"I have a full-page rant about “traveling like a local” that might deserve its own post someday,"
Please do.
"here’s the short version: being a tourist means you are merely passing through a place, and no amount of riding public transportation, hanging out in dives, or eating street food will allow you to experience it like locals do."
Reminds me of this quote and comment I wrote awhile back:
---
"In Coréens, Chris Marker observes that there are different ways of travelling: 'the Barnabooth way, the Genghis Khan way, and the Plume way.' In other words, those of the gentleman travellers, the conquerer and the one who humbly accepts the random upheavals of the journey. Marker writes that his own preferred method is to submit, Plume-like, to the haphazard events that befall him: 'to accept in their disorder the rhythms, waves, shocks, all the buffers of memory, its meteors and dragnets.' This approach is reflected in the aleatory character of Marker's travelogues, which flit spontaneously from one fact or observation to another, without attempting an ordinary narrative account of the place being visited. The intensely personal quality of Marker's response to other countries brings out the subjective, imaginative dimensions of travel, captured in the Romantic poets Gérard de Nerval's famous maxim that the purpose to travel is 'to verify one's dreams.'"
--Catherine Lupton, Chris Marker: Memories of the Future, p.43-44.
Reader's note: At nearly the same time Thomas Pynchon writes about the fourth way, now world dominant, known as Baedecker-land: the commercial and consumer class world of tourists and expats that has increasingly become a lifestyle magazine industry. These differ from the Barnabooths because the Barnabooths became what The Economist dubbed "Davos Man," the globe trotting transnationals that effectively founded a borderless meta-nation of their own, for which geography is roughly beside the point. They differ from Ghengis Khan because they swapped resource extraction with wage service industry. It's not enough to call them post-modern Khans because real Khans still exist.
Most Baedecker-land travellers think they're Plume travellers, but their strange gravitational attraction to beaches and scheduled, blocked out festivals betrays them.
---
Lastly, I feel you on expat friendships. The two years I lived in Dubai, I was instant friends with a wide variety of people who wouldn't have even bothered acknowledging me or me them in a public space in New Mexico or New York, being otherwise just completely irrelevant to each other. But in Baedecker land, Anglophone network means survival and resources.
“Most Baedecker-land travellers think they're Plume travellers, but their strange gravitational attraction to beaches and scheduled, blocked out festivals betrays them.”
Hah. So true. This is very much in line with my point--there is absolutely nothing wrong with traveling for relaxation and pleasure, as long as you recognize it for what it is and have a little self-awareness. Don’t equate your beach- and festival-going experience with that of locals’, even if you condescend to stop into “local spots” for a thrill.
And yes, expat friendships are so important. I wish I had more Egyptian friends, honestly, but the reality is in Egypt (and most of the Arab world, I suspect) you MUST have a network to get by--all business is done through personal connections--and the expat network was the most accessible to me upon arrival. That turned out to be a blessing by introducing me to people I never expected to meet.
Fun to see how far you've come and how - as always - observant and self aware you are. I wonder if being an expat lends itself to slowing down in a way your other "at home" cities don't allow.
This is really thought-provoking. I do think that being an expat lets you slow down, because when everything is unfamiliar, you notice little things that you wouldn't in your own country. I sometimes find myself fixating on little details that you would never see in the U.S.--for example, a lot of curbs here are painted in a black-and-white striped pattern, and all the traditional cafés have the same bentwood-style chairs that have burned imprints on the seat with the name of the café. If I were at home, I would never even think about curbs or the seats of chairs. Being in a totally different environment forces you to "stop and smell the roses," as cliché as it is!
Oh boy i love little details like that - those are the bits of life that i feel like AI couldn't replace, or that get left out of commercials and art. Very cool, thank you.
Such a great post, Sam! Always fascinating to read about other cultures. I learned so much - until I read your words all I knew about Egypt was what I've gleaned from the Peter Ustinov film 'Death on the Nile', and the English translation of 'Astérix et Cléopâtre'!
Thank you, Rebecca! I actually just read Death on the Nile--what a great book. (I did a post a little while back about staying at the hotel where Agatha Christie wrote it!) I saw the new version of the film, and have been meaning to track down the 1978 version...that's now on the to-do list for this weekend!
I need to read this to my son (age 5) who one day recently has been obsessed with wanting to visit Egypt. I think it's completely random (or not!) that I have my son's bucket list item as Egypt and I have a connection like you living in Egypt!
So cool that your son wants to visit Egypt! I honestly can't think of many other countries with such a huge quantity and diversity of things to see. The ancient Egypt stuff is genuinely astonishing, but there's also wonderful beaches, Roman history in Alexandria, so much Islamic and Christian history, deserts and oases...If he has any questions about Egypt or wants more pictures, let me know. :)
Interesting, as always. Looking forward to your post on Jolene's Substack, Sam.
:) Thank you, Vicki! I had so much fun writing the post for Jolene, can't wait for you to see it!
