The Tourist Hustle

Lets talk about being a tourist. My experience, having now reached country #32 in my world journey, has given me an opportunity to fully see the tourist hustle in all of its poor and fortunate qualities. Today I’m hoping to share with you a little bit about what I’ve learned.

For some reason, just because I am a tourist, people tend to assume that I am Bill Gates rich. It’s apparent that I have enough money to get to my location, but I don’t see that as a humane reason for exploiting me for every cent I possibly have.

Setting aside all of the judgments I receive as a tourist every day, being a tourist in and of itself – especially on a budget – can be wild! Traveling is constant chaos, planning, thinking, adapting, etc. I have to know the map, and I remember it almost by heart sometimes because my brain now sees map memorizing as a survival skill. Thus my memory has improved. I have to know what’s in my bank account – roughly. I have to know what’s in my pocket. Do I have x y and z? Where are my things? Have I booked the flight, checked the bus schedule, figured out where the bus stop is, found out the address of where I’m staying, where will I sleep next, will I be getting back at night, is the vibe safe, does my door lock, will the hostel do last minute booking, is there really 24/7 hot showers, 24 hour cancellation policy, how do I get to these ten thousand places I’m recommended to go to, what are some cultural laws here, how do I say hello, goodbye, thank you, and enough – and on and on and on. Not all the same questions every day. Of course, I always become familiar with a new place after a day or two, and I always figure out when, how, and what exactly needs to be done. Sometimes when I “figure it out” its really me, just stumbling upon an adventure, reminder, or good fortune.

Asking the right questions, as a tourist, is very important. Sometimes, the person I’m asking doesn’t understand me. Sometimes they lie to me unbeknownst or on purpose. Sometimes my American phrases make no sense in a different culture. Sometimes my direct question is answered – but a lot of the time, all of the helpful information surrounding the answer is omitted. It would be overly dutiful to divulge every bit of information that could be helpful from a local or experienced stranger to me. Then I have to be more specific, asking a thousand questions and getting all of my answers. My thousands of questions are usually directed towards someone who is doing their job by answering them. What time do we get up? What is included? Why does it cost this much? Where do we go? What should we wear? What do the locals do? What is culturally appropriate? Why is the plan like this?

When it comes to bargaining (which is common in many African and Asian countries) I pull out all of the stops. Most of the items sold using bargaining are from China, mass-produced and poor quality. I have to know my product, so that the salesperson can’t trick me. I know how to tell if its real leather, real wool, cotton, silk, made in China or locally – I know all of the tricks. I didn’t always know all of the tricks. I’ve met honest salespeople, who taught me, or I remember something arbitrarily said in my vicinity and recall it as currently useful, or I do a little research. Sometimes strangers are the most helpful tools and sometimes they are deceptive.

I cannot recall how many times I have been lied to on this trip. Even with directions, I might ask 4 different locals the same question and receive 4 different answers. I never go with my first answer. I must have research or several unrelated opinions to support the answers that I receive.

People who are selling, or have any possibility to gain from tourist money, are usually people that I am hesitant to trust. On more than one occasion I have called out salespeople for lying to me. I say, this isn’t made here, and I explain why, and then I ask why their price is higher for a less genuine quality item. I have no shame. They are the ones trying to trick me, and I am the one with the money to spend. Sometimes, I say it loudly and they don’t like me deterring other people from their store so they tell me to go to another shop instead. I gladly leave to spend my money somewhere else. How a person responds to me can sometimes tell me if I should be giving them my money or not. Especially in poor countries, if I give me business and my money somewhere I want it to be with good genuine people. I don’t know them right away, but I know if I feel lied to or if I feel connected and happy with someone.

Basically, any time I am asked to pay over $20 for something– I have to ask questions. Where is my money going? If all of these shops and hotels are the same, then I am not going to the one where the person working there is creepy, or rude.

