Tourists in Town
by Rebecca Falkoff
Summary
| Expatriates have varied reactions to tourists. |
| Tourists can give you perspective on your experiences abroad. |
In a Monster Work Abroad poll, we asked, "When living abroad, how do you react to tourists from your country?" With summer here, expatriates living in metropolitan areas frequented by tourists may face that question daily.
In 1999, 19.5 million US travelers vacationed outside the country. In the same year, July's US air passengers to Europe were double what they were in January. This summertime, deluge engulfs US expatriates, who number approximately 3.8 million, according to the Bureau of US Consular Affairs' Web site.
The most popular response, selected by 41 percent of respondents was, "Depends on the situation, the tourists and my mood." How expatriates interact with tourists varies enormously with the circumstances. But a few reactions recur as international sojourners encounter their compatriots.
Many reactions are negative. Trailing close behind ambivalence in the poll responses was annoyance; 37 percent of respondents selected, "I am often embarrassed or annoyed by them."
US citizens occasionally have a particularly bad reputation in some countries, and many expatriates work to distinguish themselves from their nationality's stereotypes. Also, expatriates often loathe being mistaken for tourists and fear their efforts to learn about the culture and adapt their lifestyles will be met with condescension.
One Monster Work Abroad member recounts, "I have spent the last year traveling throughout Asia and have mastered the use of chop sticks. Unfortunately, not every American has. As a result, when having a meal with any new people, they insist on calling the server over to request a fork for me. One time, I offended my host by continuing to use my chopsticks after the fork was delivered."
But even for those who cannot use chopsticks, it would be a blunder to always use their nationality as an excuse. Another Monster Work Abroad member writes,
"When I lived in Europe for two years, I developed the habit of explaining any of my bad behaviors as the fact it was natural for me because I was only an American. I learned midway that this was an obnoxious and tiresome thing for people to hear. Each individual is responsible for his or her own behavior, no matter where they come from."
The Other 20 Percent
There are drawbacks to living in a popular tourist destination, but some react positively to their compatriots. You may find yourself a spokesperson for your country, explaining seemingly outrageous elements of its politics and culture to incredulous locals -- brunches of bacon, eggs, toast and home fries, and the Electoral College come to mind. You may be struck by the absurdity of being called upon to sum up a country so diverse and vast, and it can be nice to hear another voice to quiet the echo of your own perspective.
In addition, most people living immersed in another language have experienced the phenomenon where someone asks you a question about your native language, and you need to stop and think. Your ready response turns out to be a faux ami, or not a true translation. Hearing your language can be a refreshing antidote.
Encountering tourists may also bring home how much you have changed while abroad. Eavesdropping on travelers' conversations about their experiences, you might remember your initial impressions. Though one could argue it is not eavesdropping when the eavesdropped speak five times louder than anyone else in the vicinity.
Loud conversing aside, tourists are often commendable in their dedication to learning a city's history, a pursuit you may have abandoned. In Rome, I lived at Porta Maggiore, a gate where an ancient aqueduct traversed the city wall. Today, the point of convergence for several old trams and a lot of honking cars and scooters, Porta Maggiore is, at best, unglamorous. But sometimes, I heard tourists marvel at the ruins, and their awe reminded me of the city's greatness.
"Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection," wrote Lawrence Durrell in Bitter Lemons. We can extend this statement to include the travel of others, which can trigger the most rewarding forms of introspection in those expatriates who come in contact with them.
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