"I have a full-page rant about “traveling like a local” that might deserve its own post someday,"
Please do.
"here’s the short version: being a tourist means you are merely passing through a place, and no amount of riding public transportation, hanging out in dives, or eating street food will allow you to experience it like locals do."
Reminds me of this quote and comment I wrote awhile back:
---
"In Coréens, Chris Marker observes that there are different ways of travelling: 'the Barnabooth way, the Genghis Khan way, and the Plume way.' In other words, those of the gentleman travellers, the conquerer and the one who humbly accepts the random upheavals of the journey. Marker writes that his own preferred method is to submit, Plume-like, to the haphazard events that befall him: 'to accept in their disorder the rhythms, waves, shocks, all the buffers of memory, its meteors and dragnets.' This approach is reflected in the aleatory character of Marker's travelogues, which flit spontaneously from one fact or observation to another, without attempting an ordinary narrative account of the place being visited. The intensely personal quality of Marker's response to other countries brings out the subjective, imaginative dimensions of travel, captured in the Romantic poets Gérard de Nerval's famous maxim that the purpose to travel is 'to verify one's dreams.'"
--Catherine Lupton, Chris Marker: Memories of the Future, p.43-44.
Reader's note: At nearly the same time Thomas Pynchon writes about the fourth way, now world dominant, known as Baedecker-land: the commercial and consumer class world of tourists and expats that has increasingly become a lifestyle magazine industry. These differ from the Barnabooths because the Barnabooths became what The Economist dubbed "Davos Man," the globe trotting transnationals that effectively founded a borderless meta-nation of their own, for which geography is roughly beside the point. They differ from Ghengis Khan because they swapped resource extraction with wage service industry. It's not enough to call them post-modern Khans because real Khans still exist.
Most Baedecker-land travellers think they're Plume travellers, but their strange gravitational attraction to beaches and scheduled, blocked out festivals betrays them.
---
Lastly, I feel you on expat friendships. The two years I lived in Dubai, I was instant friends with a wide variety of people who wouldn't have even bothered acknowledging me or me them in a public space in New Mexico or New York, being otherwise just completely irrelevant to each other. But in Baedecker land, Anglophone network means survival and resources.
“Most Baedecker-land travellers think they're Plume travellers, but their strange gravitational attraction to beaches and scheduled, blocked out festivals betrays them.”
Hah. So true. This is very much in line with my point--there is absolutely nothing wrong with traveling for relaxation and pleasure, as long as you recognize it for what it is and have a little self-awareness. Don’t equate your beach- and festival-going experience with that of locals’, even if you condescend to stop into “local spots” for a thrill.
And yes, expat friendships are so important. I wish I had more Egyptian friends, honestly, but the reality is in Egypt (and most of the Arab world, I suspect) you MUST have a network to get by--all business is done through personal connections--and the expat network was the most accessible to me upon arrival. That turned out to be a blessing by introducing me to people I never expected to meet.
So excited to post your gorgeous piece on Friday, Sam! ✨ Loved this post, wow, a year!
And thank you, Sam, for your kind words. As you know, you are one of my fave Substack’s!
I’m so thankful for the Substack universe for bringing us together 🤗
Fun to see how far you've come and how - as always - observant and self aware you are. I wonder if being an expat lends itself to slowing down in a way your other "at home" cities don't allow.
This is really thought-provoking. I do think that being an expat lets you slow down, because when everything is unfamiliar, you notice little things that you wouldn't in your own country. I sometimes find myself fixating on little details that you would never see in the U.S.--for example, a lot of curbs here are painted in a black-and-white striped pattern, and all the traditional cafés have the same bentwood-style chairs that have burned imprints on the seat with the name of the café. If I were at home, I would never even think about curbs or the seats of chairs. Being in a totally different environment forces you to "stop and smell the roses," as cliché as it is!
Oh boy i love little details like that - those are the bits of life that i feel like AI couldn't replace, or that get left out of commercials and art. Very cool, thank you.
Such a great post, Sam! Always fascinating to read about other cultures. I learned so much - until I read your words all I knew about Egypt was what I've gleaned from the Peter Ustinov film 'Death on the Nile', and the English translation of 'Astérix et Cléopâtre'!
Thank you, Rebecca! I actually just read Death on the Nile--what a great book. (I did a post a little while back about staying at the hotel where Agatha Christie wrote it!) I saw the new version of the film, and have been meaning to track down the 1978 version...that's now on the to-do list for this weekend!
I need to read this to my son (age 5) who one day recently has been obsessed with wanting to visit Egypt. I think it's completely random (or not!) that I have my son's bucket list item as Egypt and I have a connection like you living in Egypt!
So cool that your son wants to visit Egypt! I honestly can't think of many other countries with such a huge quantity and diversity of things to see. The ancient Egypt stuff is genuinely astonishing, but there's also wonderful beaches, Roman history in Alexandria, so much Islamic and Christian history, deserts and oases...If he has any questions about Egypt or wants more pictures, let me know. :)