It’s the same at hotels and hostels. Whenever someone books something on my behalf, there is some kind of commission taken – so I need to compare costs with other companies or, book it on my own (if its even possible). It’s nice when people, places, or companies make decent sounding offers for tours or adventures – but I never take my first offer. Not unless I’ve already seen what else is out there. Some countries set up their tourist systems so that I have to book through a company. Then the prices get cut throat. I could spend more than $50 extra just because I didn’t ask around. That’s 2 – 5 nights in a hostel. I like places with no commission.

Trust no one, when it comes to money, especially as a tourist in a foreign country.

Even the ATMs, I always remember to check for cameras and cover up my card when I insert it, or block my pin number when I type it in. On more than one occasion I have seen illegally placed cameras just above the screen of the ATM, and commonly there are cameras in the room or stall where it is kept.

The tourist hustle is that of exploitation. Everyone wants a piece of the money-cake. Have money will travel, therefore people who travel have money. Maybe not everyone has a ton, but they have enough to get where they are. So the recommendations tourists receive from locals, restaurants, hostels, or hotels have to do with promotion, advertisement, tips, tax, and whose hand is in what pile of cash. Nice hotels typically recommend fancy restaurants, or just higher class restaurants where the toilets are clean, there are white tablecloths and the manager always takes care of you - too expensive for me. Tour guides send me anywhere that might make them money, unless they genuinely want me to experience the culture (that depends on the type of people I meet and at what point in our relationship they start giving me advice). Often, people who freely throw advice about where to go and what to do, are either overeager tourists who think that their good opinion will probably be universal, or locals who are trying to send me somewhere that will make them or their family money. Sometimes, at least while I’m traveling, when I throw in my two-cents without being asked, it is simply because I want someone to talk to. People who only give advice when it’s asked, sometimes after chatting for a little, those are the ones who usually have genuine quality opinions and experiences to share with me, and aren’t doing it in their own self-interest.

Finding a unique local experience can be difficult. In fact, sometimes I know where I am in a city simply because I followed the tourist-looking-whiter-people. It was often fairly obvious where the tourists were. Even without any visible differences between the locals and tourists, its easy to find the hotspot locations – the prices are higher, the amount of people is denser, and there is someone on the side of the road selling souvenirs (sometimes in a near-harassing manner). Sometimes, if I am lost, I can just follow the increasing prices to get to my tourist location – when I was in Helsinki, that is how I stumbled along the fish market. The cafés along the crowded main street I was walking along (lost and bored) continually charged 3, then 5, then 8 euros for a coffee. Smells like I’m approaching my tourist destination.

The recommendations I always received from hostels were often a thousand times better than any hotels. While youth backpacking, I have met people of all ages and backgrounds. Usually the recommendations are for - where to get a free something, a cheap but awesome meal, and good local beer. Then I’ve relied on all of my random interactions along the way to show me what to do next. I usually don’t know what I will do in a place until I get there. The locals know the best, and the cheapest ways to do things. Other tourists do too. Usually the tourists who are leaving have the most interesting feedback to consider. Consider, not follow. Listening is important, and I usually listen to what people recommend to do or not, but everyone has different preferences, so consideration is the most I can do. Sometimes if something sounds amazing, and I know nothing about it, I do it anyway – going in blind. Sometimes if something sounds terrible, I look it up first, and then I do it anyway after determining my own opinion. Only a few times has my last-minute spontaneous planning not worked out, mainly because something I wanted to do was a “touristy” thing, and I needed more than a days notice to book it, or sign up. I missed out on the original “Last Supper” by Michaelangelo, I didn’t do a tour of glaciers or fjords in Norway, and I never hiked up the Eiffel Tower. But, I have a lot more, memories of what I did do than what I didn’t. Instead of seeing the “Last Supper” I saw all of the art museums in Milan. Instead of a tour of Norway, I took a 6 hour train ride across the country seeing fjords and glaciers. Instead of hiking the Eiffel Tower, I partied underneath it, and walked the entire city of Paris. God always seems to have a better plan for me than I do. Often, missing the touristy adventure means going on an alternative adventure for me.

Tourism truly is a hustle. The broker I am, and cheaper I am living, the more genuine help and less hustle I deal with. Staying somewhere nice - or revealing in any way that I have some money in my pocket - usually means I have to deal with some exploitative bullshit.

