the Currency of Travel

I spent last week exploring Panama--from Panama City and the canal on the west coast to the eastern archipelago of San Blas. Beautiful, remote and sometimes very third world, I was amazed at the number of young European and North American backpackers I met.

Panama is fast-becoming the next hot stop on the Gringo Trail, yet I was amazed at the number of times I was asked, "How long are you traveling?" As if my week long vacation was something to be looked down upon, a lesser form of wanderlust.

What is the difference between vacation and travel? Semantically speaking, travel indicates a journey whereas vacation is a respite, yet in my mind the two are far from mutually exclusive. Isn't backpacking around South America nothing more than an extended respite from "real life"? No, it would seem not so. Fellow backpackers measured my coolness and authenticity based on the length of my travel. A week is merely a drop in the bucket (regardless of any past travel experiences; this is not cumulative over time).

It seems that in reaching the height of affluence and influence, the western world has spawned a generation of itinerant young travelers--the "backpacker generation," traveling the world on a budget with little more than their copy of Lonely Planet and a tentative plan. What amazed me was the ignorance with which these educated youths travel--with very little understanding of local cultures and an extremely basic grasp of language, they pack from hostel to hostel, befriending others like themselves in a never-ending party of one-up-manship and cervezas nacionales.

When not boasting of sites seen, the most common lament is an incessant whine over the "Westernization" (or more offensively, "Americanization") of post-colonial Latin America. While racking up passport stamps, backpackers are repeatedly offended by the presence of gluttonous consumption in the face of rural poverty. It is the epitome of irony, to arrive in a foreign land only to spend your time there partying with other people of similar backgrounds, ignoring local culture while complaining of the lack of it.

Granted this is an overarching generalization which is not to say that there are many backpackers who travel with reverence. However, of all the people I met in Panama not a single person could describe to me the food or the local way of life. Rather than exploring off the beaten path these travelers gauge the value of their experiences by time spent partying in hostels, drinking local rum (ok I’ll give them that—they are more than willing to sample local spirits and illicit substances).

What do they come home with, other than a serious tan, a few indigenous tschoschkes, and about 500 new facebook friends? The answer is unclear. A Canadian kid I met on a deserted Caribbean island told me he had been living in Nicaragua for four months working as a dive instructor. He then asked me how to say "cup" in Spanish, admitting that although living in Central America he could barely speak a word of the language. With an astounding narrowmindedness toward food and culture (another fellow island guest refused to eat fish freshly caught from the sea, preferring instead chicken that the chef had boated in from the nearby mainland).

It seems grossly hypocritical to bellyache about globalization and westernization when it is precisely these attitudes that young travelers are bringing to the locations they visit. It is not just those who travel that promote this sort of cultural ignorance--backpacker movies have long depicted youths ready to live it up in foreign lands, only to stumble ignorantly into tragedy. (See this list of best backpacking movies)

Although backpacking has long been viewed as the most "authentic" means of travel, the consumptive way of life embodied by the wandering traveler seems to completely undermine any genuine cultural experience. Which begs the question: as globalization continues to bring more and more developing countries under the wing of global capitalism, is there such a thing as an authentic travel experience? It cannot be enough to say you've seen Machu Picchu or to flip through your passport stamps with abandon. I believe to really experience a place you have to step outside your comfort zone--away from the hostels, the bars, the famous beaches--to see the other side of life. The daily goings on of the laborer, what he eats, where he drinks and sleeps. How women are treated, how food is prepared, who works, who doesn't, who cooks what, etc.

Until popular culture ceases to glorify the wandering youthful indulgence typified in novels and film (see "The Gringo Trail" or "The Beach") it may be too much to ask for travelers to seek the underlying truths of a place. However, I must say, I think I learned more about people (from both the third and first worlds) on my week-long vacation than any of the people I met spending months on end hopping from one gringo bar to the next.