market for less than $1.
The truth is, this is a beautiful, diverse world, and sharing in someone’s culture and participating in it is a far greater way of being a global citizen than spending $5000 a week just to sit in an all-inclusive resort in Bali where you’ll never be trying to figure out what the Indonesian or Balinese word is for whatever dish you’re eating because no one around you, except maybe the hotel staff, can explain it to you. We owe the world that much… those glances you get from people when you sit down at the restaurant across the street and order “what they’re having” and have it be the national dish par excellence and you’re the only two white people in the building. Or when you’re offered to put on a sari to participate in a party with Bangladeshis and they excitedly show you how to wrap it and tuck it, and which jewelry goes with the colors on the said sari.
I'm probably still going to promote luxury hotels and destinations on my Instagram and Facebook because I know some people do want that, and hey, it's money and clients I desperately need. But just know that you don't have to stay at those places. Maybe they'll just give you the dose of travel inspo you desperately desire and help you understand better what you may want (or not want) in a location, and I'm still more than happy to help you get that. Just know that you don't need it.
I’m no one special, I swear I’m not. I’m a socially awkward introvert who didn’t choose to move abroad (and whose parents did so for somewhat less than altruistic reasons but at least did a slightly better job at ensuring we were learning more from the Spaniards in our circles than teaching them how to be Americans) but whose experiences have determined that I’d see the world in a way that prioritizes learning from others rather than teaching them anything about me. I mean… I’m not special. What do I have to bring to the table? If we as a society (especially those of us from the US and/or are otherwise descended from European colonizers) realize that we should be learning instead of giving something that was never asked of us, the world will be a much better place.
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