Here's my little anecdote to illustrate how complicated something simple can be, just because of tourism.

When I was in Kathmandu Nepal, I was looking for a wool scarf to give as a gift. I had already bought one with the same make, style, and genuine quality wool in Pokhara, Nepal where it was 1,500 Rupees. In Kathmandu, I finally stumbled across a salesman who offered the exact scarf I was looking for. He told me 3,200 Rupees (of course this is the start of the bargain, so I know that is what I will not pay). I counter the offer with 1,000 Rupees. I know this is far too low, since the salesman I had bought from in Pokhara paid 1,400 and sold it to me for 1,500. When I offered 1,000 Rupees the shopkeeper laughed at me and said he can’t sell it to me for that price. I expected that response. When Nepali salesmen say they can’t sell it at that price, they mean it, and they look genuinely sad when they say it. I told him, look I have this exact thing at home, and I bought it in Pokhara for 1,500. I’ll give you that, and we can be done. He didn’t believe me, because bargaining is a lying game and he hasn't learned yet that I am a genuine person and on a budget. I said, really, I’m telling you the truth. What are you buying your scarves for?? 1,500 is a good price, a fair price. He tells me honestly, and I believe him, that there is no way he could buy that scarf for that much money and therefore sell it to me for less. Unlike some shop owners, he persisted in explaining it to me rather than taking the scarf out of my hands dismissively. I persist, how much did you pay for these (the scarves) then? Because you know, and now I’m sitting and looking him in the eye so he knows I’m just having a genuine casual conversation with him, I say if another salesman can sell this same thing to me for less then your price, then I think you’re paying your distributor too much. He bought his for 1,800. I knew I wanted the scarf and it was hard to come by, so I said to the guy, listen, I know you want to sell this, and you know I want to buy it, so lets come to an agreement where you give me a price that is fair and not ridiculous, and I give you a price where you can make a little profit. This type of patience and honesty is necessary in human connections, particularly with someone who is in the position to constantly rip-off tourists and exploit them. Those people may or may not have an interest in knowing the tourist, but if they can see a little humanity instead of a giant dollar sign on my forehead, then I feel like the interaction is far more enjoyable. I entered into a great conversation with the salesman about business sales, and distributors that charge less. After I told him it would be better if he had a fixed price, and sold based on the concept that he is making X amount of profit on every item, with no bargaining, then he would increase sales and not annoy tourists. It was a revelation to him that tourists don’t like to bargain. When he expressed that to me, I vented a little bit. No, I don’t like to bargain! Every time I bargain I feel someone trying to rip me off, cheat me, or lie to me, and all I want is a damn scarf. It’s not a good feeling to be always cheated or lied to. He laughed, but I think he also understood my sincerity. I imagine these people get just as sick of being scammed as the next person. The man thanked me for my advice and said something about our destiny's colliding so that his business would improve. I thanked him for the scarf that I bought for 2,000. ($20 is pretty good for a hand embroidered wool scarf I’d say.)

Anyway, that’s the tourist hustle as I have experienced it in Europe, Africa, Central America, and now Asia. It’s not avoidable. Coping with the feeling of always being lied or cheated (as a tourist) can be exhausting and can cause negativity or impatience when encountering new locals or businesses. Even when I know someone is overcharging (and I am well aware they are trying to exploit me and fellow-travelers) I always remember to have patience and kindness towards them. Sometimes its just the culture that makes things that way. Sometimes its just a poor country, and people are just doing whatever they can to survive. Usually, its easy to tell within the first few minutes of a conversation whether someone is cheating me or not, whether they are genuine or not. However, I sometimes find it difficult to understand whether people are genuine when I am encountering them within my first few days in a new place, with a new language – before I’ve fully grasped the tradition and way of life in the new place. But I’ve learned to cope with the feelings of being lied to or cheated. By having the kind of empathy that helps me to understand why one might want to exploit me, talk to me naggingly, or over-charge me, I can learn how to love them anyway and detach myself from any offense. I have made the tourist hustle bearable, and I am comfortable navigating the exploitative environment by:

1)   Knowing my facts and my research so that I am concrete in my opinion and understanding of how things work and cost wherever I am.

