9. Authenticity

RocamadourI am intrigued by McCannell’s concept of “front” and “back” spaces in terms of authenticity. I recently took a trip to the south of France over spring break, or to be more specific to the no-man’s land of fertile farmlands and river valleys between Orléan and Toulouse. Deep in the countryside, in tiny, quaint villages, a small number of people live and work off of the tireless flow of fleeting tourists. People rarely stay more than a few hours, at most a night, before floating on to the next town or region. I found a steep contrast between the vast “front” region of mystical, medieval villages untouched by time except for the vast array of tourist goods, and the miniscule “back” region tucked into living rooms safely hidden from the many prying eyes. I almost felt like I had stepped into a Disney version of a French town, a scene from Beauty and the Beast offered to roaming visitors, everything was meticulously conceived to herd tourists towards the right places, while performing a spectacle of authenticity and charm. Having traveled a decent amount, including several trips to various Disney parks, I was skeptical of the illusion, and curious about the lives of the few people who live in these idyllic places. Thanks to French skills and the fact that we didn’t have a car, and so were often walking from train stations to towns on tiny trails past private houses, empty woods, and trailer parks, I managed to catch a glimpse of what the “back” areas might be like. I had a long conversation with a waiter, born and raised within 10 miles of the restaurant, as the buses had left and we were the only customers. I watched a single woman return from a walk with her dog and enjoy a cup of tea and a book on her porch. I glimpsed into every nook and cranny, every back alley and open kitchen door, looking for a taste of genuine life. And I found it, or bits of it. My favorite town had a population of 120 in the summer, and only 24 in the winter. There aren’t any bakeries or grocery stores in town, so they have to drive at least 20 – 40 minutes to get basic necessities. But they are very proud of the natural beauty that surrounds them, proud that it is worth coming to visit from every corner of the globe, even if they take it for granted on a daily basis. But most of all, I noticed the toll that the language barrier between the performers and the audience takes on the residents of these towns. Any time I spoke French they were so enthused to not have to try to speak English. I found that there was a steep contrast between the simple, measured life that people were trying to live and the bustling, hectic, English-speaking masses that invade the towns on a daily basis. The irony is, that each one of those tourists is looking for the “authentic” experience that their mere presence makes impossible. They want to experience the calm, beautiful life of the deep countryside, but their presence makes these small towns feel more like a commercial shopping mall.

Honestly, this reading was a bit confusing. Was he trying to portray the existence of “front and back” realities? What does that even mean? In a sense, I can grasp his efforts of authenticity for tourists. That there exists a level of authenticity of culture for tourists in settings where tourists usually go. He gave an example of a hotel lobby, which is a front setting. Where this front area might be an ideal place to stage a cultural experience. Whereas the back setting would be the kitchen or other places for workers where the core cultural authenticity could be found. I agree that tourists get what they want to get. Meaning, tourists are not going to get the most authentic experience because well, they are probably going to do things that are specifically for tourists. And ultimately, the activities for tourists are going to be managed by those who constantly deal with tourists and will know how to deal with them and act in a certain manner. So of course, tourists are not getting the most authentic cultural experience. But will tourists ever get the authentic treatment? Probably not. But isn’t that what traveling is about? Doing things that you can’t do anywhere else? And unless you’re going to be at the destination for a longer period, it’s highly unlikely that you will be treated like a local and also feel like a local. Today, after being here at Prague for over four months, I still don’t get treated like a local or probably know as much as the locals do. I certainly don’t look Czech so it’s pretty obvious that I won’t be treated like one. And it’s not like I have a job, or am able to speak the language proficient enough to understand the daily life and culture of Czechs.

To understand and experience the culture, it’s absolutely imperative to understand their language. I do not know any Czech. Except for a few useless words. Thus, anywhere I go, I have no clue what’s going on. So even if I was in the front or back area, I would not understand whether it was authentic or forged. I think if tourists truly desire to understand and be in an “authentic” cultural setting, they should probably learn the language and on top of doing tourists-like activities—also go on excursions alone without any help. This way, you’re not depending on any tourist help, but only on your knowledge and the help of locals.

Parque Las HerasIs there a back region to a city, and is it possible to find it in four months?

