I Can't Get No...Satisfaction

Well this topic is perfect for me, as anyone who knows me knows that I've been addicted to heroin and sex since the age of 5. Just kidding - well about the heroin at least. I can't actually say that I'm addicted to drugs (never really taken any), or alcohol (ok - I've had my share of drunk nights, but I rarely get drunk anymore), or anything else - except food, shopping, and a captive audience (with or without the duct tape and gag).

But seriously, real addictions for me? Actually probably pretty close to Jane's. I'm addicted to the internet, though it hasn't been able to be quite as severe in the past 6 month because I've had dialup at home. But no longer! My sister saw a sign saying that we could finally get DSL out in the sticks, and she told me when I got home last night that my mother had already called and we're getting the hook-up Thurs! I can finally post the pics I have on my camera! Ooh! AND with DSL we can set up a wireless network, and we can set up the other computer! So while I don't generally check my email before I pee in the morning (as it would take far too long, and I'd probably have an accident before then), that may soon change.

Also TV is a big one. I generally don't have the time to just sit and watch, but I do record my favorite shows. I love Sex and the City, Dexter, Weeds, Big Love (all the really good shows on the movie channels you have to pay for - well not Sex and the City), but I do have an embarassing love for some reality tv. The worst, I'll admit, is American Idol. I suppose I can truly say it's an addiction, because even though I'm completely embarassed and ashamed to admit I watch it, I do it anyway. The others are the competition shows on Bravo. It all started with Project Runway, then moved onto Top Design, and finally Shear Genius. I just love all the creativity, and competition, and bitchiness - and I would LOVE to be on one of those shows, but I don't have the right experience or degree.

Travel is probably my other addiction. Living in Lake City, I mean, who could blame me for wanting to get out and visit some cool places any chance I get? Oh - that reminds me - my grandmother has a timeshare in Sedona that we could trade for a week in London - anyone up for a trip? However it is a bit of an expensive addiction, and often I end up using the money I should be paying off medical bills with to go on these trips. However, I use the excuse that it has made me a more worldly and well-rounded person, so it's totally worth it.

In the interest of keeping this a relatively short post, I suppose I should end it there. I could ramble on about my love for Neil Gaiman, Jack White, shoes, and other things, but I'm sure I'll cover those at some other time on this blog.

Tourism, Voyeurism and Photography

For starters, if you haven’t read the article Voyeurismo by Roger Sandall, which Jen linked to in her post, go read it now.

I do a lot of traveling. While I have never ventured to the sort of remote and utterly undeveloped villages described in Sandall’s piece, I have certainly visited places that are less and/or differently developed than the US. I love exploring other countries and experiencing new cultures. I also love to take photographs. Photography has been a hobby of mine for years. However, if you take a look at my photographs (sorry, shameless plug, I know) you will notice that there are very few people in my photos other than my friend’s and family. Those few strangers who do appear in my photos usually only appear at a distance.

Last year, when I was living in Russia, one of my readers wrote to ask me if the population of Vladimir (the city in which I was living) was really small, or if the locals simply kept off the streets as much as possible. Well, for one thing, the population of Vladimir is around 400,000. For another, those of you who are familiar with the Russian culture of gulyat’ (walking around and hanging out with your friends outside) will probably feel as shocked by this question as I did. But, then I realized that if one were evaluating Vladimir by my photographs alone, one might easily conclude that it was inhabited by a small number of anti-social people! The same conclusion might be reached by someone viewing my photographs from my current location of Daegu, South Korea (pop. 4 million).

Vladimir, Russia

See, I’m one of those people who is simply not comfortable taking photographs of strangers. There are several reasons for this. One reason is that I’m pretty shy when it comes to talking to strangers. I feel that if I’m going to take a picture of a person I don’t know, I should ask first. (Seriously, how would you feel if some obviously foreign stranger started photographing you without asking?) Being that I’m not likely to talk to strangers in general, it’s highly unlikely that I’m going to ask their permission for a photograph.

Putting my anti-social tendencies aside, I have other reasons for being wary when it comes to photographing strangers when overseas.

Here in Korea, there are many outdoor markets, the likes of which I’ve never seen back home. I love them: the bustling crowds weaving in and out of a hodgepodge of unregulated stalls and stands, from which vendors sell all sorts of foods and goods which cannot be found in the States. The sights and sounds and smells always make a trip to an outdoor market a full sensory experience, and I love going. Every time I wander through a market, I would love to whip out my camera and take hundreds of photos, but instead the most I’ve managed are a few hasty shots here and there, taken when no one was watching.

