COMMENTARY, July 23 — I love travelling. Naturally I’m not alone in that, as evidenced by the throngs of tourists wherever I go, be it the pedestrian paradise of the Shibuya Crossing or the remote mountains of Chilean Patagonia. Most folks love travelling too.
What has bugged me of late is the question of whether we are good tourists. Sure, we contribute to the economy of our chosen destinations, but do we end up taking more than we give?
Are we a nuisance that clog up a foreign city’s already strained public transportation, and are we greeted by genuine smiles or by pained grimaces?
Many a time I’ve seen a tour bus disgorge its cargo of noisy passengers, all clogging the pavement and blocking the path of locals rushing to work or to go home.
And I wonder, am I that ugly tourist myself — perhaps not in this exact manner but in some other fashion?
Sometimes being a better tourist requires a touch of the local tongue.
Learning new languages can be challenging but one doesn’t have to be fluent to make a difference in your experience — and that of the locals you meet.
For example, a gentle “Sumimasen” when you’re in Hokkaido or a sweetly phrased “Kho thot krub” in Bangkok while you’re trying to ease your way past someone will earn you major brownie points. The effort we put in matters and others can see that.
Sometimes being a better tourist is best exemplified by that old adage: “Take nothing but photographs. Leave nothing behind but your footprints.”
I remember hiking in Preikestolen, Norway. While scaling the mountains to view the famously teetering Pulpit Rock, I observed many stone “stupas” made from random rocks and pebbles taken from the area.
These are mainly done by tourists who find it amusing, perhaps, or great for an Instagram selfie. But moving all these stones around despoil the natural surroundings and cause soil erosion. Not so amusing.
Sometimes being a better tourist means following the instructions.
When I visited the Etosha National Park in Namibia, our guide wouldn’t even allow us through the entrance till we could repeat back his instructions.
The most important one was to never, never leave the vehicle while inside the park. He reminded us that the animals inside are wild; that this was not a zoo.
And to drive his point home, he then told us about an incident some years back. A group of tourists hungry for better photographs got out of their jeep when they couldn’t get close enough for a picture. They got mauled by lions. Our guide drummed this into us: “Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean that they’re not there. Watching you.”
We followed his instructions to the letter.
Sometimes being a better tourist means behaving like the locals.
There was one time my Thai friend invited me to his family home in Saraburi. Away from the capital, the pace of life was more relaxed and so I, too, slowed down.
My friend’s mother had cooked lunch for us: I followed my friend’s lead and removed my shoes before entering the house, wore the indoor slippers provided, greeted the entire family cheerfully, answered every curious question politely, tasted everything before me and gave thanks for a most wonderful home-cooked meal.
Contrast this to a story my friend from Kansas loves telling me every time we meet. She was at a restaurant in Beijing and couldn’t get any sort of service.
Finally she observed what the others did and followed suit: she slammed her hand hard on the table and hollered at the top her lungs. A waiter instantly appeared and took her order.
I guess the lesson in both situations was the classic “In Rome, do as the Romans do”, no?
And sometimes — maybe most of the time — being a better tourist means not being a tourist at all.
I don’t mean to encourage everyone never to leave their own shores; visiting a foreign land opens up our eyes to so many possibilities.
Sometimes travelling is the best education, and a trip away from what we are familiar with often makes us appreciate what we have at home all the more.
No, what I mean is to be less of a tourist and more of a traveller. To truly journey to another place and experience it as the locals do, or as much as we can.
To make friends there, whether by chatting with someone at the bar or asking someone in the park for directions.
Visit the popular landmarks by all means but also venture into neighbourhoods free from the commercial clamour caused by the tourist trade.
See how residents live, eat, work, play. We might never understand fully but the attempt to understand is what matters, is what we’ll bring home with us that lasts longer than kitschy, overpriced souvenirs.
Are we greeted by genuine smiles when we visit a place away from home? Well, maybe that’s not the right question in the first place.
Are we smiling from our hearts to our hosts, strangers though they may be, for we are guests in the countries, are we not?
Let us be gracious guests, then, and avid adventurers and truly terrific travellers.