Reading Staged Authenticity, by Dean MacCannell, I found myself thinking a lot about these people we keep running into at different clubs and parties we tend to show up to, who I alluded to in my last post. We’ve stumbled upon a certain community within the nightlife. I described specific people because they are the ones we connected to, but really at each of these events, there have been a lot of overlapping people, overlapping authentic Argentines. As a fringe participant of a legitimate community of Argentine young people, have I stumbled upon an authentic experience? Honestly, this question is hard for me to answer because my friends and I tend to show up at these places when we hear about them, I am beginning to suspect, because they are similar to what we are used to in New York. I understand the concept of a back region in a restaurant. I understand that taking a tour of the hostess factory, looking down on the floor from a balcony and behind a glass window, is a fabricated experience that is meant to be authentic, or a stage five back region in MacCannell’s terms. But cities are experienced by everyone differently. I don’t know if the identity of tourist immediately places someone in the superficial, inauthentic space of the front region, or if being a resident automatically gives privilege to the back region, when we are talking about experiences of a city. We are all walking down the same street in the end.

This weekend denying any grasp of the Spanish language came in handy. Two friends and I spent most of the day in Parque Las Heras, several green rolling hills off the Avenida Las Heras, and a popular spot for a gourd of mate and people watching. The sun set before we left, and two young boys, probably about twelve years old, squatted down next to us. One asked if we had money; I assumed they were just asking for monedas, a common occurrence, and feigned incomprehension. He asked where we were from, and again we all continued to pretend not to understand. Two more young boys walked over from the street and squatted down on the other side of us. Then the boy who had been making conversation before said in Spanish, “give us all your money, you’re being robbed.” Again, I said I didn’t understand. Then he said, calmly, “We are going to kill you, give us your money.” I asked my friends if we should go and they agreed so we got up to leave and the boys just ran off. I don’t know if there was a better way to handle this situation, but I was thankful that they didn’t think we were ignoring them, just oblivious to what was happening. If you’re too young to shave, you’re too young to mug me. 

Auténtico?A woman asked me if I was Argentine while I was trying to buy a 5 peso sandwich. I made a scoffing noise, thinking that she was joking and responded, "claro que no! (of course not). She seemed taken aback, almost offended and asked me why I responded in that way. I answered her saying that I didn't look Argentine, so of course I wasn't Argentine. She waved at me jokingly dismissive and said that appearance means nothing. When going out with other study abroad students, we often begin pondering over whether the experiences that we’ve had in Argentina are authentic Argentine experiences. When this discussion comes up, I usually find myself thinking: “What does that mean? Who gets to decide what are authentic Argentine experiences? Why do we care? Being black in Argentina, can I really have an authentic experience here when constantly being bombarded with questions of my origin? I don’t have the option of spending my time here in Argentina as if I was Argentine because I am not. Furthermore, the life experiences of Argentines are so diverse, I’m sure that they wouldn’t agree amongst each other 100% what are authentic Argentine experiences. Authentic Argentine is much more than just the sexiness of tango or the deliciousness of empanadas or the richness of dulce de leche. What makes Cumbia any less authentic than Tango? Or Gaucho Gill less authentic than Maradonna? There was a time when Tango was considered too vulgar and was dismissed from Argentine society and the gauchos were killed for being considered barbarian. Maradonna, who doesn't look how Argentines are projected to, is a hero in the country. All of which one would consider a part of authentic Argentina.

I often find myself questioning whether my relationships with Argentines are authentic or not. As a black person in a mostly white country, I noticed that when most Argentines meet me they can’t move past the fact that I’m black or even the fact that I’m American. I don’t feel like they are treating me as they would another Argentine. I am still not sure whether this means that my relationships with those types of Argentines are authentic or not. However, for now I have decided that I will not torment myself too much over this question. I have preoccupied myself plenty with wondering if my experiences would be any similar or diferent that someone who speaks better spanish (castellano) than me, or has a fairer shade than I do, to the point where I didn't know how to express my experiences without interjecting something about race. It's something that I'm still battling with seeing how when walking through a bar that's deemed an "authentic" Argentine bar, everyone turns to you and all eyes are on you or you're shouted "Brasileña" and all you want to do is have a drink, relax and fit in. haha. I've come to accept that, authentic or not, these are my experiences, and I have some great stories to share.