2)   Swallowing my pride and having patience to a degree that I am comfortable with.

3)   Being honest and empathetic.

4)   Loving people no matter what, and always making sure to part on good terms. Burning bridges and people creates a bad karma that I don’t want. 

5)   Trusting myself and standing my ground.

Dublin, Ireland

From the moment I sat on the Aer Lingus flight from Boston to Dublin, my natural draw to people was on fire, and attracted kind people to me. On the plane I sat next to a woman, who I would classify as your typical suburban British woman. Ever see a Ricky Gervais show or movie? Well, she was the leading lady; witty, empathetic, comedic (the British sort) and of true grit. We talked about British shows we both liked, and how British humor is better than American humor because of its wit, and truth. I could tell right away that she was a warm person. She gave me advice for my UK travels, laughed with me about poppy cock, and was downright offended by the general idea that Americans have a food called "London broil." With every "t" pronounced, and a rising inflection, she said with her true Brit accent; "Its beef and gravy? And you named it after our capital city? Thas pure rubbish." We laughed a bit, and before parting she asked me if I had anyone in the UK to call in an emergency. I told her I had the U.S. Embassy. So she gave me her mobile number, and told me that it was in case I got arrested. I wondered for a second if, in the mostly silent 6 hour plane ride, that she deduced from my character that I may be a person who gets arrested. I assured her I wasn't that sort, and told her if I pass through Liverpool or Bermingham I would buzz her, and in return the next time she is in Boston on business I will treat her to a London broil and laugh at her mortified response to it - the rubbish.

Upon landing, I waited at the airport for a few hours until the bus system turned on at 6am. Waiting an hour or so to spend 6Euro on a bus instead of 30 on a taxi is just the beginning for me. We have to be choosey now.

My adventures begin in a city thriving in history and oppression. Parts of Dublin are like being back in Sol Madrid. Shops everywhere in the tourist areas so that it is almost like an outdoor mall. The cobblestone streets along the Temple Bar section is where all of the piss, and Guinness line the sidewalks during the day, and where live folk and rock music can be found at night. I wasn't able to check into the hostel to sleep until 3pm. So I locked up my bags, and from 6:30am until 3pm, I walked the city. It only took 3 or 4 hours to really see the whole of it. The section where I am staying is more rubbish than the tourist sections - not dangerous, but clearly somewhat trashier than the better kept parts of town - I didn't take to Dublin right away because of it. There are cigarette butts everywhere and it smells like the dry sweat of an Irish army. 

I never hesitated to tell anyone that I was from Boston. My plan for a lot of this trip was to say I am Canadian - I know I will need to in Central Europe because I have been discriminated against before for being American. I learned quickly that saying you're from Boston in Ireland gets you respect, because some people might even assume that you are Irish. They know that Boston is heavily Irish in history and they love it. Maybe thats why Boston is so resilient - Irish are certainly resilient. I learned a long time ago that foreigners know Boston better than New Hampshire, so i just don't bother with that unless they want to know more or we become friends.

After walking about I came and sat in the lobby of my hostel waiting for a walking tour to start. While I waited I met a kind Iranian family. I was drawn to them speaking Farsi on the couch next to mine. One was a young woman studying Middle Eastern conflicts for her PhD in Belfast, and the others were her aunt and uncle visiting from Norway. After much discussion on passions concerning the Middle East, good health, and the fascination of cultures - I was offered a place to stay in Belfast, and also in Oslo. I don't know that I will, but I was complimented by the generosity and smiles of this family. We continued to chat and exchanged emails before the tour started some time later.