For one thing, Korea has quite the social hierarchy, and the people who work in these markets are pretty near the bottom. Meanwhile I, as a white, English-speaking foreigner, am pretty high up on the totem pole. I worry that if I were to go into a market and start photographing, they would feel as though I were looking down on them. Oh, look at these quaint lower-class Koreans, selling fish! While *I* know that I wouldn’t be looking down on them, would they? In a culture where showing respect for others is paramount, I worry that if I were to start photographing people willy-nilly, I would end up offending willy-nilly.

One of my very few Korean market shots.

Of course, that is my own personal perception, and it is undoubtedly influenced a good bit by my anti-social nature. There are many photographers in the world (both amateur and professional) who excel at photographing human subjects across the globe. I admit that I enjoy many such photos, especially ones which come from cultures about which I have little to no knowledge. (My friend Chris took some excellent photos of people when he was in China which can be viewed here, here and here.) I envy photographers who can pull this off, just a little, although I know I’ll never be one of them.

Here’s the story of the one time I did make an effort to photograph people: Several years ago I lived in San Diego, CA. As many San Diegans do, I went across the border into Tijuana, Mexico a handful of times. In February 2004, I went by myself down to TJ for the purpose of taking photos. I wanted to try and capture the TJ seen by most American tourists. If you’ve never been there, let me just say that it is a depressing place, full of pollution and poverty. There are many beggars, and many of them are children. Some of these kids are selling things, such as necklaces or gum, others juggle items in hopes of money, while others simply ask for money.

I felt that if my goal was to try and capture the essence of TJ, I needed to photograph these kids as they were part of that. So I took pictures of some of them, although I compensated for what I felt was an intrusion by purchasing some of their wares or simply giving them some money, depending. And I’ve felt guilty about this ever since. Essentially, I was teaching these kids that it was OK to pose for photos taken by American tourists in exchange for a little bit of coinage. Was I leading them down the road towards participation in child pornography or prostitution? I still do feel quite guilty about taking these photos.

Begging girl, Tijuana, Mexico

The Americans Must Be Crazy

[I got all thrown off because Jen's post was a day late- so I think I'm a day late too. Please feel free, whoever is supposed to post today, to post today. I won't mind.]

I have no personal experience with this type of thing (I've never left America) and have never thought about this before Jen's post.

I would like to think the type of negative tourism doesn't happen often- as in, going to another country to treat the locals like shit and have a negative impact on them. I'm sure it does happen. But I am not against people going to other countries, even those less "developed" than ours, and touring. I think it's a good thing to see other cultures, and, since a theory is that civilization began in Africa (a country that gets a good chunk of this kind of tourism), I think it's a positive thing to see that region and how people there live. I think that one cannot assume to know what someone's motivations are in traveling to and touring these places- one would obviously like to think people go there to learn, to explore, to understand, to admire; I would like to think that most people do go with that motivation and attitude, but obviously there will be people who go with less positive motivations.

I have a co-worker who travels to Africa every year. From the stories I've heard, the locals love having the foreigners there, especially if you bring them things (and they seem to expect you to give them or trade them something). Also, your idea of the locals making foreigners pay for things is not too far off- my friend says that they will let you take their picture, but you have to give them money. Good for them. But the stories that I hear are wonderful. The only remotely first-hand experience I have are the shows on the Travel channel (especially the ones with Michael Palin). The things that I feel when seeing these people in their tribes and in their element are not superiority or pity etc. I can almost feel some envy- imagine living in a world without the worried and bullshit that we have to deal with: traffic, money problems, social bullshit, materialism, American Idol (and for that matter, all the shit on TV), etc. They live simply, they are happy- and if an effect is that foreigners come back to their normal lives and do feel lucky, and do savor something simple like a shower or a restaurant meal, that's not a bad thing. As far as looking down on people and feeling superior, we have plenty of that even in our own country, with Northerners/Southerners, rich/poor, young/old, educated/not educated, etc. It seems to me, also, that any tribe or village or town etc. that does not want foreigners to come through don't let them do so; they are in their element, after all.