"It is found that tourists try to enter back regions of the places they visit because these regions are associated with intimacy of relations and authenticity of experiences." (589)

It is in my understanding that the reason people embark on journeys to foreign lands and want the experience of travel is due to the fact that these individuals want to become better acquainted with a culture far from their own. Whether we travel within our own country or cross major bodies of water, it is a journey we take in search of something "exotic" from our everyday lives and is something that makes us eager to engage in such experiences. 

Oxford Street

At least, for my own personal reasons, an extended travel was a major factor in my decision to study abroad in London. Rather than the typical week long vacation, I was given the opportunity to spend four months in a country that I had never visited before. This was a chance to immerse myself in a culture that was similar and yet vastly different than my own; a chance to find the truth behind the city. The four month long opportunity to live and study overseas was a way for me to actively engage in a different culture; a different way of living. 

Since not every person has the same opportunity to take an extended period of time and completely immerse themselves in a different culture, it is common that entering the "back regions" of a community is overly appealing to a majority of tourists.

"The 'front' [region] is the meeting place of hosts and guests or customers and service persons, and the 'back' [region] is the place where members of the home team retire between performances to relax and to prepare...A back region, closed to audiences and outsiders, allows concealment...that might discredit the performance out front..." (590-91)

In this explanation, MacCannell believes that what happens on the surface, what is directed at "outsiders" visiting a community is in fact a purposeful illusion made to "mystify" the onlooker, while in the back, the real people are hidden. It is like a performance that is happening on stage, and yet, it is happening right before the visitors eyes. It is thought that the "back regions" are home to the true essence of a culture; the "back region" is where the truth of the city lives, not in the "performance" that is given to the tourists that are visiting. And so, visitors make it a priority to gain access to this privileged way of living.

After living in London for three months, I have yet to find the truth or authenticity behind this city. I originally thought that four months was the perfect amount of time to acquire an intimate relationship with London, but I was mistaken. Even living in New York for as long as I have I cannot say that I know the truth behind the city. I don't know how I thought London would be different. Although it has been the place I have called "home" for three months, I still feel like a tourist looking for the authentic London. 

“The touristic experience that comes out of the tourist setting is based on inauthenticity, and as such it is superficial when compared with careful study; it is morally inferior to mere experience. A mere experience may be mystified, but a touristic experience is always mystified…” (599)

In my opinion the act of studying abroad in itself is an attempt to circumvent the inauthenticity of travel by establishing a life which is somewhere in between permanence and transience. When debating whether or not I would spend the semester in Buenos Aires, there were two pivotal arguments in favor of studying abroad; the opportunity to learn Spanish, and the chance to truly experience another culture first hand.

After being in Buenos Aires for three months now, that preconceived notion that living here for a semester was the formula to having an authentic experience seems shallow and naive. Other than the fact that I have a place to “call home,” and have established a rather superficial routine in the city, I feel no different than a common tourist, in that I am constantly searching for that authentic experience. Perhaps it comes across in less obvious ways—but it is the same quest—whether I’m looking for the local parilla, café, bar, clothing store, or pass-time. I am constantly asking Portenos where they go to shop, what their favorite restaurants are, where they like to go out. And just when I think I’ve found a place which is “authentically” local, I will hear someone observe loudly in English, “oh isn’t this cute!” and my dreams of having found that “back region” are shot.

It’s this reason exactly that I’ve been so adamant about finding friends here in the city—friends whose lives are real unlike the one I’m living. MacCannell writes, “No one can participate in his own life, he can only participate in the lives of others.” (601) Without friends who have a permanent reality in Buenos Aires, going out to bars, concerts, clubs, festivals, can only be observed as an outsider. However, once you become an integral part of someone’s life, once they make you part of their social network, you become intertwined with their reality, and though the distinction as an outsider may not disappear, the lines are blurred enough for me.

ambar la fox (gay club BSAS)

I am still battling this authentic/tourist dichotomy everyday. Sometimes I’ll feel like i’ve done it, like I’ve connected with people here deeply enough that when we’re together our experiences are authentic, and that in sharing those moments I’m living like the portenos. But that feeling is completely unsustainable and the next minute I might think that I spend all my time in an American bubble, with only NYU students, eating in fancy restaurants and vacationing in places that Argentines would never go.