On the walking tour we skipped around Dublin seeing some parks, memorials, the Irish Castle, and Trinity College where the library holds the book of Kells (the only Gaelic version of the Bible.) The castle looked like any Plaza Mayor you've seen or heard of, minus people, minus restaurants and stores, minus everything but blank walls and an empty square. Its deserted. The Brits built and the Brits left, so thats what you get. I learned that, while in Ireland, I should have a distaste for the Brits. They enslaved the Irish and sent them to the Caribbean, just as Americans enslaved Africans. I knew this already, but the way that our tour-guide, Rory, spoke about it brought light to the fact that when Americans typically think of slavery they think of black Africans. Ever heard of slavery and thought of a bunch of poor famished Irishmen? I suppose racism is engraved in us in that way. Imagine though, you are put on a boat not knowing where you're going and then you and the famished guy next to you end up working cotton fields in between beatings for the rest of your life. Although the separation of Ireland with Northern Ireland was meant to bring peace between the Brits and the Irish, it caused conflict within Irish traditions, tearing apart families to the point of them killing one another over disagreeing about right and wrong. Politics. Religion as well. Rory told us about how most Irish are against Israel in the conflict between Israel and Palestine. Not because of politics, he assured us, but because of murder and immorality - because Irish see themselves and their history in the anguish and suffering of others. In my own opinion Israel is comitting a genocide - after having slimly escaped their own in history it makes it ironically sad to me. I suppose history shows us that every powerful nation at least attempts genocide before peace. Gaza Strip is the most densely populated region in the world. Drop a bomb anywhere and its the end for many, whoever the many may be. Oppression is very powerful - I'm sure it has something to do with Israel's desperation to get rid of Hamas no matter the consequences of their inhumanity towards the civilians. I'm sure it has something to do with why Ireland has such a drinking culture. Everyone's gotta cope. Even now, the Irish feel strongly about their culture and what history has to do with modern Ireland.

For instance, Gaelic is a dying language with less than 15% of Irish speaking it. The correct way to say the Irish language is "Gail-gah" not Gaelic. Gail-gah or Irish. Essentially its because of the British banning of Irish culture during their rule that the language is dying. Irish who can speak Irish are the super Irish Irish. :-) Back then community meetings weren't allowed, which forced Catholic mass to operate underground for fear of punishment. It sounded communist almost, or an effort to genocide. Well, it was an effort to genocide. Funny how the world forgives and forgets the mistakes the most powerful nations have made - Britain, America, Germany, Norway, France, Spain, Russia, China, etc. The Vietnamese and Koreans have forgiven us and are kind people to us... But take the money from Europeans and start hostile takeovers of downtroden Middle Eastern countries during an oppressed time and that sort of shit puts you on most of the worlds' shit list. Places that are safe for Europeans to travel, like Cairo, or Saudi Arabia, are not safe for Americans according to the US 

State Department. Anyone here will tell you, its a lot more dangerous to travel as an American than someone else. Thats why its so important that I am passionate about understanding a people/culture. It sets me apart from the typical traveling American who ignorantly goes on a vacation just to drink and dance and eat away from home - plowing through anyone and everything, not asking questions, having the mentality of "who cares I'll never see them again." Well, you may never see them again, but you just helped solidify their opinion of Americans.

Rory passionately spoke as an Irish purist to us, and (clearly) it ignited my passions. Aside from his degree in history, it was apparent that he chose to lead free walking tours as a job so that he could share his passion and the "real" history of Ireland. The grit of it - the humanity.

Much like New York City, Boston, Paris, Munich, or any other major city you can think of - the real majesty of the country is in suburbia, outside of the city. Also, all of the best major cities have a lake, river, or ocean in/next to it (Paris, Budapest, Athens, Dublin, Boston, Miami, NYC, London, Beijing, Ho Chi Minh - and so on.) So I chose to cut my plans short in Dublin so that I will have one more day and night to experience what I want in the city. Then I willl leave Dublin and spend an overnight in Galway to hike the Cliffs of Moher and walk along the Atlantic Bergen. It will set me back by making my trip to Belfast longer, but I will see more and pay the same.

Rory told us on the tour that in the West are many Irish purists who work hard to preserve the language and culture. Even Irish who study 12 years of Gaelic in primary school are usually not fluent. Not to mention, listing "Irish" as one of your main languages, will not help you get a job anywhere. So the Irish westerners try to keep it up, to keep Gaelic from becoming a dead language. Just like any other culture, Rory said that people in the west tend to respect you more if you at least try to say some things in Gaelic. He taught us some phrases. All I remember is that "Slante" means cheers. I remember it because I heard it a lot at the bars.

