Introduction

If you search “why do people travel?”, you’ll be inundated with many lofty ideals in the returns: to learn, to experience, to challenge oneself, to get a new perspective, to see the world through new eyes, to gain appreciation for what you have, to unplug. Such ideals sound exciting and gallant, but how often do people actually return from their travels having experienced a life-changing event?

I have no wish to dive down the long-debated “tourist vs traveler” rabbit hole. Doing another internet search for that phrase unleashes a bevy of articles and blog posts, usually with the author’s rigid (and righteous) definitions of each. I’m sure you’re already familiar with the arguments that generally go along the line of “a tourist shows up with their fanny pack and guidebook, ready to hit as many tourist attractions as they can while eating at McDonald’s, whereas a traveler immerses themselves in the local culture and is only interested in the ‘hidden, off-the-beaten path’ experiences that others often overlook.”

I’m not sure that trying to differentiate between the two is all that useful. I would argue that few people fit neatly within either distinction. For instance, the idealistic vision of a traveler also often takes the form of someone who spends weeks, if not months, in a location as part of their immersion. Very few people have the capacity to juggle career and family with a nomadic lifestyle, especially if they’re an American with a paltry 10 or 15 vacation days a year.

Rather than trying to label ourselves as a certain traveler type, I think it’s more realistic to examine our approach to travel and tourism, both as individuals who travel and as communities who welcome visitors. How can we as travelers seek out experiences that are more enriching, more meaningful, than the glossy facades that are often presented to us? Local tourism councils obviously have a vested interest in putting their best face forward and driving us toward picture-perfect settings, impressive museums, and modern shopping and dining. But presenting this gleaming image often comes at the cost of local communities and cultures. Indeed, entire communities might be uprooted to create tourist infrastructure, and local history is often white washed in order to obscure racist or other unsavory episodes.

But the stories of marginalized people are out there, ready to be discovered by those who seek to view their travels through the lens of social justice. It is the hope of this blog to help travelers discover those experiences that raise awareness about people, issues, and cultures that are often overlooked. I hope to encourage people to examine the role of tourism in cultural education, preservation, and healing. Look beyond what is presented to you at the surface level to seek experiences that lead to more fulfilling journeys.

Fishing boats in Crete, Greece