It seems that connecting with Argentine people has been the only anecdote to assuage my feelings of depression at not being able to penetrate that authentic “back region.” After a night of drinking and chatting about life in a friends departamento, followed by an early morning of euphoric dancing in some boliche (that I’ve never heard of), it’s difficult to deny that what I’m experiencing is true. It seems odd to me in fact that these sort of personal relationships weren’t even mentioned in Macannell’s essay, since they seem to be the only bridge between the two parallel universes.

Globalization

Globalization was once touted as the forefront of the future of world business and culture. The effects were to be widespread, promising a cultural and intellectual exchange that would enhance international relations and contribute to the dissemination of information, all while clearing up cultural misconceptions. In theory, this model sounds like the ideal of how the world should function and communicate, however what idealists failed to recognize were the implications of said movement. As our world becomes more unified, there is less room for individualism and differentiation. Those with substantial differences in culture from that of the ideal risk alienation if change doesn’t occur, causing a widespread epidemic of uniformity.

Drastic? Yes. However, the loss of culture evident not only in the aforementioned countries, but on a global scale, is reason enough for such alarm. As the world’s economic crisis gets further and further widespread, countries are feeling the pressure to conform to not only the economic regulations of the Western world, but at that cost? Those who do not speak English, or only speak one language are finding it increasingly difficult to find work. Immigrants who bring their children to places such as the United States soon find their children growing up as Americans, with little regard for their cultural history. Noticeable aftershocks of globalization became apparent during my Spring Break trip to Italy and Spain.

The first encounter that turned my attention to the impact of globalization was on my way to Rome, Italy from Florence during my spring break holiday. I sat myself down onto the train, preparing myself for a relaxing ride when somewhere to my right, the faint chatter of American English caught the attention of my all-too-willing ear. Feeling insatiably intrigued, I turned my head in an owl-like manner to overhear scuffling between a group of four partnered-up teenagers.

“No you idiot! It’s like this!”, said one of the boys, stealing the white Apple Macbook away from the other, as the two girls, clearly their significant others accompanying them, rolled their eyes. After looking at their minor bickering for a few minutes, I turned myself towards them and asked, “Where in the States are you from?” They looked at one another puzzled, and then one of the girls said, “We’re from Italy. I’ve never been to the United States and have barely even left Italy.” Feeling the utterly shocked expression on my face, I turned myself back into my seat, confused. Were they joking? But one look at their noticeably Mediterranean features, and I knew I had heard the truth.

As I sat befuddled by the occurrence, I slowly started noticing the vast amount of English spoken around me on the train by those who were clearly Italian, and it left puzzled as to why a country with such history and culture seemed suddenly so gentrified. Was it a means of survival in this ever-changing economic landscape? Or had the world really gotten as “flat” as everyone had said it would? Whatever the case, I was not disappointed with the answers I uncovered during my short stint in Western Europe.

I was determined to get an “authentic” experience, as pretentious and subjective as that may sound, so I decided that rather than stay at a hostel with fellow travelers, I would use the website couchsurfing.com to meet and stay with locals instead. Upon my arrival to Madrid, Spain, I stayed with a local fellow college junior named Jorge Alcalde, whom within a day or two of spending time showing me around the Madrid “scene”, vented his frustration with the people in his school’s undergraduate program.

“We have a group of students that are doing a student exchange program”, he told me in clearly frustrated Spanish. “Rather than trying to learn the Spanish language, or experience any sort of cultural immersion here, the girls, who are both from European countries, insist on only speaking in English to everyone.” Though this clearly upset Jorge, he wasn’t done just yet. “But the worst part,” he added, “is that everyone is totally fine with it and now everyone in the class, including the professor are only speaking in English.” He then proceeded to shout to the sky, “When did this become an English class? We’re in SPAIN!”