I asked Rory if the cliche idea of Irishmen getting together, getting drunk, and singing Irish folk music was far from the truth. He told me to give him some beers and he would show me how true it is. Hah!

Foreshadowing of the night to follow - when I was walking to the pub later in the evening I saw a man in front of me peeing on the sidewalk. I have seen this a lot all over Europe. Except for this man wasn't pointing his peewee at the wall, he was aiming for the street and leaning against the wall. I thought, hey! You're doin it wrong! As he zipped his pants a woman walked past paying no mind and he said to her "oh fuck off!" which drew her attention. I liked her response when she said, "me fuck off? You fuck off!" And she kept on walking. I laughed to myself, lifted my skirt to my knees and took a large step over the stream and kept on going. That was my only negative experience of Irish people, even then I enjoyed it for a laugh.

Along the walking tour I became friendly with a lovely Sicilian woman. We talked about couchsurfing, and how she is going to meet her host after the tour. She invited me to a rock concert later in the evening as a couchsurfing event, to meet other hosts and surfers. I went.

An aside; couchsurfing (CS) is a website and community network of low budget travelers connecting and sharing their culture, language, and couch with others who want to do the same. Its a give and take, not immediately and not in any service, but overtime through community and gratitude. I will stay with you, and maybe we will be friends and maybe we wont, but when you have the time to travel and if you so happen to make it to my home town, I will do the same for you.

So now I'm at a pub for live music with these people who all met through the couchsurfing network. One thing I can say for certain, if you go to any Irish pub in the world, close your eyes and tell yourself you're in Ireland, and then open your eyes - believe it or not, you are in Ireland. Every Irish pub is the same, wooden panels, stools, the smell of beer everywhere, lots of beers on taps, samples of beers, green tapestries, and random framed whatevers all over the place with the occasional drinking slogan. Oh, and live music. In the group I met a few Italians, enjoyed speaking Spanish with a girl from outside of Madrid, there was a Nigerian man, and another man from San Diego. The band was American and played classic rock music - so I paid no mind to anyone else and did my hip-shaking foot stomping thing. Soon enough others were joining. It was a two piece sitdown band, like I had never heard before. One strumming all of the rock solos perfectly, and the other banging his head and singing better than any bar band I had ever witnessed. I felt right at home. The singer announced to the bar that he wanted the bartenders to bring him a Guinness. He got himself into a mess of trouble with that, because he was such a good singer that everyone in the bar was buying him Guinness. He had a stool of 4 pints sitting in front of him when he told everyone to fuck off with the Guinness. Literally, "fuck off with the Guinness already. Give me another and I'll fuckin kick you out. I'm serious" He drank two, gave another away to a handicapped man in a wheelchair, and then announced he was drunk. Fair enough, this was his second gig of the night, and first solo gig of the night. I know because we followed him barhopping from the two-piece band to the solo gig because he was amazing, and our group organizer knew him. After he told everyone he was drunk, the crowd roared with excitement. He then sang an Irish drinking song or two in between the Eagles and Thin Lizzy. An Irish song can be created, basically, by getting really drunk and depressed and singing your blues while clapping along. If you can mumble loudly with a drunken drawl, then you can get by during most drinking song choruses - da da die dah die dah die, la la lie, la la lie. Drinking is not my thing, but Irish pubs certainly are.

There is a music festival tonight in Merrion park next to Trinity college. I was invited again by the sweet Sicilian woman. I was also invited to pub crawl with a group of young people who met two years ago studying abroad in Germany. I might do both, one, or none. I would like to hear more local folk music, its fantastic. 

All in all, if it weren't for kind foreigners, or the Irish being generally friendly, fun, and passionate people, I might not have liked Dublin at all. So I'm ready to move on to where I not only love the people, but the environment. I think that will be Galway, and a suburban hike or two outside of Belfast next week.

Slante!