I remember having a pen pal in Ghana when I was little. We would send things like coins and pictures and other stuff to each other. It was very cool, and those things are saved somewhere up at my parents' house. Even as a little kid, I thought it was fascinating and enlightening to learn about how they lived and get the perspective that, as Morrissey says, America is not the world. Sure, there will always be jerks who go to gawk, like kids do at those National Geographic magazine with naked tribespeople in them. But we can hope that the locals will do what they can to take advantage of those people.

Naked Tourists

Geeze, I thought this blog was supposed to just be for fun. I didn't realize I had such a heavy responsibility here.

I was out of town all weekend and was very busy all day yesterday (left my house at 8am, returned at 10pm, still had to do laundry and eat). I hate to use work time to do this, especially when I have more than enough to keep me busy here, so this will be short. Maybe later tonight I'll add more substantial thoughts.

One of my favorite Web sites is Arts and Letters Daily. It's a collection of articles, opinion pieces, and book reviews from around the world (but all at least translated into English) and from a wide-range of viewpoints. Best of all, there's no direct news, although many posts relate to the implication or analysis of specific current events, so it removes one from the crushing overabundance of headlines and sound-bytes usually encountered on the Internet.

I recently read an article on A&L called Voyeurismo posted on The Culture Cult and written by Roger Sandall. It’s part book review, but like all decent reviews, it raises questions and makes observations about the society for and about which the book was written.

Sandall reviews Lawrence Osborne’s The Naked Tourist, which describes a particular “ethno-tourism” adventure. What? I didn’t know either, but apparently for a steep fee, “civilized” people from developed countries, bored with their fat and easy existence, can take guided tours into “uncharted” territory and come face-to-face with natives who may or may not have ever seen a white man. A quick Amazon search shows that this book is not necessarily unique.

Now, this adventure is no small task—-it’s not like the tour takes a cruise ship up the Amazon. There’s a lot of hiking and climbing and falling and general discomfort. But clearly, traveling by choice to gawk uninvited at a different culture, especially with the pre-supposition that your own comfortable culture is superior, necessarily raises some morality questions. To be fair, I think this sounds like an exciting opportunity—-to hike into an area where very few people have been, to see things very few people have seen, to have completely unique experiences… then to come back to my apartment, to take a hot shower, to rest in my soft bed, and to bore all my friends with a slideshow and long description of my adventures. But what does this mean to my own sense of cultural superiority? I like to think of myself as accepting and curious about other lifestyles, and I think this is precisely the market (plus a few thousand dollars and a more mature sense of ennui) intended for this type of trip.

But think about it from the other side: you live with your parents in a one-room hut that your father and uncles built, growing up with the same people you’ve known all your life. Occasionally there’s some excitement when people from other tribes visit, but for the most part life is quiet, filled with fishing and making baskets and sometimes eating the game your father brings home. And then one day, people like you’ve never seen before arrive, their bodies covered in all sorts of clothing, speaking in a tongue completely unlike the other tribes. They want to give you items—-necklaces, mirrors, some of that ridiculous clothing—-and walk around your village poking their heads into your house, and pointing at basic things. Maybe, at first, you’re as curious about them as they seem to be about you. But when later the next group arrives, and then the next, it feels more like an intrusion, more like you’re on display, although not by choice.

Of course, a lot can be said about this situation based on the behavior of the tourists. Sandall mentions English tourists to Italy in the 18th and 19th centuries, and I thought of EM Forster’s A Room with a View and Susan Sontag’s The Volcano Lover, both involving English people immersing themselves in the “different-ness” of Italian life, which of course implies that they were not immersed at all (as long as they thought of it as different-ness). But the Italians catered to this voyeuristic desire by building hotels and entertainment aligned with English tastes. This newer ethno-tourism reminds me more of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness with all the overtones of imperialism and the dangers of infiltrating a society that doesn’t really want to be infiltrated. Will these tribal natives begin catering to their new visitors on the riverside, offering fish and chips with the occasional grub worm?

Hm. I started this blog with the intention of following-up closely on last week’s road trip theme but have strayed off the mark I think. And I’m out of time to tie it back up, so I’ll leave it open for you. Is this sort of vacation morally repellent? Does it say something about our own fat and happy culture that we’re willing to pay to have these experiences? Or is it not because of comfortable ennui, but some other compulsion or curiosity? How much do we really learn about another culture in this manner? Should people be allowed to take guided tours without local consent, or just camera crews, or no one at all? And does this have anything to do with a developed society’s imperialist compulsions?