We laughed for quite some time, but after a tapas bar crawl later that night in the heart of “non-touristy Madrid”, I was assured, the level of English being spoken by fellow Spaniards was astounding. Though I used my ethnic ambiguity to my advantage, everyone spoke to me in Spanish while speaking to one another in a Spanglish that reminded me of my hometown of Miami, Florida. English menus were readily available everywhere, and I saw two friends, one clearly English, and the other a Spaniard, deep into conversation. Was the world really becoming as integrated as everyone said it was going to?

Upon arriving to Milan, Italy, I found nothing but the same kind of gentrified culture, though understandably moreso, as Milan is Italy’s industrial capital. When asking how to get anywhere, I had no issues whatsoever finding someone who spoke English. I admittedly got rather excited when I discovered my first non-English speaking Italian, which lead to a spontaneous awkward hug that baffled me moreso than it did him. Well, when in Italy, do as the Milanese do, right?

Moving on, upon arrival to my couchsuring host’s apartment, Maurizio made me lunch and during the course of our meal, I decided to ask him about why everyone I had met in Italy seemed to not have the same “Italian-ness” I had expected. He then mocked me a bit at first saying, “You know, these are real people who aren’t here just to entertain you like something out of a movie?”. “Touche Mr. Di Luccia”, I said back to him, feeling rather stupid for asking my question at that moment. He then laughed a bit, and then told me rather seriously, “Italians are at this moment not proud of being Italian. The reason they seem so gentrified is because they are trying to identify with something else other than Italian. They really admire the Americans for everything they’ve done for Italy, and that’s why you guys are almost idolized here.” I shook my head in understanding as he noted the abundance of Obama-related publications available in any given area.

Maurizio then went further to say that given the state of Italian politics, especially in regard to Silvio Berlusconi, who Maurizio said Italians view as an “embarrassment to the Italian people.” Berlusconi is the Italian Prime Minister who’s made such notable inappropriate comments about President Obama such as calling him “young, handsome, and tan”, though he is clearly African American, and also calling himself “paler” than the U.S. President. Maurizio then tells me about Berlusconi’s control of the media, involvement in a right-to-die case a la Terri Schiavo, and his conflict of interests in regard to the Italian People.

With a slightly better understanding of the current political state of Italy, I couldn’t help but feel how sad it was that I had no in-depth knowledge of the state of global affairs, more than what I read on CNN and the New York Times. Why was it that everyone I met from other places in the world knew so much more about the United States than I knew of their country? Even the lady selling chestnuts on the side street in Milan spoke 6 languages. Was I really that ego-centric of an American to think that the rest of the world was trying to conform to the standards of the world superpower? But, in reality, what does the United States need to conform to? Are we not the major proponents of this so-called “globalization”, though we feel no true sense of aftershock? Even in the global financial crisis, were we not the stem of the issue?

Walking through the security gates at Milan’s Malpensa Airport en route to Prague, one of the security officers grabs my passport for verification, and a huge grin sweeps his face. “He’s American!”, he shouts. Was this going to be a lengthy session of patronization? Instead, I was hailed as a modern-day hero, and asked many questions about life back in the U.S. and what I thought of Obama, though they made no effort to disguise their happiness. Walking to the gate, I realized that though I didn’t get a concrete answer to my criticism of globalization, I gained a better understanding of the world at large, and maybe that there is hope for Americans in the the context of the world sphere after all. I realized that just because we are at the helm of the globalization movement, it doesn’t mean that we can continue to stay ignorant of the world around us.

Tourist filled Piazza de RepublicaFlorence holds it own issues about authenticity. Florence is a city of tourists, a city catered towards, and inhabited mostly by recent immigrants and students. Florence is the biggest study abroad city in the world, and it is much easier to find another American student in Florence then an actual Italian citizen. It took me a few weeks to realize how few Italian people live inside the city. My assumption was that all of the Italian speaking residents around me were in fact, Italian. I was very wrong. Florence is filled with Serbian, Albanian, Greek and Macedonian immigrants. Most will come to Florence to go to school or to work in tourist industries, and will travel back and forth to home or will only stay for a few years and will return home permanently. I have found that most Italian people live in the suburbs of Florence. Many of these suburbs are very close, with just a short bus ride separating them and the city. The problem is that they will come into the city for work, and then return to the suburbs in the evening, giving us little chance to meet. This also means that it is very difficult to pick out "authentic" things in Florence. Is the thin pizza found at the trattoria down the street authentic, or the doughy pizza people wait in line for across the Arno? When so much of a city is ran by and catered to foreigners, it is easy for the lines of authenticity to get blurred. In this way their is a "strained truthfulness" in many aspects of the florentine lifestyle. I have also found that at some point you have to stop obsessing about authenticity. I have come to Florence to experience what it has to give, that includes the tourist spots of interest, the small Osterias off the beat and track, and making friends with a few Serbians who speak worse Italian then I do.

Tourists at Charles Bridge

Tourism hardly allows a glimpse into local life. There are those who travel with the intent to understand a country, a culture, and a group of people better. While the very act of being in that place may increase their knowledge, it is only to a certain degree. As a visitor, you are only exposed to a limited portion of the place. With tourist season hitting Prague in full force, clumps of sightseers clutter the cobblestone roads leading to the historic Old Town Square, the center of the storm where NYU happens to be conveniently located. Having to navigate through the groups while precariously juggling a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, the image of Prague as an exploding hub of tourism has never been more emphasized than on my daily dashes to class.

And the question is, how much of Prague do you really see while on these group excursions? So much of it centers on visiting a handful of sites – Prague Castle, the Astronomical Clock, and so forth. It is a list recycled season after season, because these are the famous sites one absolutely must visit while in Prague. And for good reason – these sites are interesting and carry historical weight. But then there are museums. They are fascinating, of course, but by then you are drowning in a sea of history which has been carefully packaged for the passing visitor. To have this be the crux of most trips means exposing yourself to very little. Other than taking a few pictures at these historic monuments, what more of the city do you know?

Even as a study abroad student, it is hard to crack the local lifestyle. And really, how hard am I trying to? At the back of my mind, I know that my time here is temporary and there is no pressure to really adapt to everyday life. Conversational English and simple Czech phrases like “dobry den” and “dekuju” suffice in most of the places I go. There is really not much of an urgent need to learn more than that because what I’m doing here – studying, eating, going out – doesn’t require much more than that. In so many ways, study abroad is like an extended session of tourism. You understand more about a place than you otherwise would, but at the end of the day, you still are but a mere observer, watching everything through a very narrow lens.  

Shanghai From a Tourist's PerspectiveThere exists a fine line between tourism and traveling. Tourism is simply traveling for recreational purposes, it is widely considered a leisure activity and should be thought of as such. On the other hand, traveling is the wider immersion of oneself into a foreign culture. MacCannell states that tourists seek authenticity in their experiences. I would have to disagree with this statement. Tourists may ultimately think they are seeking authentic experiences but they are approaching situations from an outsider's perspective.

NYU students in Shanghai are naively looking to become a local Chinese. These students actively seek out, what they think are genuine Shanghainese experiences, but no matter what we do we will never be able to have an authentic experience. We are outsiders living in a foreign place. We can think that speaking in Chinese to locals, eating with locals, and socializing with locals constitutes being Chinese but that simply isn't the case. Now I'm not saying that we shouldn't socialize with locals and try and make this experience as genuine as possible, but it will never be a true authentic experience. Ever. I just think we should all try to immerse ourselves in the culture, but to take things with a grain of salt.

In the short number of weeks we have been in Shanghai, two students on separate occasions, tried to have authentic experiences. Her first week here, a girl in the program eagerly agreed to a tea tasting with a seemingly nice local couple looking to practice their English. This is the start of a famous scam that preys on unsuspecting tourists looking to have a traditional tea ceremony with locals. For those of you that are unaware, you can visit www.teascam.com. This overzealous girl was eager to have an authentic experience but she fell victim to this practiced scam. I suppose it could have happened to anyone of us. But, no matter how active you are in immersing yourself with the local culture, remember this: you are an outsider and will never truly be a local. Recently a boy in our program was walking along the Bund in Shanghai when four “college art students” approached him to come to their art exhibit. A quick google search of “Beijing art scam” turns up hundreds of links describing the scam.

All I am saying is, enjoy your experiences but take everything with a grain of salt. As much as you want to have the most authentic experience possible, you never truly will. You aren't a local, you're a tourist for 4 months.